Son of Escobar by Roberto Sendoya Escobar

Son of Escobar by Roberto Sendoya Escobar

Author:Roberto Sendoya Escobar
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781913543907
Publisher: Ad Lib


CHAPTER 16: SPIRITED AWAY

Anglo-Colombian School, Bogotá, 1971

It was something that required nerves of steel. One slip-up and I would be in trouble. At the very least it could mean a slap on the face; at worst, a visit to the headmaster’s office. I weighed up the risk – and figured the reward was worth it.

‘You’re crazy,’ my best mate Hernando said. ‘You’ll never manage it.’

That was all the further motivation I needed. I flicked the yo-yo to its full length, flipped my wrist up at just the right moment and dragged the toy back. As planned, it snagged on the skirt of the girl in front, yanking it upwards, before the yo-yo snapped back into my palm.

‘Who was that?!’ The girl turned amid a wailing of laughter from the rest of my mates.

My red face would have given me away, if I’d hung around long enough to be identified as the guilty party. Long before that could happen I ducked out of the way into the crowd of boys, Hernando close behind. ‘Well?’ I said, when we thought we were out of harm’s way. ‘Did you see anything?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ he said. ‘It all happened too fast.’

Neither of us had any clue what the girls kept under their skirts but the temptation to find out was almost as overpowering as the urge to play with our new toys when we should be paying attention to our schoolwork.

My teacher, Miss Susan, had a stern instruction for me once we’d filed back into class after our mid-morning break. ‘The headmaster would like to see you.’

I gulped. I’d done it this time. Someone must have given me up. As I trudged down the corridor to his office, the yo-yo burning a hole in my pocket, I contemplated what punishment might await me. What was the sentence for having a toy in school and, worse, using it to torment girls? A letter home to my mother? Expulsion? Both seemed as bad as each other.

‘Phillip, take a seat,’ the headmaster said when I arrived, shaking. His solemn expression gave nothing away, save for the obvious seriousness of the situation. ‘I have to say I am quite sad.’ Oh, no, I thought, he’s going for the guilt trip. I braced myself for the, ‘How you’ve fallen short of the standards expected of me’ lecture. ‘It is a shame to be losing you so soon,’ he went on. I gulped, a bead of sweat trickled down my spine. Surely he wasn’t serious? For one little transgression? ‘However, I dare say you will enjoy your time at your new school. You have made quite an impression in your short time with us and I can safely say our loss will be St Hugh’s gain.’

I didn’t take in much of what was said after that. On one level I was relieved not to be in trouble, but a new school? Whatever could he mean? I was having so much fun and had made lots of friends. Surely there was some mistake.



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