Jack Staples and the Ring of Time (3 page)

Chapter 4

BULLIES IN TRAINING

Two years and twenty-one days earlier

At the age of nine, Arthur Greaves was slightly rounder than the other boys his age. When he mentioned this to his parents, his father laughed and told him, “It’s just baby fat, my boy; it’ll go away soon.” But Arthur wasn’t so sure.

He had only just moved to Ballylesson, which was a seven-hour’s ride from where he used to live in Droylldom. He arrived early for his first day of school so he could be sure to introduce himself to his new teacher, Mrs. Dumphry. Though he’d only been in Ballylesson a few days, he’d already heard at least twenty stories about her.

“She’s the oldest woman in Ireland,” a neighbor boy told him.

“She’s traveled to every country,” the boy’s older sister said.

Another day Arthur had met a boy at the butcher shop. “She’s the oldest woman in the world,” the boy said, though Arthur wasn’t sure the boy could be trusted because he was at least two years younger.

The morning Arthur walked into the schoolhouse, he didn’t know what to expect. It was pouring rain, and he was soaked when he finally made it inside. From the moment he walked in, he forgot all about Mrs. Dumphry. The schoolhouse was enormous—much bigger than his previous school. His jaw dropped at the number of chairs.

Sixteen students in one school! He’d never dreamed of a school so big. His last school in Droylldom had only five students. As he walked farther in, Arthur spotted Mrs. Dumphry—at least he thought it was her.

An old woman sat in a rocking chair facing the window. Her hair was wiry and gray and held at the back of her head in a large bun. He guessed that if she were to let it down, it would nearly touch the floor.

Arthur walked cautiously to the side of the rocking chair. His parents had taught him not to sneak up on people, especially if they were old, and Mrs. Dumphry was definitely the oldest woman he’d ever seen. Her eyes were sunken deep into her face, and her hands were so wrinkled he couldn’t tell the wrinkles apart from the knuckles.

At first Arthur thought she was sleeping. Her head was bent to her chest, and her knobby hands rested on the armrests. Yet as he watched, he was horrified to see that she was completely unmoving.
She’s not breathing
, he thought with alarm. “Oh no,” he whispered, wondering if the old woman was dead.

He coughed, partially to be polite, partially out of fear. “Hello, ma’am. My name is Arthur Greaves, and today is my first day at your school,” he said. When he finished, he stood very still and watched for any sign of life.

Arthur stepped closer and spoke a little louder. “It is very good to be here. My family moved recently from Droylldom, and I am pleased to meet you.” The last word came out in a squeak of fear. Arthur was sure of it—Mrs. Dumphry wasn’t breathing.

He had never seen a dead person before, but he supposed if someone were to die of old age, it would be this woman. Taking one more fearful step forward, he decided to touch the poor woman on the shoulder, just to be sure. He reached out with one finger extended and shaking terribly.

“Mrs. Dumphry,” Arthur whispered fearfully. “Are you …” Bringing his face close to hers, he searched for any sign of life. “Are you …”

As his finger touched her shoulder, Mrs. Dumphry’s hand darted out and grabbed Arthur by the arm.

“Boo!” she said with a grin.

Arthur screamed and tried to run, but she held him in an iron grip. She leaned in, bringing her face close to his. “I’ll get you, Arthur Greaves. I’ll get you yet!”

Arthur was as pale as a freshly painted white fence. His heart was in his throat, and he couldn’t move a muscle. Mrs. Dumphry burst into uncontrollable laughter, slapping her knee, then holding her stomach to keep from laughing too hard.

“Gets ’em every time!” she cackled. “Every time.”

She stood and walked to the blackboard. After grabbing a piece of chalk, she wrote out the words
Mrs. Dumphry
.

“My name is Mrs. Dumphry,” she said in a voice that was surprisingly youthful. “I have been teaching here for longer than you can imagine, and I will be teaching here when your children’s children are old enough to go to school.”

Arthur hadn’t moved, and no color had returned to his cheeks.

“The lesson you just learned is of the utmost importance. You must never judge a scroll by its parchment,” she said with a look of glee. “I can hold my breath for five minutes and still run faster than any woman I know.” Mrs. Dumphry’s eyes glowed with a fierce pride. “And though I am old, I am young in here”—she pointed to her head—“and in here”—she thumped her chest over her heart.

As Mrs. Dumphry danced a little jig, Arthur sat down at an empty desk, thankful he hadn’t peed his pants.

A few minutes later the rest of the students began to arrive. Arthur had been assigned the only empty seat in the classroom. It was at the very back, and it took him only a minute to realize why the seat had remained empty. A cruel boy named Jonty Dobson sat next to him, and from the moment he sat down, Jonty started teasing Arthur and calling him all sorts of names.

“Hey, little piggy, who let you out of your pen?” Jonty whispered.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Oinker! I don’t know if we’ve been properly introduced,” Jonty whispered. “You can call me the big, bad wolf.” Jonty’s grin had wickedness in it.

When Arthur finally spoke, his voice was shaking. “I’m not little piggy. My name is Arthur Greaves.”

“You are a little piggy!” Jonty said. “And I am going to have fun with you this year.”

“My father tells me that I am not actually fat, you know. He says it is just that some of my baby fat is refusing to go away.”

Jonty’s eyes widened in surprise as a great guffaw of laughter erupted. “Baby fat! That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Jonty Dobson!” Mrs. Dumphry’s voice was stern. “You are worse than your father’s father was. You will stay after class for a one-hour detention.”

Jonty looked properly scolded as he lowered his eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he stammered, but the look he gave Arthur was one of pure murder.

When it was time for recess, Arthur stood and quickly walked out to the yard. He very deliberately did not look at Jonty. Although it was no longer raining, thick pools of mud covered the schoolyard. Once outside, Arthur began looking for anyone who might be willing to talk to him. Yet wherever he looked, no one seemed the slightest bit interested.

He decided he had better walk back inside and stay near Mrs. Dumphry. He knew it would be a bad idea to meet Jonty out in the yard. Yet just as he was about to enter the schoolhouse, out walked Jonty Dobson.

“Where are you going, little piggy?” he chided. “I don’t remember saying you could leave.”

Arthur stumbled back. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to get you in trouble,” he stammered. “I’ll tell Mrs. Dumphry it was my fault, I’ll tell her—” Before he could say another word, Jonty shoved him hard.

Arthur fell flat on his back and disappeared completely into the middle of a large puddle of mud. When he sat up, murky water cascaded off him. Jonty laughed so hard that he fell to his knees and began hitting the ground with his fist. “Little piggy is taking a mud bath!” he squealed, sounding somewhat like a pig himself.

Horrified, Arthur looked around to see all of the other children watching, and some were even laughing. As he began to cry, Jonty rolled on the muddy ground, laughing all the harder.

“That’s not funny,” said a slim boy who had thick, bushy hair and was holding a large book to his chest. “You shouldn’t push people or make fun of them like that.”

Arthur couldn’t believe it. This boy didn’t even know his name, yet here he was, standing up to Jonty Dobson, the meanest bully Arthur had ever met. The schoolyard quieted as everyone turned to watch. Even Jonty stopped laughing as he stood and faced the boy.

“What do you care? Is little piggy your girlfriend or something?” Jonty was a head taller than the slim boy with the book.

“I just think it’s not very nice, that’s all.” The boy took a wary step back.

Behind Jonty, Arthur was trying to stand while wiping the mud from his face. Offering a wicked smile, Jonty turned, set his foot against Arthur’s backside, and kicked, sending him into the mud yet again—this time flat on his face.

“Aye, little piggy, I don’t remember saying you could get up.”

Just then a large book slammed into Jonty’s back. The slim boy had charged the bully and whacked him with his book. Unfortunately for the boy, he wasn’t nearly as strong as Jonty, who was at least two years older. Without a second thought, Jonty punched the boy hard in the stomach and threw him on top of Arthur.

“Look at that! Little piggy does have a girlfriend!” Jonty snorted. A few of the boys laughed, although most just watched nervously, hoping he wouldn’t pick on them next. Without another word Jonty turned and walked away with a trail of young bullies-in-training at his heels.

The slim boy groaned as he crawled off of Arthur and wiped the mud from his eyes. Arthur sat and again spit out a mouthful of mud. The boy quickly grabbed his book from the puddle and tried to wipe the mud off of the cover, which only made it muddier. After a moment, he sighed, set the book on his lap, and stuck out his hand.

“I’m Jack Staples. I’m assuming your name’s not ‘little piggy’?”

Two years and twenty-one days later

“Children! Come inside, and don’t dally. A dallier today, a sluggard tomorrow,” Mrs. Dumphry said as she marched inside the schoolhouse.

Although he still thought Mrs. Dumphry far too old to be alive, Arthur was constantly impressed by how quickly she moved. She was a living legend. No one knew her age, but she had taught in this schoolhouse for as long as anyone in town could remember.

Today had been a good day for Arthur so far. The good days just so happened to coincide with the days Jonty Dobson chose not to come to school. Had Jonty been there, Arthur would have remained inside, sitting at his desk for the entire day.

As he walked into the schoolhouse after lunch, Arthur knew something was wrong. Standing at the front of the class were Minister McCarty and Doctor Falvey. Both men wore somber looks, and the minister was shifting nervously, crumpling his hat in his hands. Mrs. Dumphry sat at her desk watching the men.

“Take your seats, children. Hurry up now,” Mrs. Dumphry said in her high voice. “These two boys have something they would like to share with the class.”

Doctor Falvey glanced at Mrs. Dumphry irritably. “We aren’t boys anymore. I graduated twenty-eight years ago, and—”

Slam
. Mrs. Dumphry’s hand crashed down on her desk. Doctor Falvey jumped, and Minister McCarty let out a small squeal of fear.

“You know better than that, Patrick Falvey. You may address me as Mrs. Dumphry. Or would you like to stay after class for detention?”

Every student watched wide-eyed as the doctor opened his mouth angrily, then, seeing the look in Mrs. Dumphry’s eyes, turned beet red and nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, shifting uncomfortably.

After a moment Mrs. Dumphry nodded. “As I was saying,” she continued, “these boys have something they wish to share with you.”

With a cautious look at Mrs. Dumphry, Minister McCarty stepped forward. “Just a few hours ago, something was found down by the river.”

Arthur could tell the minister wasn’t comfortable with the subject.

“At least three farmers have had livestock go missing over the past few days. At first they thought the animals had just wandered off. But early this morning, while Andy McGibbons was walking through the forest …” The minister paused, paling slightly. “Well,” he said, as he looked at the ground, “poor young Andrew found the missing animals.” Minister McCarty stopped again, wiping sweat from his forehead as Doctor Falvey put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Mrs. Dumphry snorted. “In all the years I taught you, did you boys learn nothing?” she chided. “Bad news only becomes worse when you delay it. Speak the truth, and be done with it.”

Minister McCarty shot another irritable glance at Mrs. Dumphry before continuing. “Andy found a large pile of bones.” The entire class gasped loudly, and then every child began talking at the same time. Some shouted questions, while others simply cried out in fear.