Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to HiT Entertainment. All OCs belong to me.

Chapter 8

It was another week before my chickenpox spots had disappeared completely, but once they had, I was allowed to return to school. Unfortunately, I found that I had a lot to catch up on. At least I wasn't the only one who'd fallen behind. Out of all the students in my class, I was the last of those who'd been ill to return to school.

The morning I returned to school, Mr Davies made an important announcement. "Since most of you have been sick recently, I'm going to be contacting each of your parents, so we can discuss the best method to catch you up. For some of you, that might mean taking home extra homework, but for others it could mean staying back for extra lesson time after school."

I sighed, knowing that my parents would opt for me to take home extra homework.

Mr Davies continued speaking. "Now, take out your history books, please. Who can remember what we've been studying recently? Yes, Daniel?"

"The Norman Conquest."

"That's correct. Laura? What was the Norman Conquest about?"

"The Norman invasion of England."

"Excellent. Sam? Without looking at your book, do you know who was ruling England at the time of the Norman invasion?"

I hesitated. I knew that no answer was far better than giving a wrong answer. "No, sir."

Mr Davies smiled kindly. "That's okay. What about you, Amanda? Do you know?'

"Was it King Harold, sir?"

"Yes. He was also known as Harold Godwinson. Does anyone know what year the Norman Conquest occurred?"

Luke put up his hand. "1066, sir."

"Very good. Now, I'd like you all to open up your books to page twenty-six. And I'd like Allison to read the first paragraph for us, please."

I tried to pay attention to the reading, but because I had no interest in English history, I quickly became bored. And so, I started to make a paper aeroplane out of a scrap piece of paper from my writing book. I was just about to throw it, when Mr Davies snatched it out of my hands.

"That's enough of that, thank you, Sam. Now, read paragraph six for us, please."

With a heavy sigh, I scanned my book for paragraph six, and I started to read aloud. However, as soon as I'd finished, Mr Davies asked someone else to read, and so I quickly became bored again. This time, I folded my arms across my desk, and I lay my head down on top of them for a nap.

Mr Davies gently shook me awake a few minutes later. "Sam? You're not still sick, are you?"

"No, sir," I muttered. "I'm just bored." Since Mr Davies often went out of his way to help me, I wasn't afraid to admit to him when I was bored. Mr Davies frowned.

"You should be paying attention, since you've obviously never studied this subject," he admonished.

"But why can't we learn Welsh history instead of English history?" I protested.

"Because you can't, that's why. I decide what the lessons are going to be, not you. Everyone, take out your writing books, and write the numbers one to ten down the page. I'm going to give you a quick quiz on what we've just read."

I bit my bottom lip nervously. Drat it! If I'd known we'd be getting quizzed on this, I would've listened at the very least.

"First question. What was the date of the Norman Conquest?"

I hadn't heard the exact date, so I just wrote down the year, '1066'. I know I'm going to fail this…

…

By recess, I was feeling rather despondent. I had failed the quiz by two marks, and I knew that Mr Davies wasn't pleased with my efforts; or rather the lack thereof. Well, if I get put back down into the fourth grade, I only have myself to blame.

"It's not the end of the world, Sam," Luke said, trying to comfort me.

"Yeah, it was only one little quiz," Mark agreed.

"You don't understand! If my grades slip, I'll get put back down a grade. I'll be totally humiliated if that happens."

"Mr Davies won't be concerned about a little in-class quiz," Daniel pointed out. "It's your work overall that he's concerned about."

"I think you're over-reacting," Mark added. "Don't stress about it. You'll do better next time."

"I sure hope so," I muttered.

At that moment, a little girl's angry voice caught my attention. Turning, I saw two third-grade boys standing over a girl with long blonde hair. She appeared to be a little younger than them; most likely in the second grade.

"I said, leave me alone!" the girl exclaimed with frustration.

"Not until you give us your lunch money!" one of the boys retorted. He made a lunge for the girl's purse, which she was clutching in her hands.

The girl screamed as she desperately tried to cling onto her purse. The other boy pushed her roughly into a mud puddle on the ground, while the first boy ripped the purse out of her hands. Sobbing, the girl started to get up. The whole front of her dress was covered in mud, along with her face.

Both boys laughed cruelly. Then, the boy who'd pushed the girl seized her by her hair. He yanked it hard, dragging the girl to her feet. The poor girl screamed in agony.

"Oh, look! I've found a penny!*" the boy teased.

A deep rage had been slowly building inside me as I watched the exchange take place. "Hey!" I blurted out. I ran over to the bullies, vaulting neatly over a bench in the process. Then, I placed myself between the girl and the bully holding her purse. "Leave her alone!"

The boy seemed a little taken aback. Then he sneered. "And who's going to make me, shrimp?"

My friends gathered around behind me. "It's four against two," I pointed out. Then, I held out my hand for the girl's purse. Begrudgingly, the boy placed it in my hand. I nodded once. "If I ever catch you picking on anyone again, you're going to regret it."

The bully sneered again. "Yeah, right! What could you do?"

Before he could draw his next breath, I socked him in the jaw with my fist. The force knocked him clean off his feet, and he collapsed onto the ground.

"Does that answer your question?" I asked. My friends sniggered behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other bully run away towards the oval.

The first bully staggered to his feet, clutching his jaw. "I'm going to tell the teacher on you!"

I smirked. "I don't think you will. There are five witnesses, and you'll be the one who ends up being caned by the principal, not me."

The boy's eyes widened when he realised that I was right. Whimpering, he slunk away. I breathed a sigh of relief. Serves him right…

I turned to help the girl. Daniel and Luke had started trying to scrape the mud off her. "Are you okay?" I asked.

The girl nodded despite her tears. "Thanks for your help. And for rescuing my purse. It was my grandmother's. She gave it to me before she died last year. It's all I have left to remember her."

"In that case, I'll hang onto it for you for now. I'm sure you don't want to get mud all over it."

The girl nodded again. "My name's Penny."

"I'm Sam, and these are my friends, Mark, Luke and Daniel. Would you like us to take you to the admin office? I'm sure the nurse will be able to help you wash the mud off, and she might even be able to find some clean clothes for you."

Penny smiled. "Thanks. Oh! Your hand is bleeding!"

I looked at my right hand. Sure enough, blood was dripping from my knuckles. Wow! I must've punched that kid harder than I thought! Bending down, I wiped my hand on the grass. "It's nothing. Let's get you sorted out."

We'd just reached the admin office when the bell rang to end recess. By chance, Mr Davies walked past us while we stood waiting at the reception desk. He said nothing, but I could see from his expression that he'd guessed what had happened.

Once the school nurse had come to take care of Penny, I gave her Penny's purse to look after until Penny had been cleaned up. Then, my friends and I returned to our classroom. My hand had stopped bleeding by then, so I rinsed the dried blood off under a bubbler on our way back to the classroom.

"Sorry we're late back, sir," I apologised when we entered the classroom.

"That's okay, boys. I could see that you were helping that poor girl. Now, please sit down, and take out your science books."

…

Surprisingly, mum didn't even notice my cut knuckles until dinner time that evening. Charlie and I had just sat down at the table, when she saw the scabs.

"Sam! What on earth happened to your knuckles?"

I self-consciously hid my hand under the table. "Nothing, mum."

Mum grabbed hold of my hand, and she looked at it closely. "That's hardly nothing, Sam! You punched someone, didn't you?"

"He deserved it! He was bullying a girl and trying to steal her purse. I told him that if I caught him doing it again, he'd regret it."

"Then what happened?" Charlie asked.

"He called me a shrimp, so I punched him."

Granddad started applauding, which earned him a furious glare from mum. He ignored her. "Well done, Sam! It takes courage to stand up to bullies. You did the right thing."

"The right thing?" mum exclaimed. "He could've been seriously hurt! What if the bully had decided to fight back?"

"I had my friends with me, mum," I pointed out. "And granddad said that all bullies are cowards. They only pick on other people because it makes them feel better about themselves."

Mum cast granddad another furious glare. Granddad promptly held his evening newspaper up in front of his face.

"Tomos. I'm not happy about this," mum said. "I don't want my sons fighting."

"I'd hardly consider a punch fighting," dad interjected. "I hope you did it properly, Sam, just like I showed you."

"David!"

Uh, oh! Adult fight brewing… I glanced at Charlie. Judging by his expression, we were both thinking the same thing.

Within a minute, mum, dad and granddad had started their verbal argument. Not wanting to get caught up in it, Charlie and I picked up our dinner plates, and then we snuck outside to eat our dinner down on the beach.

It was a pleasant evening. The water was calm, and a light breeze was blowing. There was also a full moon that night, so we didn't need our torches. Charlie and I sat down in the sand, and we started eating.

"So, you fought off a bully?" Charlie began.

I nodded. "I probably didn't need to punch that boy, but he was asking for it. I hope Penny's okay now. How are things going for you at the Grammar school?"

"Not bad. I like my teacher, and I've made some new friends. By the way, what do you think of Bronwyn?"

I shrugged. "She's okay, I guess. Why?"

"Don't you think she's pretty?"

I nearly choked on my food. Charlie gave me a few slaps on my back until I'd stopped spluttering. "Pretty? Charlie! You're not falling in love with her, are you?"

"Why not? I'm almost thirteen. I'm old enough to start dating!"

"Ew! That's it! I'm going back inside!"

However, when I returned to the house, I found that the adults still arguing over the best parenting method. Sighing, I put my half-finished plate of food in the kitchen. Then, I pulled on a light jacket and I grabbed a torch.

I think I'll go for a walk. It's a nice night, and I don't have to go too far. The wishing well should be far enough. Hopefully, by the time I get back, they'll have finished arguing, and Charlie will have stopped being so soppy.

Once I was back outside, I turned on my torch, and I set off walking down the Newtown Road.

* Thank you, Hosty McGhosty, for letting me include that pun in my story.

Guest: Thank you for your kind words, Sam. I have been doing quite a bit of research into Welsh history and mythology, so I thought it would be interesting to include some in this story. If you thought the stone circle was creepy, you're going to really get spooked in the next chapter!

I actually included 3 references in that last chapter, and yes, they were all intentional. Sam getting stuck on a ledge was really just my way of showing that, as a child, he was adventurous and mischievous, which sometimes landed him in a spot of bother. As for the reference to 'Sheep on the Road', I figured that Sam must've learned that trick when he was a boy, long before he became a fireman. Finally, the stone circle appeared only once in the TV series, in the episode 'Deep Water'.

The chickenpox vaccine didn't become readily used by doctors until 1984. Since this story is currently set in 1977, the vaccine simply wasn't available. Back then, parents would do everything they could to ensure their children caught chickenpox. It was considered the best method of inoculating people against it.

I'm sorry you've been so sick. It's never fun. I hope you feel better soon. Good luck with your story ideas! Looking forward to reading them. And I'm now writing updates whenever I feel inspired to write them, rather than rushing them. So, I'm feeling much calmer and in control now.