Free Stealing Flowers by Edward St Amant Page A

test,” he
warned, “think before you write. Go slow! It’s your best bet.
Remember, y-o-u-r is possessive.”
    He took out the book I was reading aloud to
him, The Hobbit, by J. R. R. Tolkien. While I read, he checked my
homework from the weekend. Although The Hobbit seemed like a good
story, I’d trouble with the words and it went slow for me. Every
third or fourth word I read, needed clarification by Mr.Vondt. I
knew he had hoped I would finish it by September and would start
reading a continuation of the story, The Lord of the Rings, by the
same writer, but I found it hard.
    The lesson went much the same as the others.
But near the end, something happened that I had been dreading from
the day I met him. I was at the part where Bilbo was lost in the
black orc-mines under the Misty Mountains. This is where Bilbo
finds the ring and outwits the vile creature, Gollum. Mr. Vondt had
finished marking my homework notebook.
    I struggled with misspelled sentences such
as, What has it got in it pocketes? He sat beside me closer than he
had ever risked, and then he put his hand on my shoulder and all at
once tried to kiss me.
    “What are you doing?” I said and attempted
to struggle out of his embrace, but he was too strong.
    “I want to talk to you a moment,” he urged
with a whisper, his hands still on my shoulders, but he no longer
tried to kiss me. “Will you stop squirming and I’ll let you go?” I
nodded and relaxed in his grip. “I have a lot of love to give you,”
he whispered. “I can teach you much about life. I’ve been
every–”
    I sucker-punched him in the nose, just as
Lloyd had taught me, and jumped out of his grip. I then hit him
over the head with The Hobbit as forcefully as I could. It was a
hard covered edition, but it had no effect, moreover, his nose
wasn’t even bleeding from my sucker-punch. I should have run. I had
missed my opportunity to escape. He grabbed me and pinned me down
on the floor, sitting on top of me. He proceeded to try and kiss me
again, but I spit in his face.
    “My father will kill you,” I hissed with
venom.
    He drew his fist back to strike me, but
stopped himself at the last second. “I know about you and your
friend Lloyd, you little bugger.” He smiled and must have seen I
knew it to be true. He’d been the man asking about me at Carling
Street. “I visited with some of your friends,” he continued. “Your
new parents don’t know about Lloyd, do they? If you put out for him
and held your tongue, you can do the same for me. If not, I’ll tell
them what a sodomist they have adopted! They’ll send you back . . .
they’ll be repulsed and be glad you’re gone. Now, turn over!”
    He raised himself off me and I pretended to
turn over, then elbowed him in the crutch, rushing out of his
reach. Then the front doors flew open and I ran behind Una who
stood there as I’d never seen her before. Her eyes were filled with
fury. Mr. Vondt’s face had turn an unearthly pallid grey. He looked
truly evil, truly scared. She said nothing for a time and when she
spoke it was no more than a rustle.
    “I’ll fetch you the doctor,” she whispered
and suddenly was upon him, smashing from her right and left fists
with her huge frame pushing out the force behind them. He fell from
her blows, rose on one knee, his face already a mass of cuts and
blood. However, she hadn’t finished, and although, he tried to fend
off the final blows with his hands, they came at his ears and
cheeks and he keeled over. She stood over him shaking.
    “You’ll be gettin’ out,” she cried in one
violent burst of emotion, “and be glad to be there. If I see you in
my home ever again, I won’t let you breathe one more breath. That’s
more than you deserve.”
    She leaned over, picked him up by the scruff
of his shirt and pants and carried him through the house to the
front door. “Get the door, Christian,” she called. I was surprised
to see that she actually gave it the old one, two, three, and