Free So Feral! by J A Mawter

Reynolds.
    ‘Because I have leopard-print lingerie and tiger-print lingerie,’ says Cordelia, ‘but I don’t have fox!’ Miss Reynolds looks at me. ‘And because it was my dare for the Pollen Tree Cup.’
    I take a step towards Miss Reynolds. ‘It’s a challenge we’re having,’ I explain, ‘to win a cup.’
    Lowie pulls it out of his pocket and sheepishly holds it up.
    ‘The Pollen Tree Cup,’ we all say.
    Cordelia looks at me and says, ‘Which I win!’
    Slowly Miss Reynolds smiles. What happens next is the best. ‘I misjudged you, Toby. I’m sorry.’ And with that she leans over and gives me a hug.
    I give her a kiss in return.
    Not a full throttle tonguey job. Just a little peck on the cheek.
    Compared to Jonnie her breath doesn’t smell at all.
    I feel great. I have won my challenge!

Chapter One
    ‘Today ve draw still life!’ announced Miss Alperstein, Arthur’s teacher, handing white sheets of paper around the class. ‘To start vis, ve vill not use a model. Ve vill use our … imaginations!’
    Great! thought Arthur, who was eager to begin.
    ‘I vant you to shut your eyes. I vill describe ze object. See if you can vork out vot ve vill draw.’
    Arthur closed his eyes, wondering what it might
    be.
    ‘Ze sing you vill draw is round.’
    Arthur’s favourite things leapt to mind. Pizza, pancakes, biscuits.
    ‘It is round and firm.’
    Must be a biscuit, thought Arthur.
    ‘It is round and firm,’ repeated Miss Alperstein, ‘and it starts off v-e-e-ry small. It zen grows and grows.’
    Biscuits don’t grow!
    Arthur searched his mind for something that grew, something round and firm. Nothing came up. Just then, Arthur was distracted by Alison Grant’s sneezing. It wasn’t hard for Alison Grant to distract Arthur. With her long red hair and dimples, she was eminently distracting. Arthur particularly liked her skin. Unlike his, it was perfect. There was not a blemish on her.
    Miss Alperstein droned on. ‘Sometimes zey grow in pairs.’
    Arthur thought of Alison Grant. She had something that grew in pairs! He bolted upright in his chair. His breath grew shallow.
    ‘Zere is a bumpy bit on ze end.’
    Arthur gulped. Beads of sweat appeared on top of his nose. Surely this wasn’t the still life that Miss Alperstein had in mind? Arthur knew that all great artists did those sorts of drawings. He’d studied them. Dreamt about them.
    ‘Hold ze image.’
    Clap! Clap!
    ‘Vakey, vakey vile I show you vot it is.’
    Arthur’s eyes — and mouth — flew open in eager anticipation.
    He looked at Miss Alperstein. She was holding up a lemon!
    Arthur slumped in his seat, deflated. So much for him being the next Rubens!
    ‘You vill draw zis lemon …’ here Miss Alperstein’s voice dropped to a hushed whisper, ‘in all its splendour. I vant to see every curve.’ Her hand swathed through the air. ‘Every bump. So zat ven I touch your paper …’ an index finger stroked the paper on her desk, ‘it vill shock me to find it flat!’
    Arthur looked at Miss Alperstein. He looked at the smooth white paper spread before him thinking, Is she nuts?
    ‘I should be able to smell your lemon,’ Miss Alperstein went on, raising her head to the air and sniffing. ‘It should make my nostrils zing!’
    You mean sting, thought Arthur. In the seat next to him Carlo Gianetti began to draw.
    Arthur, too, picked up his pencil. It arced across the page, dipped, then arced again.
    Carlo glanced at Arthur’s drawing. Pulling a face he hissed, ‘Yours looks demented.’
    Arthur grinned. Through ventriloquist lips he muttered, ‘Patience, Carlo, patience.’
    Miss Alperstein interrupted again, her voice almost reverent. ‘Notice ze tiny little stalk, ze cruel jacket etches!’
    Jagged edges, Arthur automatically interpreted.
    Interpreting was easy for Arthur. And so it should be. He’d been with Miss Alperstein for nearly one whole year now. He knew that her accent grew heavier when she was excited.
    Miss Alperstein