CBloom2: Thank you for the review.
sweet - as - honey: I originally wanted to do something to remember my granddad, as it's coming up to the 1st anniversary of his death (in a month) but then, I ended up turning it to Ethan, I suppose, I couldn't get the words out to convey my feelings. I'm glad you thought Cal was a good big brother, I didn't think he would be that heartless to leave his "Nibbles" to grieve for Matilda alone. Thank you for the review and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
The Secret Life Of Casualty
Chapter 113.
Young Ethan usually looked forward to school, but as he packed his school bag one Sunday night, his stomach was in knots and he knew the reason why. He took off his glasses and put them on his bedside table, which also contained a picture of him and his mum. He smiled at the picture, before reaching over and turning off his lamp.
Ethan squinted as he saw the early morning light come in through his curtains. He sat up, stretched and fumbled for his glasses. He put them on his face and then took the covers off him and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He headed to the wardrobe and got out his uniform and put it on. He headed down the stairs and headed in to the kitchen.
"Morning Ethan "
"Morning mum " He smiled, as she kissed his cheek.
Ethan's mum got up and poured some cereal in to a bowl for him. Ethan swung his legs under the table as his mum put a bowl in front of him. He just stared at his food.
Have a good day, Ethan " his mum told him.
"I will " Ethan slid on a fake smile, for his mum as he left the kitchen, but it slid as soon as he was out the house. He started walking down the street and kicking (uncharastically) things that got in his way.
As, he approached the school gates, he hoped that his bullies hadn't seen him, but unfortunately, for him, they had clocked him. Ethan took a deep breath and walked inside.
Micheal pushed Ethan in the playground, Cal seen and gritted his teeth as he saw Ethan fall. That had got to hurt, but it turned out that Josh or Michael weren't finished with him. They each took it in turns to kick him.
Ethan curled up, trying to protect himself.
Cal ran over. "Stop it"
Cal helped him up.
"You should report them, Ethan " Cal told him.
Ethan sniffed. "I don't want too "
Cal followed Ethan in to the bathroom, to see Ethan winching at his bruises.
"They look painful. "
"They are fine " Ethan lied, trying to be brave.
The bell rang for the end of lunch time and Ethan pulled his shirt and jumper down, before picking up his bag and going to his next lesson.
Head - teacher Constance Beauchamp was in her office, on her laptop, looking at some emails when there was a knock at the door.
"Boys, you should be in lesson " She barked at them.
"We know, Miss Beauchamp, but we needed to tell you something "
Connie raised an eyebrow.
"Cal Knight has been bullying Ethan " The boys smirked to each other.
Cal was in Science, he had no interest in what the teacher was telling him and was tempted to flick on the flames on the Bunsen burners.
There was a knock at the door and a boy, come up to the desk and handed the teacher a note.
Mr Day, his teacher unfolded the note and read it to himself.
"Cal,"
Cal's head whipped up as the teacher continued to read from the note "Miss Beauchamp wants to see you "
Cal knocked on the door, confused as to why Connie wanted to see him.
"Come in " Connie said.
Cal pushed on the door handle.
"Ah, Caleb "
"You wanted to see me?"
"I hear a rumour that you've been bullying Ethan "
"What!" Cal yelled. "I haven't "
"Well, who has then?" Connie asked.
"I don't know " Cal lied.
"Please leave my office "
Full of anger, Cal spotted Josh and Michael. Walking over to them, Josh smirked and nudged Michael, as they both laughed.
"Oh, look who it is Mike "
"The one who is friends with geeky Ethan!" Mike laughed.
"Shut it!" Cal glared at them both and then punched them, he walked away nursing a bruised hand, unaware that Connie was watching him.
"Caleb Knight, my office now!"
Cal gulped, he only got called Caleb when he was in trouble with his teachers.
He followed Connie to her office. Being called in twice was bad enough, but Cal knew a third trip would mean a phone call home to his mum.
"This is so unfair " Cal complained.
"Caleb, you know the rules, any assault to any students, must be punished "
"Whatever " Cal sighed.
Connie clicked the mouse on her computer and began to type. "Cal, I'm suspending you for the week. You will wait here until a parent or guardian can come to collect you"
"Mum's at work and my waste of a space father isn't on the scene " Cal said.
Connie sighed, she knew that she should wait until a parent got there but she knew Cal was a sensible boy and he wouldn't hang around.
Cal got off the chair and left the office, dragging his feet and exited school grounds.
"Cal?" Matilda said, surprised as she opened the door to her son. "What are you doing here?"
"I feel sick" Cal said.
Matilda put a hand on her son's forehead. "You don't feel warm "
Cal wrapped an arm around his waist and made a retching noise.
"Bed" Matilda said, pointing to the stairs. "I'll bring you a glass of water "
Cal nodded and headed up the stairs to his room. He took off his tie and undid the top of his first two buttons. He reached for his remote control and switched on the TV while he waited for Matilda.
Matilda walked in to her son's room. "Here you go, one glass of water and some paracetamol " She told him, placing them down.
"Thanks" Said Cal. "Mum?" He added as she walked towards the door.
"Yes?"
"You were right, I feel fine" He told her.
"Caleb!" Matilda snapped.
"I was suspended" Cal muttered.
"Why?" She shouted.
"Because I punched Josh and Michael; two boys who are bullying Ethan "
Matilda sighed. She knew that when Cal got angry, but couldn't find the words to convey that anger, he used his fists.
Cal looked at her.
"Oh, Cal " Matilda sighed. She hugged her son, proud of him for standing for his friend, but disappointed that he had lied to her.
Ethan knocked on the front door of Cal's house and then waited patiently for someone to answer.
"Hello, Ethan, dear " Smiled Matilda.
"Hello, Mrs Knight" Replied Ethan. "Is Caleb in?"
"He is, " Matilda confirmed with a nod.
"I brought him a book and some chocolate " He said, as he got them out of his bag and passed them to Matilda.
That's very nice of you dear, " Said Matilda as Ethan walked in to the house. "Ethan?"
"Yes?" Ethan asked.
"Cal isn't ill " Matilda told him.
"What?" Ethan asked, he was angry, why had his friend lied to him?
"He was suspended for punching the boys that had bullied you "
"Oh, " Ethan bowed his head, feeling like it was his fault.
Matilda reached out and rubbed his shoulder. "It's not your fault. "
"It is, "
"Ethan, I promise you, it's not. You can go and see him if you want "
"Yes, I will "
"What's wrong?" Matilda asked.
"It's OK " Ethan smiled as he left the kitchen. He started walking up the stairs.
Ethan knocked on Cal's bedroom door, he didn't want to be rude and just barge in.
"Come in" Cal called, he was lying back on his bed, hands behind his head.
"Hi Cal " Ethan said, walking in to the bedroom.
"Hi " Cal replied.
"You ok?" Ethan asked.
"Yeah" Cal replied. "Are you?"
"I'm fine" Ethan replied.
"Good. Do you want to play on the x- box?"
"Fine" Ethan smiled, as he watched Cal set the machine up.
They played for hours until Ethan's father, Calvin, came to collect him.
Matilda knocked on Cal's door. Cal said nothing, so Matilda went in.
"Ethan, brought you these " Smiled Matilda as she placed them on the bed.
Cal looked at them: It was a Hearsley's chocolate bar and a book. He looked at the title, the book was called "Treasure Island "
Cal reached for his phone and selected a new text.
Ethan was sat at his desk when his phone went out. He reached out to pick it up, when he pulled his hand back, because he was scared that it was Michael and Josh. But then he told himself to stop being silly and reached for the phone. He put in his password and went to his messages.
To: Ethan.
Sender: Cal.
"Thanks for the chocolate and book "
Ethan smiled as he replied.
To: Cal
Sender: Ethan.
"Your welcome, Cal "
Cal looked at his watch, it was Wednesday night and he usually had rugby practice but it had been cancelled. Instead, he reached for the book, got comfy and opened the book and began reading chapter 1.
The Old Sea Dog at the Adminial Benbow"
"I remember him as if were yesterday, plodding along to the inn door, his sea - chest following behind him in a hand - barrow; a tall, strong, heavy, nut - brown man; his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulders of his soiled blue coat; his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails; and the sabre cut across one cheek, a dirty livid white. I remember him looking around the cove and whistling to himself as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sing - song that he sang so often afterwards. "
"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest - Yo- ho- ho- ho, and a bottle of rum!"
"in the high, old tottering voice that seemed to have been tuned and broken at the capstan bars. Then, he rapped on the doors. With a bit of stick like a handspike that he carried, and when my father appeared, called roughly for a glass of rum. This, when it was brought to him, he drank slowly, like a connoisseur, lingering on the taste, and still looking about him at the cliffs and up at our signboard.
'This is a handy cove,' says he, at length; 'and a pleas ant sittyated grog-shop. Much company, mate?'
My father told him no, very little company, the more was the pity.
'Well, then,' said he, 'this is the berth for me. Here you, matey,' he cried to the man who trundled the barrow; 'bring up alongside and help up my chest. I'll stay here a bit,' he continued. 'I'm a plain man; rum and bacon and eggs is what I want, and that head up there for to watch ships off. What you mought call me? You mought call me captain. Oh, I see what you're at – there;' and he threw down three or four gold pieces on the threshold. 'You can tell me when I've worked through that,' says he, looking as fierce as a commander.
And, indeed, bad as his clothes were, and coarsely as he spoke, he had none of the appearance of a man who sailed before the mast; but seemed like a mate or skipper, accustomed to be obeyed or to strike. The man who came with the barrow told us the mail had set him down the morning before at the 'Royal George;' that he had inquired what inns there were along the coast, and hear ing ours well spoken of, I suppose, and described as lonely, had chosen it from the others for his place of residence. And that was all we could learn of our guest.
He was a very silent man by custom. All day he hung round the cove, or upon the cliffs, with a brass telescope; all evening he sat in a corner of the parlour next the fire, and drank rum and water very strong. Mostly he would not speak when spoken to; only look up sudden and fierce, and blow through his nose like a fog-horn; and we and the people who came about our house soon learned to let him be. Every day, when he came back from his stroll, he would ask if any seafaring men had gone by along the road? At first we thought it was the want of company of his own kind that made him ask this question; but at last we began to see he was desirous to avoid them. When a seaman put up at the 'Admiral Benbow' (as now and then some did, making by the coast road for Bristol), he would look in at him through the curtained door before he entered the parlour; and he was always sure to be as silent as a mouse when any such was present. For me, at least, there was no secret about the matter; for I was, in a way, a sharer in his alarms. He had taken me aside one day, and promised me a silver fourpenny on the first of every month if I would only keep my 'weather-eye open for a seafaring man with one leg,' and let him know the moment he appeared. Often enough, when the first of the month came round, and I applied to him for my wage, he would only blow through his nose at me, and stare me down; but before the week was out he was sure to think better of it, bring me my fourpenny piece, and repeat his orders to look out for 'the seafaring man with one leg.'
How that personage haunted my dreams, I need scarcely tell you. On stormy nights, when the wind shook the four corners of the house, and the surf roared along the cove and up the cliffs, I would see him in a thousand forms, and with a thousand diabolical expressions. Now the leg would be cut off at the knee, now at the hip; now he was a monstrous kind of a creature who had never had but the one leg, and that in the middle of his body. To see him leap and run and pursue me over hedge and ditch was the worst of nightmares. And altogether I paid pretty dear for my monthly fourpenny piece, in the shape of these abominable fancies.
But though I was so terrified by the idea of the sea faring man with one leg, I was far less afraid of the captain himself than anybody else who knew him. There were nights when he took a deal more rum and water than his head would carry; and then he would sometimes sit and sing his wicked, old, wild sea-songs, minding nobody; but sometimes he would call for glasses round, and force all the trembling company to listen to his stories or bear a chorus to his singing. Often I have heard the house shak ing with 'Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum;' all the neighbours joining in for dear life, with the fear of death upon them, and each singing louder than the other, to avoid remark. For in these fits he was the most over-riding companion ever known; he would slap his hand on the table for silence all round; he would fly up in a passion of anger at a ques tion, or sometimes because none was put, and so he judged the company was not following his story. Nor would he allow any one to leave the inn till he had drunk himself sleepy and reeled off to bed.
His stories were what frightened people worst of all. Dreadful stories they were; about hanging, and walking the plank, and storms at sea, and the Dry Tortugas, and wild deeds and places on the Spanish Main. By his own account he must have lived his life among some of the wickedest men that God ever allowed upon the sea; and the language in which he told these stories shocked our plain country people almost as much as the crimes that he described. My father was always saying the inn would be ruined, for people would soon cease coming there to be tyrannised over and put down, and sent shivering to their beds; but I really believe his presence did us good. People were frightened at the time, but on looking back they rather liked it; it was a fine excitement in a quiet country life; and there was even a party of the younger men who pretended to admire him, calling him a 'true sea-dog,' and a 'real old salt,' and such like names, and saying there was the sort of man that made England terrible at sea.
In one way, indeed, he bade fair to ruin us; for he kept on staying week after week, and at last month after month, so that all the money had been long exhausted, and still my father never plucked up the heart to insist on having more. If ever he mentioned it, the captain blew through his nose so loudly, that you might say he roared, and stared my poor father out of the room. I have seen him wringing his hands after such a rebuff, and I am sure the annoyance and the terror he lived in must have greatly hastened his early and unhappy death.
All the time he lived with us the captain made no change whatever in his dress but to buy some stockings from a hawker. One of the cocks of his hat having fallen down, he let it hang from that day forth, though it was a great annoyance when it blew. I remember the appear ance of his coat, which he patched himself up-stairs in his room, and which, before the end, was nothing but patches. He never wrote or received a letter, and he never spoke with any but the neighbours, and with these, for the most part, only when drunk on rum. The great sea-chest none of us had ever seen open.
He was only once crossed, and that was towards the end, when my poor father was far gone in a decline that took him off. Dr Livesey came late one afternoon to see the patient, took a bit of dinner from my mother, and went into the parlour to smoke a pipe until his horse should come down from the hamlet, for we had no stabling at the old 'Benbow.' I followed him in, and I remember observing the contrast the neat, bright doctor, with his powder as white as snow, and his bright, black eyes and pleasant manners, made with the coltish coun try folk, and above all, with that filthy, heavy, bleared scarecrow of a pirate of ours, sitting far gone in rum, with his arms on the table. Suddenly he – the captain, that is – began to pipe up his eternal song: –
'Fifteen men on the dead man's chest –
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest –
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!'
At first I had supposed 'the dead man's chest' to be that identical big box of his up-stairs in the front room, and the thought had been mingled in my nightmares with that of the one-legged seafaring man. But by this time we had all long ceased to pay any particular notice to the song; it was new, that night, to nobody but Dr Livesey, and on him I observed it did not produce an agreeable effect, for he looked up for a moment quite angrily before he went on with his talk to old Taylor, the gardener, on a new cure for the rheumatics. In the meantime, the captain gradually brightened up at his own music, and at last flapped his hand upon the table before him in a way we all knew to mean – silence. The voices stopped at once, all but Dr Livesey's; he went on as before, speak ing clear and kind, and drawing briskly at his pipe between every word or two. The captain glared at him for a while, flapped his hand again, glared still harder, and at last broke out with a villainous, low oath: 'Silence, there, between decks!'
'Were you addressing me, sir?' says the doctor; and when the ruffian had told him, with another oath, that this was so, 'I have only one thing to say to you, sir,' replies the doctor, 'that if you keep on drinking rum, the world will soon be quit of a very dirty scoundrel!'
The old fellow's fury was awful. He sprang to his feet, drew and opened a sailor's clasp-knife, and, balancing it open on the palm of his hand, threatened to pin the doctor to the wall.
The doctor never so much as moved. He spoke to him, as before, over his shoulder, and in the same tone of voice; rather high, so that all the room might hear, but perfectly calm and steady: –
'If you do not put that knife this instant in your pocket, I promise, upon my honour, you shall hang at the next assizes.'
Then followed a battle of looks between them; but the captain soon knuckled under, put up his weapon, and resumed his seat, grumbling like a beaten dog.
'And now, sir,' continued the doctor, 'since I now know there's such a fellow in my district, you may count I'll have an eye upon you day and night. I'm not a doctor only; I'm a magistrate; and if I catch a breath of complaint against you, if it's only for a piece of incivility like to-night's, I'll take effectual means to have you hunted down and routed out of this. Let that suffice.'
Soon after Dr Livesey's horse came to the door, and he rode away; but the captain held his peace that evening, and for many evenings to come."
When, Cal come to end, of the book, he closed it and put it on the side.
"Come in" Connie said, the next morning when there was a knock at the door.
The door opened.
"Ethan, what can I do for you?" Connie asked.
"Um, " Ethan mumbled staring at the floor.
"What is it, Ethan?" Connie snapped, she knew Ethan wasn't a time waster but she was very busy.
"Cal was only protecting me "
"Ethan" Connie explained, more gently. "I understand that he was protecting you, but Cal needs to know that he can't go around punching other students "
"OK" Said Ethan.
Connie considered it. But considering he was protecting a friend, it'll be reduced to two days " Connie told him.
Ethan simply nodded.
"Oh, and Ethan, it was very brave of you to come and tell me the truth "
Ethan blushed as he left the office.
Connie then called in Micheal and Josh.
"I believe that it was you too that have been bullying Ethan " Stated Connie.
"You are being suspended for two weeks "
Cal was back to school, the following Monday. As, he approached the gates, he saw Ethan, he walked through the gates and walked over to his friend. He headed
"Do you like the book?" Ethan asked.
"Yeah " Cal said.
"Good, I thought you would " Ethan smiled, the two lapsed in to silence.
"And I'll try not to paunch anyone else!" Cal laughed. Ethan laughed with him as they headed to their next lesson, arms around each other.
"Ethan?" Cal asked.
"Yeah?"
"I'll always be here for you " Cal said.
Ethan blushed as he replied. "Thanks Cal "
"Welcome mate " Cal grinned.
Thanks for reading, really enjoyed writing it.
I don't own the book, I just googled the name of it and I copied the extract. Sorry, if you aren't allowed to do that.
