A Lesson?
"Jonathan." Came the smooth familiar voice from behind him.
It was 10.15pm at the university library and even though it was a Friday there was still a few people dotted about, getting head starts on reports, investigations, essays, projects and like. But as usual in a library it was eerily quiet, the air between the huge vaulted ceiling and the floor trapping any noise within it's dark depths. Within the great historic building little of the original features remained visible, all walls covered to a height of nine foot by Dickens, Chaucer, Newton, Shakespeare, Aristotle, Einstein and other dead guys that left their legacies and life's work in the form of words equations and ideas, which where picked at and prodded by students who couldn't hope of achieve half as much as any of them had. Beyond this nine foot barrier was the gloom of the night, which seeped in through the windows high above, unsightly electrical chandeliers hung but ten foot from the ground, the harsh glare of the florescent lighting reflecting of the polished surfaces of desks, the white background of some reference book on geology and the specs of the ever watchful librarian. Her specs glinting in any direction where she could sense trouble and there in seconds through the maze of book stands appearing suddenly, as you slip the accidentally torn page back in to the book with a mumbled apology then walk quickly in the other direction . Never running, you never run in the library.
Jack had a unique respect for libraries, this one in particular, a second home, a sanctuary. Only a long-term student could feel this about that particular library.
This was his last year.
This was the time he had to prove his worth.
Like his mum had been telling him for years the 'big bad world' is nothing compared with school life, and at this time, mere weeks before he would officially step out into it, it had already found him.
The big bad world had reeled his ugly head in the form of the man that stood behind him.
Carefully he closed the life's work of Newton and set it upon his textbooks. Then standing the bundle of papers tucked neatly under his arm he faced the real world, the big bad ugly part of it.
"Ford." he said evenly.
"Now now Jonathan, you do know my title don't you, I didn't go to the trouble of getting all those letters after my name just to have you forget about them, you should know your place boy."
Although the man was shorter than him he leered forward, looking up into the eyes of his underling, his student.
"Now let's try it again."
"Professor." He grumbled, his eyes growing dark with each passing moment.
For some reason, the library had gone deathly quiet, there was no one near, no frantic scratching of pencils, no click click of the new automated borrowing system, no glint of the librarians glasses, just the sound of their breathing, he felt sick at the thought of sharing the same air as him; they where alone.
"Better,' said the shorter man as though he was happy with himself, though in reality he couldn't care less, the boy was meaningless at least he would be. "Now, you know you can't stay here."
"The library doesn't close until 11."
"No boy, you're going home tomorrow."
"What?" he screamed. The sound of his voice echoed in the rafters travelling back down after a few more seconds, however the most unsettling thing was that once again there was a distinct lacking in the presence of glinting spectacles.
"You," he said with immeasurable distaste, "are not going graduate from any school in the country let alone this one."
"How can you do this to me, I've worked to hard to come this far to have you ..."
"O'Neill! Here's one of life's little lessons for you, working means absolutely nothing, you hear me nothing, what matters is character boy, second only to power, those with power work without working. You don't have either, I have both, I don't work and you work, and now you've lost the most important thing boy... purpose. You are redundant, you are of no use to anyone now; you have out stayed your welcome, and you're going home tomorrow."
"Listen I got my scholarship fair and square and I'm going to finish this thing! I am not going to let 5 years of my life go to waste just because you got power hungry!"
"Your scholarship is no longer valid, you failed to meet the agreed terms when you failed the drugs test on Friday." he said in a measured smooth voice with a smug smile.
"What drugs test? There was no drugs test?" he protested.
The small man smirked at the student's remarks, he still hadn't learned, like he said 5 years would be a waste if he didn't learn this one thing.
"Boy it doesn't matter what you say, you have no ... in your terms momentum... you are but a leaf flowing in the breeze, no leaf can change the course of a tornado, I am the tornado boy, I am the force that must be reckoned with, and no one has ever come close, and just like a tornado Jonathon your life will be broken in my wake, who knows maybe picking up the pieces will give you some character."
He reached forward laying his hand on the lanky form before him, then reaching down removing the pile of books from his now limp arms.
"See you round Jonathon."