CHAPTER FIVE
The morning lessons went by far too quickly for Hans and suddenly he was out in the yard, watching the other children enjoying their lunch break and waiting with dread for Thomas and his friends to come and find him as he knew they would. He sat alone for some time and would have had the opportunity to eat his lunch, only he had no appetite for it at all that day. Sure enough, the four boys appeared halfway through the break, hands in their pockets, looking casual and smiling. Hans got to his feet so as to feel at less of a disadvantage.
"Got our money, Lausenstrom?" Thomas asked.
"No."
"What did you say?" Thomas frowned.
"He said no," one of the other boys replied. "Where is it? You know what we said yesterday."
"My father caught me," admitted Hans.
Thomas laughed. "You got caught stealing? Ha!"
"You're pathetic," one of the other boys scoffed.
"Yeah, who's stupid enough to get caught? Hope you got thrashed for it!"
"Thing is, now we're going to have to punish you, since you haven't got our money."
"What shall we do, spank his backside? Bet that's what your father did, isn't it, Lausenstrom? Spanked you like the little baby you are."
"I think we ought to teach him to grow up." Thomas threw a punch suddenly; not a hard one, but his fist struck Hans in the jaw and made him stagger backwards against the fence. "Bet you don't even know how to fight, do you?"
The other boys laughed and one of them punched Hans in the side of the head, only hard enough to push him off balance, but it hurt none the less. He raised his hands to try to protect himself, causing all four boys to laugh louder. Two of them grabbed him by the arms and held him still while Thomas hit him hard in the stomach. Hans doubled over, gasping, unable to get his breath and trying not to be sick or cry and give them something else to taunt him about.
"Hey! What're y'all doin' to that kid?" a voice exclaimed suddenly.
The four bullies paused and turned to view the owner of the voice. Hans raised his head slowly, struggling to breathe. Behind Thomas stood a dark-haired boy, taller even than Lars and Leif although Hans knew he couldn't be older than ten because he was in the same class as himself. He sat at the back in the opposite corner to Hans.
"Mind your own business," Thomas said now.
"'Tis my business. I like seein' a good fight, but this ain't a fair match. Why don't ya pick on someone yer own size?"
"Why don't you go to hell?" retorted Thomas.
The tall boy responded by suddenly smashing his fist into Thomas' face, knocking the boy to the ground. Hans' mouth fell open and he took a step back as the two holding his arms let go and turned on the intruder. One of them was instantly punched twice with first one fist and then the other, dropping him to his knees. The remaining two began to back away at once.
"Where are you going, you cowards?" cried Thomas, scrambling to his feet, blood oozing from his split lip.
"You're the coward." The dark boy grabbed Thomas by the shoulder. "You only go for somebody half yer size if yer yella. Ya touch this kid again and ya'll get more than a split lip."
Much to Hans' surprise, Thomas and his three friends all retreated without a word. At that moment Miss Rivers appeared from the school building and took a quick look around the yard. Hans wondered if Thomas and the others would go and tell her what had happened, but they walked off in the other direction.
"Y'alright?"
Hans looked up at his rescuer. His dark shaggy hair looked as if it hadn't been cut in a year or two and he had startling bright turquoise eyes in a pale face.
"Yes. Thanks," he said.
"What's yer name? Lausenstrom, ain't it?"
"Yes. Hans."
"I'm Billy Jenkins."
"How old are you?" asked Hans, imagining he had to be ten at least, maybe even older despite being in the lower class.
"Eight." He grinned and revealed both his front teeth were missing. "My Ma says I must sleep with my feet in pig-shit to grow this much."
Hans giggled. "I'm six," he said. "Almost."
"Them twins in the other class yer brothers?" asked Billy.
"Yes, Lars and Leif."
"Why don't ya tell 'em what happened?"
"I'm in trouble at home," Hans sighed. "My father caught me stealing and my brothers found out so they're all mad at me right now."
"What about yer ma?"
"I don't have a mother; she died when I was born," Hans said.
"Sorry. Well, I ain't got a pa. It's always just been Ma and me."
"What happened to your…..pa?" asked Hans. "Did he die too?"
Billy shrugged. "Dunno. Ma don't even know who he is. She's a whore, see. She says he could be just about any fella in town."
"What's a whore?" asked Hans, eyes wide with shock now.
"She entertains fellas for money," Billy said matter-of-factly. "She always said she got unlucky one day when she got pregnant and the only lucky thing about it was the kid turned out to be me." He grinned. "Ya got any friends, Hans?"
"No." Hans shook his head.
"Now ya do." Billy stuck his hand out and after a moment's hesitation, Hans shook it and then turned reluctantly as the school bell rang.
"What're ya doin' after school?" Billy asked him as they headed towards the building.
"I have to stay behind for talking back to Miss Rivers."
"Oh, yeah, 'course." Billy shrugged. "Guess I'll catch ya tomorrow then. Ya wanna learn to fight?"
"Yes!" Hans said at once, thinking that if he could even learn to defend himself he wouldn't have to worry about being cornered by those bullies again.
Billy grinned again and Hans' eyes were drawn back to the huge gap in his teeth.
"Did you lose your teeth fighting?" he asked in awe.
"Nah. They was just my baby teeth, they was ready to fall out. See ya later."
By the time Hans arrived home that afternoon he had apparently been forgiven at least by his father for the previous night's transgressions. In Jorgen's view, Hans had been punished for his crime and it was now over. The twins didn't see it quite like that however and barely spoke to Hans for the next few days, even pointing out after church on Sunday that the commandment 'thou shalt not steal' no doubt meant that God was less than happy with Hans at that moment and he had better be on his best behaviour in the future. Unconcerned, Hans behaved himself until after Sunday lunch when the boys were allowed out to play or visit their friends; then he set off to meet Billy as arranged at school on Friday.
Billy met Hans at the halfway point between their two houses and then took the smaller boy back to his home. He and his mother lived in a tiny tumbledown two-room house on the edge of town.
"Is your mother home?" Hans asked as they approached the house.
"Yeah, she don't go to work till 'bout eight."
"At night?"
Billy grinned. "She works in the saloon around the corner and it don't get busy till then. She gets home in the night when I'm sleepin'. Most of em' have to live there, but they let her stay here 'cause of me." He shoved the door open and stepped straight into the tiny parlour with a stove in the corner. "Ma!"
The door leading into the other room opened and Billy's mother appeared. She was wearing a deep purple gown with a low neck and short sleeves, her black hair cascading to her waist, bright blue eyes emphasised by some kind of smokey colouring and lips painted red.
"Ma, this is Hans," Billy said.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mrs Jenkins," Hans said politely, eyes wide. He felt as if he had stepped into a whole new world.
"Pleased to meet you too," she said at once, eyes sparkling as she bent to shake Hans by the hand. "Just call me Miss Lillian, honey, I ain't married."
"Yes, Miss Lillian." Hans couldn't stop looking at her, with the rich colour of her dress and her beautiful hair all loose and silky and her graceful way of moving about. He thought she barely looked any older than one of their neighbour's daughters who had just had her eighteenth birthday.
Billy later revealed his mother was in fact twenty-four years old and was constantly searching for non-existent grey hairs and worrying that she was beginning to look old.
"Old?" Hans said in surprise. "My father's old – he's forty. Your mother looks young like a girl."
Billy grinned. "I'll tell her ya said that, it'll make her day."
Hans stayed at the Jenkins house for the rest of the afternoon, Billy teaching him how to throw punches at a cushion he held up at eye level. Hans pretended the cushion was Thomas' face and that every somewhat feeble punch drew blood.
"I'll never be any good at this," he sighed eventually, his arms aching.
"Yeah, ya will, ya just need to keep practisin'," Billy said. "Hey, ya wanna go get candy?"
"Umm….I haven't any money," Hans confessed uncomfortably.
"Thought ya was a rich kid," Billy smiled.
"I get an allowance on Fridays, but I had to give it to Lars and Leif so they wouldn't tell my Nana I stole," Hans said, feeling more ashamed than he had done at being caught in the beginning.
"Y'oughta tell 'em blackmail's as bad as stealin'," Billy said with a shrug. "I got money, Ma gives me an allowance an' all." He opened the door again and they headed out into the street. "What d'ya like best? Gum drops or taffy?"
"Gum drops," Hans said at once.
"Me too. Taffy's good for pullin' loose teeth out though!"
By the time Hans returned home the cook was in the process of laying out supper, a light meal of sandwiches and cakes usually eaten in the evening after the heavy Sunday lunch. Full of gum drops, Hans didn't have much of an appetite, but ate anyway rather than admit how much sugar he had eaten. His father always restricted the amount of candy he and his brothers were allowed, saying it would rot their teeth.
"So, who's your new friend?" Jorgen asked as they all sat at the table.
"His name's Billy Jenkins. He's eight," Hans said. Lars and Leif looked at each other, but said nothing.
"Jenkins. I don't think I know that family," Jorgen mused.
"His mother's a…" Hans paused, somehow aware that the word 'whore' wasn't one it would be wise to use in front of his father. "….on her own," he finished. "Billy doesn't talk about his father, I think he must have died or something." A little white lie won't matter, he thought.
Lars and Leif exchanged glances at this point and then looked at Hans, eyebrows raised. He hadn't been sure if they knew anything about Billy or not, but apparently they did. He stared back at them and much to his surprise, neither one said anything.
"Oh. Well, I'm glad you're finally settling in at school," Jorgen said. "Perhaps you can invite Billy for supper one Saturday. Just make sure you put as much effort into your work as you do in making friends."
"Yes, Father."
Jorgen said nothing more on the subject, but Lars and Leif did after supper when the three boys were upstairs getting ready for bed.
"Hans, Billy Jenkins isn't the sort of boy you should be making friends with," Lars said.
"Father doesn't know who he is, but we do," added Leif. "His mother's….not very proper."
"I know what his mother is, she's a whore," said Hans.
Both twins looked equally shocked and Hans couldn't help giggling at their expressions which made them look exactly like their father.
"You're too young to know words like that," Lars said. "We only know it because some of the boys in our class gossip about Mrs Jenkins."
"Miss Lillian," said Hans. "She ain't married."
"Hans! Don't say 'ain't'. Father will go mad," Leif told him.
Hans shrugged. "He goes mad about everything."
"He'll have good reason to when he finds out your friend is the roughest boy in school," said Lars.
"Well, I don't care, I like him," Hans said defiantly. "He's my friend, whatever you say."
"Please yourself," said Leif. "You'll know about it when Father hears about him. He'll think you're good for nothing, just like Billy Jenkins."
"He probably thinks that anyway since you stole from him," added Lars.
"Billy says blackmailing is as bad as stealing," said Hans.
"What do you know about blackmail?" Lars said in surprise.
"Only that it's bad and you're doing it, so if you tell Nana I stole, I'll tell her you did that."
"Why, you little…!" Leif grabbed Hans angrily by the shoulders and shook him hard. "Do you want a slap?"
"Let go!" exclaimed Hans.
"Be quiet!" Leif replied, shaking Hans more vigorously. Hans did the only thing he could think of, which was to make a fist and jab it upwards where it met Leif's chin, not particularly hard, but enough to make the older boy let go and step back in shock.
"You hit me," he gasped.
Hans bit his lip, thinking he probably shouldn't have done that, but Leif shaking him had made his teeth rattle and the first idea that came to him was to do what Billy had been teaching him all afternoon.
"Sorry, Leif," he said.
Lars grinned suddenly. "Maybe you're not such a baby after all," he said.
"No, you're not. That hurt," said Leif. "Just don't hit us, alright? Save it for people who really upset you."
Hans smiled. "Like Thomas."
"Was it you who hit him? He had a split lip," Lars said in disbelief.
"No, that was Billy. It'll be me next time," boasted Hans, thinking that at the grand old age of almost six he could take care of himself.