Suddenly Flluuurrrgh




He came in looking pale: he had forgotten his belt: he wouldn't be able to grade without his belt.
'Wait here,' I tell his parents. I walk back into the hall and bow; an observation of courtesy that, at some point, we all perform inadvertently: at a supermarket, a school, a public toilet.
'Excuse me, Mr Paine…'
I know. It's a good name. And the right person to ask. Instructor Paine points to a bag of spare belts, and there's the very colour I'm looking for. After a hug of much gratitude, after a courteous bow at the door, I return to the nervous scene, hand over the borrowed item. The drama is quickly resolved and there's nothing unusual about stricken faces just before a grading. I forgot about it.
The hall looked brighter than usual, because of the new expensive floor. The new floor didn't have any marks on it to show students where to stand: we set them out in neat rows so our grading examiner can exercise proper scrutiny. The electric tape is missing, so then ensues all the excitement of a tape hunt. Mr Douglas-Green corners a red roll in his kit bag. I butcher it into neat X shapes. The students may now enter.
'What belt is Thomas wearing?' Mr asks.
'It's a 5th Kup.' (Thinks: oh no, is that the right one? Looks: wrinkles brow. Thinks: it is the right one. It's just not tied very neatly.)
If I had been looking at his ashen face then, maybe I would have known.
Suddenly, flluuurrrgh…
As the tea coloured vomit soaked into the cheery blue floor cloths, I finally recognised that he was paler than he should have been. He usually does very well at gradings.

Comments

Suze said…
How old is Thomas?
3 February 2013 at 00:30
Lisa Southard said…
Nine- actually, ten by the end of this month. He'd been off school with a chest infection but convinced his parents- and me and himself- that he was well enough to grade. Highly commendable: he got himself to the edge of the hall before the flluurrgh. Thomas always gives it his best shot. He left with a self depreciating smile.
3 February 2013 at 09:28
Suze said…
My daughter is nine, this month. For some reason, this makes me feel closer to you. The idea of your ten-year-old Thomas and my girl being February babies. Please give him a happy birthday and a huge 'well done' from me.
5 February 2013 at 01:54
Suze said…
Not a well done on the fluuurgh bit. The always giving it his best shot bit. Just ... thought I'd clarify ...
5 February 2013 at 15:55
Lisa Southard said…
A very happy birthday to both the February kids! I had suspected the 'well done' was for the attitude not the mess on the floor :-) It is a lovely thought, both these smart youngsters sharing a birthday month. Can't help but indulge a romantic notion that one day the two will meet and get married! Not any day soon, obviously. Ten is a bit young!
6 February 2013 at 00:19
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

Image
There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
Read more

Spring Is Ticking

Image
It has been a while since I wrote a blog post - I have been writing books, and keeping a diary, the days and the work aren’t lost, just ticking quietly in a corner. [There’s a little dust in that corner but the shelf is made of strong oak planks, and the light is enchanting. A plant grows in a pot, it spouts leaves. A half candle stands in a china holder.] At Paddock Garden (properly titled Paddock Garden Orchards, I am a lazy typer) a tree corral has been constructed. It contains persimmons which may not have survived the recent cold blasts and heavy rain, along with some happy pepper trees, bladdernuts, and plum yews. We plan to underplant and interplant extensively in this concentrated area. Around the grounds also we have begun some windbreak hedges, mostly of elaeagnus and hazel. We have a line of sapling native oaks edging the spinney. The first of our camping bay areas is growing emerald grass that was seeded last autumn; the second has recently been seeded; the last three need ...
Read more

September's End

Image
September is all but done. Our fingers are purple from plucking berries, scored by thorns, sore and satisfied. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Through the cold spring, and the soggy summer, we have worked to make this place more and more beautiful. We are charming sustenance from the soil with our toiling; using the present to craft a kinder path- a tree-lined, fruit-bearing way.  And so here we are, in autumn, a time of harvest, glut, and storage. A time to plant trees, a time of festival. Our lives are seasonal, tidal, temperate, held in repetitions that are never the same; variations of repeating patterns, a common uniqueness. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Pollinator friendly saplings added to  the firepit hedge, lower field.
Read more