Pearce's last day

‘That is about as pointless as looking through the keyhole of a padlock.’ said Mr. Pearce, as he slammed his cane down on to my fingers, his old face growing red with rage. I pulled my hand away, the knuckles smarting from the force of the blow.

‘I know where you live.’ I mumbled under my breath.

I did know where he lived too, we all did. He lived in the new flats where the campsite used to be.

‘What was that boy?’ Pearce roared. ‘What did you say?’ spittle flew across the room as old bastard moved towards me.

I kept quiet, hoping the whirlwind would blow itself out. We all knew the old timer didn’t have the strength to stay in a rage for long.

‘I’m waiting’ he yelled.

Shit! He really wanted me to repeat what I had said.

He stared at me, his beady eyes on stalks, willing me to speak. But my lips were sealed, I wasn’t going to say anything. After what seemed like an age, the cranky old dinosaur started moving away, he got as far as his desk, picked up his dictionary, turned and in one easy movement that belied his age hurled it at me. It seemed to fly through the air in slow motion. I watched it come towards me frozen in my seat; it was going to hit me right between the eyes.

The crunch was sickening as the dictionary made contact. Poor Aaron’s nose had exploded; there was blood everywhere. My mate Deano had managed to push me out of the way just in time, but Aaron, unsighted behind me, had been right in the firing line. Aaron had to stay at home for a few days, we never saw Mr. Pearce again.