"Class - time for free study," the teacher announced. "Get out your project folders."
The classroom grew noisy with the clatter of desks opening and shutting, and the excited chatter of children allowed a moment of freedom from the daily routine. The teacher allowed the noise to reach a crescendo before restoring order. "That's enough," he said. "Free study is meant to be a quiet time, so ... ." He let his sentence hang before raising a finger to his lips. "Ssh."
All around the classroom, heads bent over books and young minds concentrated on their tasks. Silence reigned, broken only by the scratching of pens and the fidgeting of young limbs.
Anastasia stared at the pages in her folder. She had planned her project: one on the Great Leaders of the Revolution - always capitalised, always spoken of in hushed tones. But she had been having trouble finding out the information she needed. The local library did not have it, and her parents had pleaded ignorance. However, Anastasia knew that she could find out what she needed to know from the class encyclopaedia. It had been there the last time the class had been allowed free study. Anastasia took a deep breath to quell her ten year-old nerves and stood up.
"Sir?" A few heads turned to look at her, but not the teacher's. "Sir?"
The teacher barely raised his eyes. "Yes, Anastasia. What is it?"
"I need to check something in the encyclopaedia, sir."
The teacher stood up and pulled a jingling keychain from his pocket. Then he went to the locked bookcase behind his desk and unlocked the glass-fronted doors. "Which volume?"
"'T', sir. Please."
the teacher extracted a thick, leather-bound volume from the bookcase and brought it to Anastasia's desk. "There you are."
"Thank you, sir."
Anastasia flicked through the pages of the encyclopaedia, searching for the entry she remembered. Tram, treaty, triangle, trout. She stopped. The page she wanted was missing. Carefully she ran her fingers along the space where the page should have been. There, in its place, was a razor-edged strip of paper just proud of the binding. "Sir?"
"What is it, Anastasia?"
"Somebody has taken a page from this book, sir."
The teacher walked down the rows of desks, stopping at Anastasia's. "Let me see. Here?" He picked up the encyclopaedia as if to examine it. "There is nothing wrong with this book."
"Sir!" Anastasia raised her voice in indignant protest. "I need the page to finish my project." She jabbed at her folder.
The teacher looked down at her workbook. Then, with a sudden violence, he grabbed a handful of pages from the folder and ripped them out. This done, the teacher turned away, ignoring Anastasia's shocked tears. "Put you projects away. There will be no more free study. We will have a test instead."
Desks banged and clattered as the class rose to their feet. Anastasia lowered her gaze to avoid the looks of hatred being sent her way.
