All Angel, No Wings

All Angel, No Wings (Ch. 2)

Two

I don't pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me; love is knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other person, love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of, love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into a room and smile at you.” – Source Unknown.

            Sammy Falkton glanced about in worry. The loud classroom had turned into a tomb of silence, all except for the teacher, who was taking attendance. Everyone was waiting for him to do it so they could make fun of him; everyone was waiting for him to give his oral report.

            “Samuel Falkton.” The teacher read off. Sammy raised his hand, bile rising in his throat. The teacher just shook his head dismissively, “No Sammy. You cannot go to the nurse again. Stop avoiding it and come up here. It’s time for your presentation.” When he said it like that, it made Sammy feel unprepared.

            He rose to his feet, paper loose in one hand, almost cemented to his side. Dragging his feet made the voyage longer, but Mr. BlueRose wasn’t having it. He motioned for Sammy to pick up the pace, and Sammy, being the good kid he was, decided to keep on shuffling. Eventually though, he reached the front.

            All eyes locked on him as someone whispered, “Fuckton.” Sammy cringed. That was a bad word. The boy that had spoken had no right to pick on Sammy, nor to curse. Mr. BlueRose still did nothing to stop it, just crossed his arms impatiently, waiting for Sammy to start.

            His palms began to sweat, drenching the paper still crammed in his hand. He trembled, a chill rolling down his spine. Where had that come from. “Well?” Mr. BlueRose sighed, pushing up the bridge of his glasses. Sammy opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. That was how it had always been; he never learned how to talk. Samuel David Falkton was a mute. His teachers knew this, yet Mr. BlueRose had a hatred for Sammy that went beyond bad student, as Sammy always did his work. Mr. BlueRose, and his stupid name, were just horrible. Especially to him.

            “Come on Samuel.” Mr. BlueRose crossed his arms in aggravation. “At least give us something, some sort of sound. What’s your favorite color, eh? Favorite food? Favorite place to be?” That last one was an easy one: not in front of the class.

            “Mr. B?” A petite looking young girl, a freshman, spoke from her seat. “Sam is kind of, you know, a mute? I don’t think it’s fair that you’re making him do this.”

            The teacher sneered, “And what gives you the right to speak on his behalf, young girl?”

            “I happen to be his sister from another mister, old man.” She fought. Sammy laughed silently, as if there were another way. He watched in silence as Mr. BlueRose’s face went from pale and pasty, to beat red, like a lobster. That caused some more silent laughter.

            “You!” The teacher pointed a finger in her face, “Have detention!”

            “Why?” She challenged. “Because I’m defending my poor, innocent brother? Well, that’ll sit well with the school board. And ‘me’ has a name. It’s Katrina.”

            Sammy begged Katrina to shut up with his big blue, almost white, eyes. She gave him a sympathetic glance back. And suddenly, he had the urge to throw up.

            A gag. Two gags. Three gags did it.  

            The vomit came up and out of his mouth before he could stop it. He bent over and clutched at his abdomen as the chunks of his early morning breakfast spewed out of his puny body. Everyone – Mr. BlueRose, Katrina – everyone stopped what they were doing to look on in shock at this young mute who was throwing up. He mentally groaned as another round came up and flowed out of his mouth. The colorful chunks flew everywhere – onto the white and black tiled floor, onto the kids forced to sit in the front of the class, onto Mr. BlueRose’s shirt, and all over Sammy’s beat up shoes.