Absolution

I was back at school, another miserable day. I stood outside in the rain, at the end of the breezeway with my cigarette. I was skipping home room as it seemed like a stupid idea to have to sit in a room and stare at people you don’t like – in a class that is just about attendance. In this school your class teachers took your attendance anyways, so why 15 minutes of home room? I waited for the last bell to ring, butted out my cigarette, and walked to my class wet. The morning’s first class was English. Kat was in this class with me. The rabble were in an uproar at my befriending Kat and they delighted in annoying us before, during and after class. “Hey Kovacs, did you and your friend ride on one broom, or do you have your own now?” They enjoyed using my last name, as if for some reason it was an insult in itself. “Well actually Simon, your father drives me everyday. Ever since I caught him necking with the principal (the principal was male).” Simon tried to hide his anger and shock at my rebuke. People around us jeered alerting the teacher to the in-class distraction. “Settle down class…” “Yer so fuckin’ dead Kovacs.” Whispered Simon sticking his middle finger up at me. “Yeah? You and what army? – You fag!” I returned the favour by showing him my finger. But I could see that many of his friends were looking at me and mumbling how they were going to gang up on me after school. Kat just looked at me and shook her head. Well, she’d be there to support me Right? Wrong! At the end of classes I went out to the gates where about fifty fellow students had convened for some gladiatorial entertainment – but no Kat. Well, I had been in this situation before, and with a big deep breath, put down my homework bag, and went to find out what this school was made of. After about 30 minutes, I was walking back into the school because one of the teachers stopped the fighting. I was held on one side of the boys’ gym teacher and Simon was being held on the other side. My parents were going to freak if they found out I was in yet another fight. My father even threatened to put me in some kind of military school. I didn’t know what that actually was, but he made it sound pretty bad. We were heading towards the office when I heard a familiar melody coming from the band room. I’ll be damned; Kat was in the band room the whole time! That melody was her own composition she played when I was at her house. All I could think of was: thanks for the support Kat – obviously she was no fighter. So the principal heard both stories and surveyed the uneven damage sustained by both parties. “Aileen, if you wish to continue coming to this school, you will behave according to our rules of conduct. You don’t live in the catchment area for this school and therefore we can expel you if you give us sufficient cause.” “I didn’t start this fight, Simon did sir.” “That is immaterial. You finished it, didn’t you? I don’t want to see you in my office again over fights and bullying – do I make myself clear?” “Yes, sir.” “Good. You may go.” I left the office—pissed off. I didn’t ask for a fight and the principal acted like the whole thing was my fault! I was walking along the hallway and I could still hear the piano playing in the band room. Well, at least I could get in a good yell at Kat. “Where the hell were you?” I was still hot from the fight and I was dishevelled and sweaty, still riding the adrenaline high that one gets when they are in the throes of rage. Kat’s calm demeanour, plinking away at the piano keys, just lit me up. “Aileen, just because you allow foolish mortals to get the better of you, to goad you on, don’t come looking for support from me. I ignore them and I have survived just fine. Why do you care what they think?” She finally moved her gaze from the keyboard to look at me. She tilted her head towards me inquisitively. “How can you stand being the butt end of their jokes? You may like playing the coward – but I would sooner fight than let them take pot-shots at me in class.” “You will find that in life there will always be an idiot trying to drag you down so that they appear superior. I hope that when you are older you find a more constructive method to deal with these people. I believe that ignoring an idiot is the best. You see, just because you can fight, doesn’t mean you should fight. This is a lesson that Achilles never learned either. I have however had an inspiration while you were out there impressing fellow students with your street rat techniques. I now have your Wiccan name…” “Yeah? What is it then?” “Dragon” “Dragon? Why Dragon?” “It refers to a woman with a fiery temperament – that is you.” For all my anger and adrenaline, I had to laugh. I liked the name. The more I said it, the more I saw how true it was. She was smart; I had to give her that. It was the most fatal flaw in my character, and every time my Wiccan name was used it was a reminder that I had to check my temper and relax.