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Part Three
Two figures very different in physical stature walk down the hall. One is talking endlessly, pointing out different locations and purposes of various rooms as they make their way to Mrs. Thomas’s room, his mind not completely on the task. The other walks along occasionally nodding his head or making quiet comments or asking semi curious questions, but not totally engrossed in what the other has to say.
‘You can do this Ezra. Just keep walking and relax. At least here you are safe... well as long as you don’t anger the hulk walking beside you...’
“Ezra... Ezra, son, we’re here.” Josiah quietly draws his attention. ‘Where were you just now?’ Josiah thinks but instead asks, “Are you all right son? Maybe a little nervous?”
“ I am not your son Mr. Sanchez and I do apologize . I am fine... just trying to soak in all that you had briefly showed me on our way here. I did not mean to be so rude by...”
“Nonsense Ezra. I understand and please accept my apology. I did not mean to infer anything when I called you son. It is a habit I have, calling all those younger than me in such a way.” Josiah says while smiling warmly and winking covertly as to set the boy at ease.
Ezra nods his head in acceptance and unbeknownst to him, but noted by Josiah, his shoulders loose the sharp set they had formed when the word son escaped from Josiah’s lips.
Turning his attention to the door, Josiah knocks twice and patiently waits. Seconds later it is opened by a nice looking, young woman. She has blond hair the color of spun gold set neatly into a lose ponytail at the back. Her face is slim with high cheekbones and set behind the long dark lashes are a pair of warm brown eyes, so dark they could be mistaken for pools of chocolate.
“Mrs. Thomas, I would like to introduce you to Ezra Standish. Ezra this is Mrs. Thomas, your teacher.”
“Hello Ezra and welcome.” She greets him with a smooth smile. Turning her attention back to Josiah, “thank you Mr. Sanchez. We will take good care of Ezra.”
Before Ezra can even return the welcome, he is guided into the classroom by a thin but deceptively strong arm around his shoulder. He barely has a chance to smile a thank you to Josiah before the door is closed tightly behind him.
“Class, I would like to introduce you to Ezra Standish.”
*
Mrs. Thomas’s Classroom
As Ezra is being introduced to the class, he proceeds to take a quick check around the room, his keen eyes taking in everything.
The room is normal in its rectangular shape and though it is filled with desk, book shelves and other standard classroom equipment, it is surprisingly spacious.
When first walking in he noticed the wall directly opposite the door was all windows, slightly tinted to filter out the harshness of the early morning sun which rises over the now bare trees in the east, and that they stretch from floor to ceiling. The space was not wasted, as the teacher and students made good use by decorating with poster and pictures and pseudo-stainded glass designs, taped in various places.
The walls were painted a dull and lifeless green. They were not necessarily dirty, but they could use a new coat of paint. These too were decorated with various artistic achievements and posters to help spark memories of information covered.
To the right of the entrance was a long and ugly, gray metal desk, obviously the teachers. It was uncluttered and neat. He could see a small picture frame situated on the left corner and briefly wondered what it held.
In the middle of the desk and to the front was a small, somewhat, rectangular sign that stated Mrs. Thomas. It was made, not from the basic wood and metal that anyone can buy, but out of something that looked like clay. It was not perfect in his eyes but she must of thought it was good enough to keep it in such an honored position. Just to the left of it sat a small cup with bright yellow pencils, neatly held inside. To the left of it was, of all things, an apple. Just by looking at it from here, it must be a decoration or a paper weight, ‘at least I hope that is not meant for consumption.’
On the right corner of the desk was a stack of plastic trays. Clearly they were cheap and slightly cracked from the weight of papers, but they seemed to serve their purpose just fine.
Behind her desk, a bookcase sits, filled with, of course, books and three filing cabinets, nestled right beside it. From there, to the left and still along the wall he spies another table. This one is filled with boxes, books and papers.
Moving his attention to the left of the room, he sees the chalkboard. Different notes and information is written on the board. Simple reminders for the students and an outline of what is going to be the plan for the day. In front of the chalkboard is another table, but on wheels and behind it sits a wooden chair with a pastel floral printed seat cushion tied to the back.
He sees the desks are arranged not far from the front table. There are four groups of three desks and two groups with four. Each has a name tag on the top and a single plastic and metal chair pushed into it.
Further to the left, along the back wall, are wooden cubby holes with student names taped to the front and their belongings tucked neatly inside.
‘Well at least the classroom seems to be clean and neat,’ Ezra thinks to himself.
His attention is quickly drawn back to the teacher as she continues the introduction to the class.
“Ezra is a new student. I would like you all to make him feel very welcomed and help him out today.”
Turning back to Ezra the teacher explains that the class is getting ready to head to their special for the day.
“We will be heading to Art Class in a few minutes. Your teacher there will be Mr. Dunne. I think you will have a wonderful time there. The students are currently working on a painting project.”
Turning away from Ezra , Mrs. Thomas motioned for another student in the class to step forward.
Looking in the direction the teacher had motioned towards, Ezra sees a dark haired, curly top boy with electrifying blue eyes. Just in those eyes alone Ezra could see a boundless energy. The smile that greeted him as the child moved forward made Ezra, himself, break out into a grin.
The boy was tall and lean for a nine year old. He walked with a smooth glide that spoke of confidence and he had a peace about him that seemed to warm the room as he passed.
“Ezra, this is Buck Willmington-Dunne. Buck will be your buddy today.” Looking at Buck she continues, “Buck please show Ezra around the classroom and introduce him to some of the other students before we leave. Make sure you show him where to hang his coat and place his book bag before showing him to his seat.”
“Sure Mrs. Thomas!” Buck agrees enthusiastically.
Mrs. Thomas warmly thanks Buck for his help before her attention is pulled away by another of her students.
‘Buddy??? Surely she must be joking.’ Ezra thought as he rolled his eyes at the childish way she introduced him to his escort for the day.
“Hi, I’m Buck,” he reintroduces himself to the petite, green-eyed boy.
“Pleased to meet you Buck.” Ezra returns the greeting and takes a meek hold of the hand extended to him. “Willmington-Dunne? Any relation...”
“Yeah...” Buck eagerly responds as he takes a firm hold of Ezra’s hand and shakes with enthusiasm before they turn towards the cubby holes to the side of the room. “The art teacher is my dad. Well not my dad, dad. He adopted me when he married my mom... Hey! are you ok?”
Buck asked worriedly when he noticed that Ezra still held a small grimace on his face and was slightly rubbing his wrist, as they walked back to the cubby holes.
Ezra quickly changed his expression back to a facsimile of a smile to reassure Buck that he was fine.
‘Not good Ezra!” His mind angrily screamed at him. ‘Redirect his concern before he draws unwanted attention!’
“Yes, I am quite all right, is this where i keep...”
“Then why did you make that face when I shook hands with ya?”
“Oh, well... I injured my arm while in the process of relocating my possessions to my newly acquired living quarters.”
“Huh??”
“I think he said he hurt’d himself while moving into his new home Buck.” A new voice sounded from behind Ezra, causing him to involuntarily jump.
Quickly turning around Ezra came face to face (well almost, this new arrival was about three inches taller than him) with the owner of the new voice.
“Ohh... Hey, Ezra, this is my bestest friend and cousin Vin Tanner!” Buck introduced the young boy that had walked up unnoticed and unheard during their conversation.
Vin Tanner was thin and tall. He stood maybe two inches shorter than Buck and was finer boned in stature. His hair was light brown and shoulder length.
And just like moments before, what had occurred to Vin, occurred to Ezra. Once he settled into those eyes, the color of prized blue ribbons, a chill ran through his delicate frame. Not since Ezra was with Maude had he felt that someone could read his every thought and emotion.
For the briefest of seconds Ezra was scared.
Recollecting himself Ezra extended the hand that had already brought about too many questions and offered it in greeting.
“Hello Vin, I am Ezra Standish. It is nice to make your acquaintance.”
Taking the hand gently into his own Vin responds.
“ I know who you are. Heard the teacher just fine a few moments ago.
So what exactly did you do?” Vin questioned Ezra while still gently holding his injured hand.
He could tell he was lying. He knew something was not right. But what?
Ezra quickly pulled his hand from Vins grip, causing another brief, but all to real grimace of pain to flash across his pale countenance.
Before Ezra had to respond Mrs. Thomas called for the class to line-up.
“AH...Come on,” said Buck. “Lets get in line and then I will show you your desk when we come back to class.” Buck gestures for Ezra to go ahead of him.
Ezra quickly saw his chance to escape and took it. Even though he did not need to he still made mumbled excuses about not wanting to get lost on his first day while he walked over to the door to line up with the other students in his class.
‘That was too close,’ he thought. Taking a look back at the two bewildered looking boys, he knew that this was not the end.
‘Those two, especially Vin, could be too much trouble. I will have to try to keep my distance. If not physically then at least mentally.
I was trained by the best.
I can do this.’
“What was that about Vin?” Buck asked his equally puzzled cousin. He too was picking up on the strange actions of the other boy but also saw the panic in his eyes. Thankfully they were called to line. It was getting spooky.
“I’m not sure Buck, but something isn’t right. He’s hidin’ somethin’.”
“Ya think so too, huh?”
“Yeah Buck... lets just keep an eye out. Something ain’t right.”
“Ya got one of them feelin’s of yours?”
“That I do Buck, that I do.”
“Ok...hey, we better get in line before Mrs. Thomas gets upset and takes away our recess.” Buck says, breaking out of the melancholy mood and rebounding back into his normal exuberant self
“Right behind ya Buck.” Vin responds, unable to keep in the chuckle that escapes. Shaking his head he thinks ‘You can never keep Buck down long.’
Vin and Buck move into line. Both contemplating the brief encounter they had with Ezra.
Both pondering the enigma that is Ezra Standish.
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