Post Script

By the way. When Dad was speeding to the school, he got pulled over by a "Constable Handcock". It was a good thing he had already walked away by the time I found out his name. I just burst out laughing. I was a half hour too early, anyway.
 
Also, I found two entries in my notebook, rather than my Christian Service Journal. For my personal experiences, you know? If you haven’t read the entry before this one, stop after this sentence and read it first.
 
***
 
[On the bus to Belmay Primary School.]
One of these ladies has a voice that instils fear into my heart. Like Mrs Gun and Miss Barret combined.
[They were the librarians of my primary school. A truly, truly frightening pair.]
One of the girls stumbled climsily to her seat. She launched herself at me, throwing her head onto my lap and clinging there. She was warm, like a babe, and carried an aroma that seems unique to children like herself.
"Sit down, or you will have to be strapped in," growled the Mrs Gun/Miss Barret woman.

One little boy keeps repeating everything he hears, as if he’s trying to get a feel of the words.

They really are, very special. But how special? Contrasted to my class of 8, they’re really quite… Confronting. The ‘village idiots’ of the Elizabethan era. Were they really so readily humiliated?

 
***
 
[In the corridor, on my way to recess.]
I saw one little girl in the pictures on the wall. Anastacia, read her name. Everything about her was beautiful. Her questioning eyes, foremost. She passed me in the corridor, as she was wheeled by on her chair. Inwardly, I smiled and waved at her, though she took no notice of me.
 
Following came a boy with lolling eyes, trying to stumble alone with a support to lean on.  Then came James, strapped to a mechanism that allowed him to walk upright by clamping around his thorrax with a vice. The mechanism, without the boy, looked like it would snap shut on its prey. A cage, waiting to be filled. A demon skeleton whose ribs ensnared. James made a meagre effort to take feeble steps as he was slowly wheeled along helplessly, his feet dragging on the floor behind him.
 
***
 
At recess, I got to meet a few more of the kids. Lara had been happily shovelling dirt into her mouth. Another girl approached Mr P (who had McDonalds) with drool all over her chest. She hung around to get chips (from Maccas) off us. One of the boys took my hand and led me up the playground to go down the slide- Jack, I think his name is. Cute fella, dressed as a cowboy. A lot of them had slightly bulging, unfocused eyes. I guess I got a rather tame group overall. My heart goes out to all of them though.
 
~John
 
PS: Easter egg hunt tomorrow. I spent $8 getting extra eggs for the kids as a leaving present.

PPS: Mr P (Colin, I think. His last name’s something like Pexter, but Mr P’s cooler) is an awesome teacher. Mr Redden through and through, even in appearance, though lacking the analytical skills of an English teacher. He makes up for it with his own martial arts academy, and his experiencing in fencing. He holds a martial arts class at the University of Western Australia. Well. I know where I’m studying after school.

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2 thoughts on “Post Script

  1. Beth says:

    you are soo lucky ur CS is only 4 days

  2. Beth says:

    P.s. will be offline for a while so dont worry.

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