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    quokka
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Wellstead - 5. WSD Chapter 5

Before boarding the plane at 10.10 pm to leave Australia, I said a sad farewell to Mrs Parkes, Mr Hills and Judge Andrews, as well as Julia Crenshaw, Danny and Sam Alder, plus Mark and Toby Kilton who had all come to the airport to see us leave for a new start in life.

 

I knew I would be in regular contact with Mr Hills, and Mrs Parkes had managed to get a new job as senior house keeper for a large house, so I didn’t need to worry about leaving her without a job. The flight to London was made easier with us flying first class, and we were glad that we had arrived in the UK reasonably refreshed at 12.30 pm local time. We made our way to the city to do some shopping while we waited for the connecting flight to Inverness.

 

When we arrived in Scotland, I had booked hotel rooms for an overnight stay before we travelled to Strathpeffer the next day. We had a light dinner before retiring for the night. Gran and Gramps were relieved that they were back in their home country again, as they had missed it even though it was only a short while that they had been away.

 

The following day we collected the Landrover 110 which I had ordered in advance. It arrived at the hotel an hour after we had finished breakfast. Once we had loaded up our luggage, we headed north to the Highlands and the town of Strathpeffer where my Grandparents would be spending their remaining years together.

 

When we arrived at Beauly Cottage Gran started to cry because it was so beautiful. It was the perfect home to retire in. After we had unloaded our luggage, Gramps let me drive the Landrover to the shed behind the cottage. Then I helped Gramps get all the luggage indoors. Over the next few days we settled into the cottage and the town of Strathpeffer. Gran and Gramps had reunited with all of their old friends and it was if they had never gone away.

 

For me, I enrolled into the nearest private grammar school to start the new school year in August which was just over a month away. This gave me time to do my entry interviews, set my study subjects, complete the orientation, and organise my uniforms. Over the next three weeks I helped Gramps with establishing a large vegetable garden, building a roomy chicken run with an enclosed shelter, plus a few shelters with a roof and three sides and a half wall on the fourth side for some stock, mainly goats, a few sheep and a dairy cow, as Gran and Gramps wanted to be as self-sufficient as possible.

 

When there was just a week to go before I started school again, I started to get nervous and hoped that I would not have as many troubles as I had had when I was in Australia. I chose Gaelic, Italian and Spanish as languages to learn during my first two years at this school, and hoped to learn economics and business studies for the final three years.

 

I was enrolled in Advanced Mathematics, Physics and Biology, English Literature and World History as my core subjects, so I had a full timetable for my first year at the grammar school, which was located 25 kilometres away in the next town.

 

I would be catching a bus to school each day, leaving the bus stop in town at 7.10 am, and arriving half an hour later, just 5 minutes before the start of school. Each class was a period of 70 minutes, with a five-minute gap between classes, which would be barely enough time to get from one class to the next. I would be getting home just after 5 pm each evening, which during the winter months would be after dark. This would take a bit of adjustment as the classes were a lot longer than I was used too.

 

On the first day of school I nervously made the 5-minute walk into town to the bus stop, arriving with 5 minutes to spare. I had risen early to shower and make sure I was properly dressed to conform to the school’s high standards. I ate a fairly large breakfast, so as to have plenty of energy to get me through the day, and had a packed lunch with me as I was not sure what there was available at the school canteen.

 

There were no other students attending my school at this bus stop, so I was a little disappointed that no one was living in the same area as me, but when I stepped onto the bus, I noticed that there were three other students already seated. I decided not to interact with them just yet since it was my first day at school, so I sat about midway but slightly forward, so as to avoid the others who were all seated at the back of the bus, and causing a lot of noise, much to the annoyance of the bus driver.

 

I had a jacket over the top of my uniform, so it wasn’t obvious I was attending the same school as them. When we arrived at the school I took off my jacket, placing it inside my backpack, before entering the school grounds. I was suddenly pushed forward and tripped, landing face down on the damp grass. The only thing I hurt was my dignity, but I was inwardly seething. The boys that caused me to fall just laughed and kept walking. Once back on my feet, I straightened up my uniform as best as I could and continued walking to the main building, where I was able to get my bearings and make my way to my assigned locker.

 

As I was storing away my jacket and backpack, having taken out the books I needed for the first two classes, I noticed the three boys from the bus approaching. At the last moment I dropped my backpack on the floor in front of them, causing the first boy to trip over it and the other two to bump into and fall over him, creating an untidy heap of three boys struggling to get back to their feet, cursing at me as they did. I just grinned at them. The boys nearby who witnessed it just started laughing at them. I closed my locker and picked up my backpack off the ground.

 

“I would think twice before you try that on me again, or you will get the same treatment back each time,” I said to them so only they could hear me, and I walked off towards my homeroom class.

 

Thankfully none of the three bullies were in my homeroom class. I chose to sit in the centre of the room, about 3 rows back from the front and to the left of the wide centre aisle. There was a total of 7 rows and 6 seats in each row. I had chosen my seat well as I had no one sitting to my left, and no one sitting directly behind me, or the seat next to that either. The one guy sitting directly in front of me was the closest to where I sat, which I was happy about. The teacher entered the room after the 2nd bell.

 

“Good morning, boys. Welcome to a new school year and semester. Where you are sitting now is where you will remain seated for the remainder of the semester, except for some minor alterations so we can have pairs for class projects,” the teacher announced. He quickly jotted down where everyone was seated, before he looked up again. We all remained silent till he had finished.

 

“Ok, McNealy, can you please go back one row and sit next to the new boy. Wellstead, isn’t it?” the teacher said enquiring if he had my name right and I just nodded my head. “Yes, please sit next to Mr Wellstead. Now for those who don’t know me, my name is Mr Charente. I am Scottish born, but my grandparents originate from Switzerland. That is why I have the unusual surname. I will be your homeroom teacher, and for those lucky ones who have chosen languages, I teach Gaelic and Italian plus English Literature,” the teacher said. I now knew my teacher for three of my subjects.

 

The boy McNealy sat in the chair to my left. He smiled and nodded a greeting as he settled into his new seat. He was a plain looking boy about the same height as me, with sandy blond hair and green eyes. That was all I noticed about him in that short period of time that we sat next to each other in homeroom. The bell went for the end of homeroom signalling we now had five minutes to get to our first class.

 

For me it was advanced mathematics. I had noticed McNealy and one other from my homeroom attending. I sat down in roughly the same location as I did in homeroom. McNealy sat next to me and the other boy sat on the other side of the centre aisle across from me.

 

“Hey, lad, my name is Jock McDonough,” the other boy said as he held out his hand. I took it firmly to greet him. “And I am Tobias McNealy. Where are you from? The accent is strange. I can’t quite pick it out,” McNealy said. Before I could answer, the teacher entered the room and we all stood up.

 

“Good morning, boys, and welcome. Please sit. For those who don’t know me I am Mr Jemison, and this is Advanced Mathematics class. Please welcome our newest member to the class, Master Grant Wellstead, who comes from Australia. He is now living here with his grandparents,” the teacher explained.

 

I stood up briefly to show myself to the whole class. The first three classes seemed to fly past quickly and everyone was friendly to me. There was no sign of the bullies in any of my classes, which I was thankful for. Between classes, Tobias and Jock were able to get me to tell them about what happened at the lockers before homeroom started, and I told them what happened when I stepped off the bus, before the incident in at the lockers.

 

I was warned to be careful with those three boys as they gave everyone a hard time at the start of each semester. When it came to lunch time, I told Tobias and Jock who had been in all my classes so far, that I had brought my own lunch so I would be going outside to eat. Tobias suggested that this might be a bad idea since the three bullies tended to stay outside during the breaks, and so I joined them in the canteen, sitting at a small table that only had 4 seats around it.

 

When I saw the three bullies enter the canteen hall, I let the others know. Tobias said the stocky one was Jemison. He told me Jemison was our maths teacher’s son, and his nickname was Gremlin because he looked so ugly, which made me chuckle. Next to him was Sanderson, nicknamed Sands, and the last one was Squid, because he was evil and slimy. His real name was Squires.

 

As they began to make their way towards our table, I stood up and walked straight towards them with a big mean look on my face. That was enough to convince them to change directions and head for a table in another corner instead of the vacant one next to ours. When I returned to my seat, Tobias and Jock slapped me on the back, congratulating me for being brave enough to stand up to them, and to actually make them change their plans to harass us.

 

After we had eaten, we chatted for a bit getting to know each other, and I learnt that Tobias was also from Strathpeffer, but got a ride with his mother as she worked in town not far from the school. By the end of the day, I was good friends with Tobias and Jock. We had exchanged phone numbers, Skype and email addresses, so we could stay in contact. As I was heading towards the bus Tobias raced over and asked if I would like a lift to school in the morning. I gladly accepted the offer.

 

When I boarded the bus, Gremlin, Squid and Sands were already seated at the back of the bus tormenting some of the younger boys. I tried to ignore them as I took my seat, but as it got louder and worse for the younger boys, I stood up and made my way towards the back. As soon as they noticed me approaching, Gremlin told his cohorts to leave them, and the four younger boys made their way forward out of the reach of their tormentors.

 

Once the younger ones had passed me and found a new place to sit, I gave the three bullies a long hard glare before I returned to my seat. After I had stepped off the bus I stood watching it continue on its journey. I noticed the three bullies’ bare backsides facing me from the back window of the bus. A short distance on the bus suddenly came to a screeching halt, causing the boys to fly forwards and land heavily in the aisle. I could hear them cursing at the bus driver as they stepped off the bus rubbing their sore heads and bones. It seemed they had been forced to continue their journey home on foot.

 

I laughed and just turned and headed in the opposite direction, looking back every now and then to make sure that I was not being followed by the trio. As a safety measure I scooted around the back alley that runs along the back of a number of the larger properties including my grandparent’s home, and disappeared over the back fence before anyone could see me.

 

Later that afternoon, just before dinner, I received a text message from Tobias. It read:

We will pick you up from the bus stop at 7.20 am, as it is only a 20-minute ride in the car to school, shorter by ten minutes than riding in the old bus. I smiled at the message and sent a reply that I would see him then.

 

When I met Mrs McNealy the next morning, I found her to be very nice and friendly. I made sure I was always polite and respectful, hoping that I could get a regular ride with them so as to avoid the bully trio, who were really starting to annoy me. When we arrived at the school gates, we saw Gremlin standing near a car, shaking and looking like he was about to cry.

 

He was being verbally told off for his behaviour on the bus. I presumed that it was his mother who was giving him a right earful. I picked up pieces of what she was saying, including that he had to apologise to the bus driver, and promise him that he would be on his best behaviour for the rest of the semester when travelling on the bus.

 

When I saw Gremlin again just before the homeroom bell, he was on his own, visibly shaken by the disapproval of his mother. He was looking quite unwell, and I felt sorry for him in a way. After the homeroom class, I dashed to the bathroom for a quick leak, before my first class for the day. On entering I heard the faint noise of someone crying, and I wondered if it was Gremlin, so I gently knocked on the cubicle door.

 

“Is that you, Gremlin, I mean Jemison? Are you ok mate? Do you want to talk?” I asked. I got no reply so I took a step back to see if I could see any shoes under the door, to see if it was Jemison or not, and that’s when I saw the blood. Racing to the cubical next door, I stepped up onto the closed toilet lid and peered over the wall to see Jemison holding a razor blade across his wrist. He was shaking a lot. I jumped back down and went back to the door.

 

“Let me in or stand back so I can kick the door in, Jemison,” I said urgently. I was raising my foot to kick, when the door opened. I saw the blade on the floor in a small pool of blood. Just then another boy entered the bathroom and I told him to go quickly to get a teacher to call for an ambulance.

 

Grabbing some paper hand towels from the dispenser, I folded them in half and wrapped the bundle around his wound as I guided Jemison out of the cubicle. I got him to sit down on the ground near the sinks. I had seen that the cut was not deep and had not hit a main artery, so I just kept pressure on the wound to reduce the blood flow, and kept his arm raised.

 

Eventually a teacher walked in holding a small first aid kit. He told me to make way, so he could attend to the boy. I was surprised by this as it would mean I would have to release the pressure on his arm. “No, I am staying as I have pressure on the wound. Hand me a large gauze, disinfectant and a large bandage please,” I said in reply.

 

“Did you not hear me? I said move away,” the teacher said in a very loud voice, but I was not going to move. “No, I will not move until his arm is properly bandaged to reduce the blood flow,” I said to the teacher trying to keep my courage up, knowing I was right.

 

“Leave the student alone, Mr Darlington. He is correct with what he is doing. I suggest you move out of the way and let this student and I treat the injured boy,” a female voice said from the doorway of the bathroom. The teacher was not happy with the way he was being treated and he stormed out.

 

The lady was the school nurse. She came up beside me and grabbed some iodine and gauze, handing them to me so I could replace the blood-soaked paper towels with the gauze and a bandage to wrap the arm wound tightly with her assistance. “A job well done. Master Wellstead, isn’t it?” the nurse stated. I nodded as she checked Jemison’s pulse rate. I assisted the nurse to get Jemison to the infirmary, where he was placed on a bed to await an ambulance to take him to hospital.

 

While he was resting, I explained to the nurse the events of the previous day and that morning that lead up to this incident. The nurse made notes as I was talking and after I had explained it all, she wrote out a hall pass, so I wouldn’t get into trouble for being late to class, before she told me to head to class. Mr Charente had been informed about what had happened, and he just motioned for me to take a seat when I arrived while he continued with the lesson.

At the end of the class I was gathering my books together when an announcement came over the PA: “Wellstead in Year 7, report to the administration office.” I was a bit surprised that my name had been called, and wondered if it had anything to do with what had happened earlier. A few minutes later I was being ushered into the Headmaster’s Office where I was motioned to sit in a chair across from the very large desk.

Copyright May 2017 Preston Wigglesworth, All Rights are Reserved
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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What a great and exciting chapter.Wellstead thinks very quickly on his feet and comes up with interesting solutions at times.

   I wonder what the headmaster wants? It usually is never good when they want a prrivate chat. Their chats outside are the ones that are usually the good ones.lol

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I wonder if Jemison is getting abused at home that he took the reprimand so badly the way he did? His actions would suggest something is wrong at home. I think the other two are just along for the ride or the heck of it.

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I wouldn't be surprised if he is in the office because of Mr. Darlington complaining to the headmaster.  Big mistake on his part if so.

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B)..........................Ahh, Quakka always a pleasure to read a story of yours. A similar thyme with different business and scenery yet our young hero perseveres his  almost fatal accident and bullied encounters. Now we get a glimpse of Scotland with its seasons and country flavor, I'm sure Grant will take in an interest in running another business venture, as he can't help himself. :rolleyes:.  Great story chapters!

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4 hours ago, Terry P said:

I wouldn't be surprised if he is in the office because of Mr. Darlington complaining to the headmaster.  Big mistake on his part if so.

 

B)......................That was my 1st guess.

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7 hours ago, Bushman60 said:

I wonder if Jemison is getting abused at home that he took the reprimand so badly the way he did? His actions would suggest something is wrong at home. I think the other two are just along for the ride or the heck of it.

 

B)....................... Yeah, kids that act out like he does with his cronies is begging for attention it could be abuse from home. His reactions of his mothers rebut in the car really shook the kid up, and he must of felt no way out!

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If Grant is in trouble because of Mr. Darlington, I imagine the nurse will be able to set things right. Couldn't it be the headmaster wants to commend him for his fast thinking. Although he observed the cuts we're shallow, in theory he saved Gremlin's life. Your young characters are almost always plucky, and Grant is no exception. I am excited to hear more about his time in Scotland. Thanks.

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