Creative Writing Submission #3

Third installment of my Creative Writing project. As always, criticism is welcome...

Like most classes, the biology class sped by. This was pretty typical as Charles through himself at the work. He was one of those kids that seemed to thrive on learning. He hated when the bell rang because that meant he had to brave the hallways of Cragsville High School.

As the other kids left the room, Charles took his time. It was his lunch period so he was in no hurry. If he took his time he could head back to his locker, drop off his books and get his lunch without being bothered by anyone. Occasionally he would hang out in Mr. Martin’s class for most of the time and run to his locker just before the end of lunch. There, he would wolf his lunch down and then just head to his next class.

Mr. Martin watched as he Charles took his time putting his things together.

“Is there something wrong, Mr. Davenport?” he asked.

“No sir, I’m just not in a real hurry. It’s just lunch time and I don’t need all the whole 40 minutes they give us,” he replied.

“How do you like high school so far,” he questioned. It was fairly apparent that something was bothering the boy.

“It’s okay, I guess,” Charles replied timidly, looking at the floor.

“Just okay? That doesn’t sound very reassuring. I would have thought based on the fervor to apply to your work in class that you would be having the time of your life. What’s the matter Charles?” There was real concern in the older man’s voice, something that told Charles that he had an idea what was happening but needed to hear it from the younger boy first hand.

“I don’t know if I should say anything,” Charles slurred, continuing to focus his attention to the gray tiled floor.

“Are you still having problems with Darrel and Sarah?” he questioned, trying to pry the information from the boy.

“Oh no Mr. Martin, they are fine. In fact, I really like them now. They treat me good now,” he stated with vigor. Charles didn’t want to get them in trouble again because they had in fact treated him very well.

The teacher continued to probe, “Is everything all right at him?”

“Yeah, it’s fine there too. My parents are great. I’m just tired of…” his voice trailed off.

Mr. Martin knew he had him on the precipice, “Come on Charles, what is it? You are my best student and I’m concerned. Is it another kid harassing you?”

The boy considered for just a bit too long and the teacher knew he had hit the bullseye.

“Charles, I’m not going to ask you who it is, because I know you won’t tell me. I don’t blame you. If I found out who it was and went to the boy you would be the one that ended up suffering the most. I’m sure that kid would do worse to you if he knew you went to a teacher about him. I understand that. But I can’t let you suffer anymore. I won’t stand for it. I’m going to help you, but you have to make me a promise,” Mr. Martin stared at Charles, “can you do that Charles?”

“Promise what Mr. Martin?” he replied, looking up from the floor.

“You have to promise that you won’t tell anyone what I’m going to show or tell you. If you did, I can’t imagine the consequences,” there was real concern in the older man’s voice.

“I can keep a secret Mr. Martin, I promise,” Charles’ curiosity was peeked. The idea of sharing a secret was compelling but the prospect of keeping Gunner Blanton in check was far more inspiring.

The biology teacher clapped his hands together, “I’ll tell you what Charles, you get through the week and then meet me here on Saturday at 9:00am. You do that and I’ll make sure that you will never have to worry about your problem again. Okay?”

“All right, Mr. Martin. But how are you going to do that?”

“Charles, wait until Saturday, and tell no one about our meeting, okay. This is important, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied.

“Now get to lunch. I don’t want your stomach growling during your next class.”