Page 40 of The Mentor
“Nieall, put that branch down before you hurt someone.” Shelly was running after Nieall, one of the Momsiboys, who looked furious and was swinging a long thin branch through the air and coming dangerously close to the other students. Some of the girls were screaming and running in circles.
“Hey, Shelly, you need our help taking it away from him?” Solomon shouted with a smug grin, but that only infuriated Nieall, who turned the branch toward Solomon.
“If you take him down from his left side, I’ll distract him from his right,” I instructed Marco, who gave me a nod of understanding. We were just about to move out from the tree line and I was locked on my target when Kya came running from a different direction, stopping close to the children and taking in the chaos.
With a hand raised up in the air, I stopped Marco. “Wait!” I said softly. “Let’s see how Miss Non-violence handles this one.”
“But she could get hurt,” Marco hissed softly.
“He’s one of her students,” I pointed out. “Besides, if he starts beating her with the stick I’ll rip him to pieces.”
Marco shifted his balance but stayed close, watching Kya reach out both hands in a calming manner and speaking loudly with a placating tone.
“Hey, Nieall, feel free to whip that branch around as much as you like, just be sure not to hit anyone, okay?”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
“There is some tall grass over here; why don't you come and hit that?” she said patiently and to my surprise Nieall lowered the branch and looked where she was pointing.
Kya continued. “I can see that you're upset, but that's okay, we can talk about it and the grass won't be hurt by you beating it.” She had moved close enough for her to touch his shoulder, and with her subtle authority she led the boy away from the group toward the tall grass, where he started beating his branch; lackadaisically.
I could see them talk; his head was down but she was speaking to him in a soft voice that was too low for us to hear.
“What do you think she's telling him,” Marco asked.
“I don't know.” I crossed my arms and leaned back on my heels. “I would tell him to drop down and do fifty push-ups. That would teach him not to do something that stupid again. He could have poked someone’s eye out, for fuck’s sake.”
“Is he crying?” Marco asked with his nose wrinkled up from the way that the boy’s shoulders were bobbing up and down. Kya placed her arms around his shoulders, pulling him toward her chest in a maternal gesture that made something pinch inside of me. I had once been a boy like Nieall, but there had been no soft females to comfort me when I was mad or sad.
“I can’t believe that she’s not punishing him,” Marco breathed.
“Come on.” I had spotted that some of our boys were picking up tall grass and throwing it at each other. Two more minutes and I would have to break up a fight. “Hey, boys, quit it, will you?” I shouted and as soon as I approached them I asked the obvious question. “What happened with Nieall?”
The boys were eager to tell and stumbled over each other in their desire to be the first to speak.
“He just went completely ballistic. We didn't do anything, I swear it,” Nero assured me.
“Did he say anything?” I asked.
“He just said we shouldn't call him a Momsi.” Hunter lifted the edge of his upper lip in a smirk and threw a handful of grass to the ground. “Like it’s a big deal or something. It’s not our fault that he wasn’t lucky enough to become a real Nman.”
“Officially, Nieall is a Motlander, not a Momsi,” I corrected him. “I know we usually refer to them as Momsies, but if he doesn't like it you shouldn't call him that.”
“Whatever.” Hunter shrugged.
“Solo, gather everyone together,” I instructed, knowing that Solomon thrived on this sort of leadership role and sure enough, the tall boy only needed a few minutes to have every student gathered in a half circle around me. Even Nieall joined us and although he was quiet and closed off, there was no hostility in his face any longer.
“It's a beautiful day and I want to take advantage of it,” I said. “You’ll partner up and go find ten different types of leaves and when you come back here I want you to name them all.”
Kya joined the half circle but avoided meeting my eyes when I looked at her.
“Line up according to age,” I instructed. “That’s it, and now I want the oldest to pair up with the youngest.” I helped them fold up the line to find their match. Solomon, our oldest student at fourteen, ended up partnering with Mila, who was blushing red just from being in his presence.
Raven was with Nero, a twelve-year old boy. “I don't want to be with a girl,” he complained. “And she's only eleven.”
“I'll be twelve next week,” Raven defended herself. “And what’s wrong with being a girl anyway?”
Nero shook his head. “Girls are weak and stupid. You can’t even fight. I want to be with a boy.”
