“All the kids at school hate me. You went home at noon. And Slinky and Tom drenched my head under the pump. The rest of the kids cheered—except for Marianne.”
“I heard. Awful sorry, Bonnie. But you’re okay now, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“They don’t hate you. It’s just that you’re the new kid. Look, I’m taking my lunch tomorrow. So you’ll be okay. Now, stop thinking about those boys. I want you to meet my crow.”
“Oh Archie, I don’t think—”
“Quiet, Bonnie! You could scare the crow away!”
“Then how do I tell you when I want to say something?”
“That’s what the aspen branches are for, remember? You tap me on the shoulder with a branch. When I turn around, you whisper what you want to say. Now, what did you want to say?”
“Oh, never mind,” said Bonnie. But after a while she tapped him with her branch.
“Yes?” Archie whispered.
“Are you sure about this crow, Archie?”
“Of course I am. I told you—it came to me once. Just wait. You’ll see it one of these days.”
“Well, I’m tired of tramping through the woods. Let’s get home so you can have a good visit with Boots.”
As soon as they were out of the woods, Archie cried, “Race ya!” and ran down the hill toward the barnyard.
Bonnie let him go. Though he hadn’t said so, she knew that Archie had walked home with her to make sure the bullies didn’t follow. She was grateful, but now she had to think by herself. Should she tell her parents what had happened?
Bonnie decided not to say anything. What was the use? Mum would just say she should stand up to the bullies. After all, that’s what Mum had done. Bonnie hated to admit it, but she knew she wasn’t nearly as brave as Mum.
“Wait for me, Archie!” she yelled, grabbing the top of the barnyard gate and jumping over it. “Wow, Archie! Look what I did! I cleared the gate in just one leap!”
But Archie wasn’t listening. He was running ahead with Boots at his heels. So Bonnie went chasing after the two of them. Soon they were all zigzagging around the barnyard.
EIGHT: SWING HIGH
Bonnie was in a complete daze as she walked to school one brisk Monday morning in early November. The afternoon before, Mrs. Elmhirst and her son, Roy, had visited the farm. Her parents had been pleased by the owner’s compliments on their upkeep of the place.
Then Mrs. Elmhirst had asked Bonnie if she liked her new school.
“No,” Bonnie had said, “I don’t.”
Bonnie could still see the hard stares from Mum and Dad. So she had added, “I do like school, but I don’t like…”
Then, Roy the business man came to the rescue. He smiled and winked at her as he said, “Perhaps, you mean that you don’t like being the new pupil.” Bonnie had nodded and smiled with relief.
The visit over, her parents walked with the Elmhirsts to their Ford Lincoln. Roy turned to Dad and said, “Do you mind if I give something to Bonnie to help her in the new school?”
“It’s fine with me,” Dad said, smiling.
Roy turned around and pressed something into Bonnie’s hand. She mumbled, “Thank you,” in a very low voice. Mum did not like her accepting anything from anyone.
After their guests had gone, Bonnie ran upstairs to her bed and opened her hand. She could not believe her eyes. It was a whole quarter! Was she seeing things? Was it really that much? Yes, it was a quarter. She’d only ever had a nickel to spend. This was worth five of them!
She was still daydreaming about it the next morning, all the way to school. A nickel would buy a package of five suckers—big, round suckers all wrapped together in cellophane. She liked the orange and lemon best, but brown ones were good, too. Black was also nice, and even green candy wasn’t too bad. But for a quarter, she could also buy a huge chocolate bar, or a big ice-cream cone with two rounded scoops side by side; or she could buy a delicious bottle of Orange Crush that would tickle all the way down her throat. But she finally decided to share it with her best friends—she would take them to the store at lunchtime.
The morning stretched out uneventfully. At noon, Bonnie, Marianne, and Angela stepped quickly along the pathway by the road that led to the general store. A brisk wind nipped at the girls’ scarves and whipped them across their faces.
“Brrr! It’s cold for this time of year,” said Bonnie. In Massassaga, the days were usually sunny and snowless until December.
“Around here, once November comes, one can expect snow anytime,” said Angela.
“And it probably won’t leave till spring,” said Marianne with a sigh.
As Marianne flung open the door of the little all-purpose store, the girls felt the rush of warm air from the pot-belly stove in the centre of the room. There was no one sitting in the chairs around the stove. Most folks were too busy now preparing their homes for winter.
“And what can I do for you fine ladies this afternoon?” asked Mr. Weir, the owner. He leaned against the shelves behind the counter and put his thumbs behind his suspenders.
“I am treating my friends today,” Bonnie said proudly. “Can you show us your assortment of suckers?” Bonnie thought “assortment” was the right word. She liked the way it sounded, anyway.
Mr. Weir smiled broadly under his grey moustache as he limped around the counter. He had never recovered from an old war wound. “Here you are, ladies. Take a look at that jar! I have suckers in every colour of the rainbow. Five cents for five. But you must pick all different colours when purchasing from this jar—that is, for the price I said.”
Bonnie and Marianne opened their eyes wide and let their jaws drop. Angela just smiled. Then all three circled around the jar like bees around a honeycomb. They chose red for Marianne, purple for Angela, and orange for Bonnie. That left only yellow and green for the last two.
“Goodbye, Mr. Weir.” Bonnie waved as the three girls strutted out the door, candy in hand.
On the way back to school, the girls went past Betty’s house, just as Betty was rushing out the door.
“Here,” Bonnie shouted. “Have a sucker!” Betty gawked at Bonnie for a second, then quickly chose the yellow one.
There, thought Bonnie with satisfaction. She had paid for Betty’s piece of orange. Too bad Betty had chosen the yellow sucker, though. Green tasted a little like soap. She hoped Archie wouldn’t mind.
The clock at the back of the room was ticking its way to two-thirty.
Bonnie was bored. She was still doing work she’d already completed the year before. She shoved her scribbler to the top of her desk and fished around in the pocket of her skirt. Good! she thought. The candy was safe inside its crinkly cellophane wrapper. She’d give it to Archie right after school. He’d be so surprised!
Bonnie looked back to the clock to see if it was three o’clock yet. No such luck. The minute hand had moved to two-thirty-two. As she was turning back to face the front of the room, she thought she saw a dark leaf sticking to the east window. But it wasn’t a leaf. It was something with wings.
What could that be? Bonnie squinted hard at the big black thing. It was…no, it couldn’t be…but, yes, it was…
A crow!
“Sir!” Bonnie cried out before she could stop herself.
“Bonnie Brown, are you the teacher today? The teacher is the only one who talks in class without being asked.”
“But…but…”
“Well, out with it. What’s the matter now?”
“There’s a crow in the window, Sir McDougall…sir…Mr. McDougall!”
The whole class turned swiftly to the window with their eyes peering almost out of their heads.
Mr. McDougall strode to the window. The crow lifted first its left wing, then its right. Mr. McDougall raised his right eyebrow as if he was imitating it. Then the crow put its wings down and Mr. McDougall pushed his eyebrows together. The crow and the teacher stared at each other for a good half-minute.
“Well…!” Mr. McDo
ugall said finally. “Class, put aside the work you are doing. I do believe we have the perfect opportunity for a science lesson.” Groans came from the back of the classroom, but Mr. McDougall ignored them. “Crows are strong birds that prey on smaller creatures—like mice or doves, but very occasionally, they can become pets of humans—just like parrots. I have even heard that sometimes…”
As Mr. McDougall droned on, Bonnie looked at Archie. He waved back and nodded his head. While she had his attention, Bonnie thought she’d show him the sucker. She reached inside her skirt pocket and drew out the candy. Mr. McDougall had left the window and was about to write something on the board. She waved the sucker in the air.
With his eyes on the sucker, Archie waved back.
But Bonnie had misjudged her teacher’s focus of attention.
“Bonnie!” Mr. McDougall exclaimed. “Whatever are you doing?”
Every eye now turned from the crow to Bonnie. The afternoon was turning out to be quite interesting!
“March right up here and put that on my desk,” Mr.
McDougall said sternly. “There is no eating during class hours. That includes no candy and no chewing gum. Didn’t they teach you anything at that other school?”
Bonnie walked up to the desk and, with great sadness, set the candy down in front of Mr. McDougall—right beside the big leather strap.
“And, Bonnie, you will stay after school for your punishment. Archie, you too will stay.”
Bonnie slinked back to her seat, her cheeks burning. Was she now going to get the strap? And with Archie watching? She shivered a little as she sat down. Then she noticed Betty looking at her with kind eyes. Maybe Betty wasn’t so bad after all. And next time, Bonnie decided, she’d be more careful. After all, she still had four nickels tucked away in her pocket. She’d treat Archie yet.
Meanwhile, the crow had swooped away from the window. The afternoon’s entertainment was over, and all returned to their lessons.
“It’s four o’clock. Close your books now, class,” Mr. McDougall said, strolling down the centre aisle. Bonnie saw that the green sucker was still up at the front, right where she’d put it. At least the hateful teacher had not eaten it while the students were doing their desk work.
“Now, class dismissed!” Mr. McDougall snapped. “All except Bonnie and Archie. You…come to the front!” The teacher then looked down at something on his desk.
Standing at the front beside Archie, Bonnie’s eyes were fixed on the strap. It looked just like a piece of horse harness! How many lashes would she get? She had never been strapped at school before! She took a deep breath and tightened her hands into fists as she stood waiting.
Mr. McDougall looked up then and said, “Bonnie, you will write on the blackboard, ‘I shall not play with candy in class.’ I guess that fifty times will be enough. And Archie, you were waving for that candy when you should have been paying attention. So you can do the same. Now clean the boards and then start your writing.”
Before long, Archie and Bonnie had erased the lessons, each picked up a piece of chalk, and started writing their lines at opposite ends of the blackboard: I shall not play with candy in class. After Bonnie had written the sentence five times, her vision started to blur. She shook her blonde curls and started in on line six. By line eight, the words started looking like nonsense. I shall…Shall? Who made up that word? It didn’t mean anything, really!
Bonnie looked over at Archie. He was only at line five. Bonnie slowed down a bit so they’d finish at the same time. By line twenty, Bonnie was covered in chalk dust. It was in her throat and all over her navy skirt. By line twenty-five, she was coughing so hard that Mr. McDougall walked over to her and said she could stop.
“I must review your lines before you leave, however, Bonnie—and yours, too, Archie Johnson.” Mr. McDougall examined the board with his grey-green eyes. “‘I shall not play with…what? Play with crows in class?”
Bonnie looked. Yes, that’s what she’d written—twice! Mr. McDougall would never believe that she was a good student who loved school. Sighing, she corrected her mistakes.
“That’s better, Bonnie,” Mr. McDougall said quietly. “You may both go now.”
Bonnie and Archie were halfway down the aisle when their teacher added: “Pick up your sucker, Bonnie, and don’t bring any more into the classroom. If you buy one at noon, leave it in your lunch pail in the cloakroom.”
Bonnie could not believe her ears.
“Here, Archie,” Bonnie mumbled, handing the green sucker to her friend. “I hope you like green.”
“Oh, sure! I like any colour!”
Mr. McDougall smiled, but Bonnie was already halfway down the aisle, heading toward the girls’ cloakroom.
Bonnie and Archie walked out onto the steps. “I’ll have to take the shortcut, or I’ll be late for chores,” Archie said, his green candy bulging out his right cheek. “Sorry I can’t walk the long way round with you. But you’ll be okay.” He clambered over the east rail fence and scampered off. Bonnie watched till he disappeared between the trees to the east of the school.
Bonnie drew her navy jacket close to her chest. The weather was turning colder every day. As she walked across the schoolyard to the front gate, she saw that Tom and Slinky were giving rides on the swing. Tom was making the children line up to take their turns. Betty and Tom’s sister Ruth were up next, and two giggling girls from Grade Eight were standing behind them. Slinky was pulling on the dangling rope, not hard at the moment as little Freddie from Grade One was afraid to go too high
“Hello, Bonnie,” Betty shouted. “C’mon and have a swing.”
“No, thank you,” said Bonnie. “I have to hurry home or I’ll be late fetching the cows.”
“Oh, c’mon, little milkmaid,” Slinky said. “We won’t make you wait your turn. You can go on the ride right away!”
“No, thank you…” Bonnie made a run for the gate but she wasn’t fast enough. Tom ran and caught her in his iron grip. He dragged her over to the swing and made her throw her jacket on the ground.
Slinky had stopped the swing and was helping young Freddie get down. Then, with his big-mouthed grin, he held the seat down for Bonnie. “Crawl in, now!”
Bonnie stood firmly in front of the swing and did not move. She knew there was no escape, but she was not going to make it easy for them.
“Need some help, eh, milkmaid?” Tom sneered. The two bullies put an arm in each of hers and pushed her toward the seat.
“Sit!” Slinky snarled as he grabbed the dangling rope.
Bonnie decided she had no choice and so pushed her legs over the wooden seat and under the inverted V rope. She plopped down on the seat and grabbed the two sides of the rope triangle above her with shaking hands.
Then Slinky started to pull. At first, the swinging wasn’t too bad. But soon she knew she was going far too high.
“Higher!” Tom shouted. “Take the high-and-mighty higher!”
Bonnie took a fast look down at Slinky, who was now pulling the rope so hard that he was bent over toward the ground. “No!” she screamed. “No higher!”
“Higher!” came the shout from a few of the other boys.
“Higher! Higher!” A chorus rose up from the students standing around the swing.
Bonnie’s whole body was shaking now, but she did not cry out again. She was using all her strength just to hang on. Her arms were being slashed by the leafless lower branches of the maple tree and some of the lighter branches were breaking off. Then larger branches started hitting her arms and legs. They stung like mad, and she was shaking so hard, she was afraid she was going to fall. She hung on with all the strength she could muster.
Then she heard a young girl’s shrill voice screaming. “Stop! She’s going to faint! Let her down!” It was Betty.
“Tom, you make Slinky stop or I’ll tell Dad!” yelled Tom’s sister, Pearl.
Slinky and Tom paid no attention. They were laughing too hard.
“Teacher’s com
ing!” Pearl shouted.
Slinky suddenly let go of the rope, and the swing went diving down, twisting and turning in every direction.
Finally, the torture machine came to a stop. Bonnie sat there, dazed and dizzy. When she lifted her head, there was no one in sight. Bonnie’s arms and legs were stinging. Deep lashes criss-crossed them even under the woollen stockings.
Bonnie stood up carefully. Then she wobbled over to where her jacket was still lying on the ground. At least it wasn’t ruined. If she’d ripped that jacket, Mum would be angry. And she couldn’t stand that right now.
She stumbled out of the schoolyard and slunk along the street. She prayed that she would get through the village without seeing any children at all. “Thank you, God,” she said as she crossed the bridge over the Indian River. It seemed no one, not even an adult, was outside this late in the afternoon.
It was nearly dusk by the time she got to the edge of her farm. She climbed over the rail fence and found the cows exactly where they should have been. Their low mooing sounds were comforting as they trudged to the top of the steep hill. Then, across the pasture below, a streak of gold and cream came out of nowhere.
“Boots! Boots!” Bonnie shouted. He must have been watching for her. Bonnie kneeled down in front of her dog and buried her bruised arms in his thick coat.
NINE: BULLIES BULLIED
“What kept you?” Dad growled, as Bonnie limped into the barnyard. The cows were mooing to be milked, but Dad did not seem to notice them. He was looking at Bonnie’s left ankle.
“What happened to your ankle?”
Bonnie looked down. Her left ankle was swollen up big. She remembered now the stinging pain when that ankle had hit the main branch of the maple tree. But all the way home, it had felt numb. Now the pain was coming back.
“I…I…” Bonnie slumped to the ground.
Dad reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders. Dad cupped his hand lightly on the right side of Bonnie’s face where the long lash mark had swelled. It went from ear to chin.
“Who did this?” he said quietly. “Tell me, Bonnie. What happened? I want to hear every detail. Don’t leave out anything.”
No Small Victory Page 7
