The Call by Peadar O'Guilin

Author:Peadar O'Guilin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

Lunch occurs at the usual time, but now the refectory is more crowded than it has ever been, for all of the teachers and veterans are present. Extra chairs are brought in and some of the Year 6s and the last two 7s, a boy and a girl, are moved out of their usual places so that the top table can be lengthened.

Even Frankenstein has been dragged out of whatever hole he lives in, his eyes as large as an owl’s in his underfed face. He picks at his food as if not convinced the pigs have done their job properly. To his right, Mr. Hickey shovels his meal down with military efficiency.

“By Danú’s tits,” says Megan. “Somebody get that man a funnel before he starves!”

Diane Mallon has finally left the college, so of the veterans only Shamey and Melanie remain. They both sip from something they keep under the table, even though the rumor now is that she’s pregnant and he’s the father. Ridiculous of course. Everybody knows pregnancy would kill her with that heart of hers.

Farther along, Ms. Breen, the Turkey, raises her tiny chin so that her gaze sweeps the room and every student feels her suspicious glance pass over them. And not a word is spoken at the top table, not a single word until the last hideous lump of “bread pudding” has slithered its way into the Turkey’s stomach.

Then she stands and waves off the kitchen workers, who are already dumping hot pots of nettle tea onto the Year 1 tables.

“Listen,” she says, and they do. Even Megan’s gob stays glued shut. “We know you have heard by now what took place at Bangor Survival College. And Mallow, of course, before that. And many of you are asking why these things are happening. Why the Sídhe, the enemies of all our people, can’t just continue to murder us bit by bit. Why, after thousands of years, they are now so … so impatient. Well, let me tell you, there are minds all over the country working on this. But if you ask me, their impatience is a sign of our success. Of your success. We learn more about them with every survivor, and we’re getting more and more of those.” She grins horribly, working hard at believing her own words. As though losing nine in ten of a nation’s people, on and on into the future, can only end well.

“But things must change around here. So, on to good news. Another of our wonderful veterans, Shamey here, will be moving home.” He looks up, startled, woozy. This is news to him. But he makes no protest.

“Probably going to a hospital to get him off the drink,” whispers Marya, and Nessa can only agree, but her heart is beating, thumping with excitement, because she knows what’s coming next.

“And our own Anthony Lawlor—Anto, to most of you—will be returning to us. To share his … um, his fresher recollections and his survival strategies.”

Nessa feels her face burning.

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