Date: Sun, 8 Jun 2008 00:37:15 EDT
From: Djedoric58@aol.com
Subject: The Cup Bearer Chapter Nine

THE CUP BEARER

By DJ

CHAPTER NINE


NOTE for non-British readers. In British schools, male pupils tend to be
addressed by their last name. Only close acquaintances use first names, so
for these school scenes, Emilio is addressed as Gomez. Also, among Welsh
people, there is a tendency to drop their `H's when speaking.

Monday 9th January 1995, Trentham, Cheshire.

Sandy Roberts shifted his six-foot body into a more comfortable position
behind his desk and listened to the babble of conversation around him. He
watched Miss Wayne, 5B's form mistress, close the register and look round
the battle-scarred classroom, checking empty seats and familiar
faces. Sandy did the same. Half the class had already made up their minds
that they were no longer interested in working for the mock `O' level exams
in June, which meant the other half would suffer as a result of their
disruptive behaviour. Unlike them, he wanted to get good grades so he could
go to Music College, and he wasn't going to let the nerds upset his plans

The classroom door opened and the head teacher, James MacCaffrey, walked in
followed by a new boy. Eyes turned and widened with interest. Jaws dropped
and there was a collective intake of breath. He was a stunner all
right. The class rose politely to their feet as Sandy studied him. He
looked Spanish or possibly Middle Eastern. Put a pair of gypsy earrings on
him and, well!

The Beak smiled at the class from his lofty height. "Good morning, 5B. As
you were."

Chairs clattered and scraped as 5B sat down again, and urgent whispering
broke out while the Beak talked to Miss Wayne. Sandy watched the new boy
return all stares with startling eyes that glowered at them under the
longest eyelashes Sandy had ever seen on a boy, his message quite
clear. "Keep your distance, I don't need you." He caught Sandy's eye and
stared hard at him. Half hypnotised, Sandy found himself unable to break
contact. What will this lot make of him? Most of them will pass `im off as
a Nancy boy with all that long `air, and leave it at that. Gaskin and `is
cronies will lick their lips, anticipatin' another easy victim for their
nasty little pranks.


The new boy broke eye contact and Sandy felt he'd been dropped from a great
height. Talk about photogenic! Sandy started calculating apertures and
exposures, photography buff that he was. Neat with good posture, `olds `is
`ead `igh on well-squared shoulders. `Is legs are sturdy too; a physical
animal but what sort? Footballer? Sandy hoped so. He played in goal for the
school first team; ten games played last term and twenty-one saves made,
not bad. But whatever six-foot plank this new boy's carryin' on `is
shoulder, `e'll have to get rid of it fast or'e won't get a moment's peace
with this lot. Folk in this class don't tolerate surly strangers,
especially those who're conceited about their looks. All the Latinos Sandy
had met were like that.

The new boy turned to stare at him again and Sandy had the feeling he was
being picked out, chosen for something the way those eyes glittered at him,
and he felt as if something was boring through the centre of his
forehead. Sandy wanted to tear his eyes away, but found he couldn't. Once
again it was the new boy who broke eye contact first. Sandy's heart landed
back in his chest with a dull thud. This was one strange creature joining
5B.

The whispers continued but now there was only one topic of
conversation. Sandy didn't see anything wrong with long hair if it was neat
and clean, and there was nothing wrong with this boy's hair. In fact
everything about him was neat. Someone remarked that maybe he was a puff.

"He's never fifteen!"

"Looks like something out of the Jungle Book."

"Bet his name's Mowgli." This brought a ripple of stifled laughter.

"Isn't he a dish though?" a female voice joined in. If the new boy heard it
he gave no sign as he stared at the Beak. Sandy wondered what he would make
of James MacCaffrey, who tipped Sandy's height by a good three inches and
whose booming laugh acted as a homing beacon throughout the
school. Everybody liked him, parents included, and his handsome features
had all the female pupils in love with him.

The Beak introduced him to Miss Wayne then left the room, and the ageing
deputy head teacher drew the new boy towards the desks. "5B, this is Emilio
Gomez. You may already know his sister and two brothers He hasn't been in
this country very long so it's up to us to help him settle down." So that
was it! Sandy thought. The guy had a sister in a lower class who looked
just like him. Miss Wayne asked who was going to look after him and, "show
him the ropes?"

Sharon Dent offered and everybody laughed, such was her
reputation. `Haywain' knew this and waited for one of the boys to
offer. Gomez fixed his gaze on Sandy, and like someone under a spell, Sandy
raise his hand. What made him do it he didn't know?

Beetroot red, he was. Dafydd Sanderson Roberts, born fifteen years ago in
Cardiff; the class clown except when playing the piano or keeping goal. The
feeling he had was not that he offered to shepherd this new kid around, but
that the new boy had chosen him for the job. He felt like a giant when
Gomez sat down beside him.

Miss Wayne went back to her desk to enter his name in the
register. "Assembly will be late today. The school has had a rather high
intake of new pupils this term so you have an extra few minutes chat time
before the bell goes."

As if a radio had been switched on, 5B erupted into a frenzy of chatter - a
ploy of Miss Wayne's to allow free talk before assembly in response to the
head master's rule. `Talk now and not during lessons!' Again, there was
only one topic, the new boy.

"What's his name again? Sabu or something?" someone tittered. Sandy's anger
boiled but Gomez folded his arms across his chest and pretended he was
deaf.

"Did you see his fingernails?"

"Yeah, they're longer on his right hand."

"Why's that?"

"He plays a guitar, stupid."

"So what? Most Latinos do."

"Looks like a puff."

"It takes one to know one, sunshine."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Whatever you want it to."

Sandy glanced down at Gomez as the boy's head came up for a second to flick
his hair back off his face. His eyes glittered with anger and his jaws were
clenched tight. Someone, or some event, had snatched Gomez from somewhere
and dumped him here against his will.

I wonder who kicked you in the guts? Instantly those dark eyes flashed
towards him again and it was as if he understood what Sandy was
thinking. Sandy's heart thudded as he forced himself to look to the
front. It looked like this guy had him hooked, but what for?

The school bell rang and 5B filed out into the corridor. The class bullies
Gaskin, Vetch and Ball, were ahead of Sandy and his new charge. As they
approached the door where Miss Wayne was standing, Sandy watched Gaskin
look at the other two and pucker his lips. Ball sniggered, and Vetch placed
a hand on his hip and minced a few paces.

Miss Wayne glared at the three of them. Ball caught her eye and coloured
then looked down at the floor, trying to hide the smirk on his face.

Gaskin was the tallest of the three, untidy hair, and a pleasant enough
face when it wasn't clouded by a scowl which Sandy sensed was a forced
mask. He remembered him as a nice guy till about two years ago, now he was
just a nondescript bully.

Vetch was the thin one, a tow haired scarecrow stuffed into a rumpled
school uniform. Ball was the punk of the trio. Any hairstyle in fashion,
he'd tried it, from dying it purple to shaving it into a Mohiquan. That one
resulted in a suspension from school till he grew it out. The first in the
school to have his nose pierced, rumour had it he had something else
pierced as well but Sandy was certainly not going find out if it was
true. On their own, Vetch and Ball were harmless, but put them together
with Gaskin? Watch out!

Sandy leaned down and said in Gomez's ear, "I smell big trouble." Gomez
just shrugged his shoulders and walked on.

* * *

Thursday 12th January 1995

The café the pupils of Trentham High school used as a watering hole, was a
relic from the fifties, complete with its original jukebox full of golden
oldies. Sandy and Gomez bought egg-burgers and coke, and grabbed the last
available seats. Sandy took a bite of his burger then had to shout above
the clamour to make himself heard. "You're crazy, you know that? On Monday,
Gaskin knocked your pen on the floor and just `appened to stand on
it. Wasn't a cheap one either, was it?" All conversation at the table died
as everyone listened. "On Tuesday, Ball got you in the ribs durin' PE, and
yesterday Vetch tripped you up outside the school gates. If the Beak `adn't
been `angin' about, I'd `ave sat him on the railins', spikes or no
spikes. Those three are out to make your life a misery, isn't it? You going
to stand for it then?"

"I don't have to prove I'm a match for them," Gomez bit deep into his
burger and relish dripped onto his chin. He lifted a finger wiped it up to
his mouth in a delicate motion then took out a snow-white handkerchief to
wipe his mouth and finger. The other four boys who shared their table gave
each other knowing looks and started talking amongst themselves.

Sandy wondered if Gomez was a Nancy after all. Gomez looked up suddenly and
Sandy's colour rocketed. "You've got to show `em you can't be pushed
around, isn't it? What you need is a bit of the old Judo."

"You mean Kung Fu and all that stuff?"

"Why not? Sweetnam runs classes every Friday durin' the last two
periods. We start again tomorrow. I'm only a Yonkyu, that's a fourth
class. Gaskin and `is mates are Nikyus, that's second class."

Gomez popped the last of his burger into his mouth, wiped his fingers with
his handkerchief again, and stared thoughtfully at the tabletop. At last he
shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose I could check it out." Someone at the
table snorted with laughter then yelped as someone else kicked him. Gomez
didn't seem to notice.

Sandy beamed at him. "Well, thank The Lord for that!" He hadn't felt so
pleased in weeks. To his school chums he was `Lurch' the big Welsh clod,
heavy footed except between the goalposts, and hiding his shyness with the
ability to make people laugh at him. But in protecting himself, he fended
off the girls as well. He had as many hormones racing round his body as the
next guy but he'd never even held a girl's hand yet, let alone kissed
one. His mates never let him forget it either. Some mates! He had nobody he
could really call a friend, and being an only child, he knew about
loneliness. Perhaps Gomez would be his chum. He was on his own too, so why
not?

He raised his eyes to look at Gomez and found him staring rather coldly at
him. "The other day, Gaskin mentioned your father was a preacher, or words
to that effect. You're not a bible freak are you?"

Sandy grinned sheepishly."I suppose so. Mam and Dad `ave always gone to
chapel and Dad became an elder two years ago. I go mostly because I like
playin' the organ."

"Well, just don't push your religion my way, okay? God never did anything
for me when I needed him."

Afraid that Gomez might walk out before their friendship developed into
something concrete, Sandy changed the subject. Music; now that was
something of mutual interest. He talked about his favourite instrument, the
piano and Gomez let it slip that he played the flute as well as the guitar.

"Well then, why not come round tonight, and bring your flute."

"I might. What else do you do?"

"This." Sandy showed Gomez his latest camera, a tiny Minox GL "It's not
State Of The Art but I like it. See this front panel? You open it and the
lens slides out on its little bellows, like this. Neat eh?  Turn the camera
upside down and the front becomes a lens hood, right?"

Gomez nodded. "Yeah, neat."

On their way back to school, Gomez frowned at Sandy. "Why are you called
Sandy if you've got blonde hair?"  Sandy grinned. "It's short for
Sanderson, my middle name, right?"

   Amused, Gomez shook his head..

* * *

When the new week began, the whole class buzzed with talk about Gaskin and
Co. meeting with a mysterious roller wizard at the local leisure park.
Sandy couldn't wait to tell Gomez how Gaskin and his mates were up to their
usual bullying tactics. They had almost cleared the roller track, when this
stranger, clad in black safety leathers and full helmet, exploded among
them and gave them a dose of their own medicine. Ball and Vetch ended up
sprawled all over the track and Gaskin disappeared over the outer wall,
much to the delight of the other skaters. The three had only just got back
onto their feet when they were knocked flying a second time. After that
their adversary gave them a one-finger salute and disappeared as quickly as
he arrived. Gomez listened to the tale but made no comment. Sandy asked him
round to his house again but Gomez declined the invitation, saying he had
things to do. Sandy heard the talk around school. "Nobody ever sees Pretty
Boy around, except in school."

"Maybe he's a home bird?"

"Nah! He's just a wimp."

Sandy burned with frustration, but Gomez ignored it all, and Sandy sensed
he was planning something. Gaskin's downfall perhaps?

* * *