Rings of Smoke Prologue
Rings of Smoke by Diane O'Toole
“Who’s been spanked with the ugly stick? Fitch has! Fitch has!” Leonard sat on the top step, looking down at the girls, dancing in a circle. He was alone. He was always alone.
“Who’s been spanked with the ugly stick? Fitch has all day long!” The girls laughed hysterically. Leonard just stared at them. They’d made the song up after hearing a group of American soldiers singing minstrel songs at a school concert earlier that year.
And as they taunted and laughed at him, he just sat quietly, staring back at them, a hint of a smirk danced in his eyes as he thought, your time will come and how I’m going to make you suffer – just wait and see!
It was lunchtime at Lancaster Grammar School; the time Leonard Fitch hated the most. Not because the food was dreadful and inedible. Not because he was a loner, without friends – he preferred it that way. Who wants to play with those morons anyway? But it was the one time the boys from the Grammar and the girls from the adjoining High School mixed in the playground. It was an opportunity for those whores in the making to torment him.
In post war Britain, life was hard and pretty grim. Many of the children had lost their fathers during the war, but Leonard was fortunate in that respect; his father had what they called a ‘protected occupation’, which in Leonard’s eyes made him special. Important even, like Mr. Churchill, he didn’t have to go and fight, and neither did his dad. According to his mother though, he was a coward – afraid to go and do his duty.
No, it wasn’t the war that killed Leonard’s father. It was his mother.
“Come along Fitch! Stop daydreaming, lad!” Leonard’s Form Teacher yelled, giving him a slap across the back of the head. The girls laughed once more, as Leonard rubbed his neck. Unfolding himself slowly upright to his full six foot four inch height, he resembled a newborn giraffe, struggling to find his balance. “You need to get those books out for the next lesson!” the teacher shouted, looking over his shoulder. Oh, the joys of being a Prefect. Not only did the other kids hate you, the teacher’s treated you like a slave.
Glaring back at the sniggering girls, he swore an oath to himself. They will regret this. I will have my day.
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