(Flash fiction means writing a short story in under 500 words. Difficult but not impossible. Enjoy.)
Street Justice
By
Sue Faris Raatjes©
Johnny Cooper ducked but the metal
edge of the ruler still nicked his forehead, drawing blood. He quickly wiped it
away, hoping the teacher, old “Whiskey-nose,” wouldn’t notice. Too late. She
hovered over his desk.
“Jonathon. Who threw the ruler?”
“I-I-I don’t know,” Johnny answered.
“Tell me or it’s after
school detention and a call home,”
said the fierce-looking giant standing before the quivering fourth grader. It
was 1950 in a public school on the south side of Chicago.
In time, the teacher’s threats beat down
the defenseless child. He pointed to Bobby Baker, a student in the back of
the room. Bobby’s big frame bulged over the old wooden desk. This was not the
first time around in fourth grade for this young boy.
Swiftly, Whiskey Nose grabbed the
offender by the collar and swept him from the room. Her heels clicked loudly as
she marched him down the hall to principal-prison.
“You snitched on Bobby Baker? You’re
history, Cooper!” said Tom, Johnny’s closest friend, during lunchtime.
The following day, Bobby Baker’s
back row seat sat ominously empty. Rumor was the ruler incident got him sent to
reform school, since it was the latest in a series of infractions.
That meant trouble for Johnny
because Bobby had three brothers who ruled the school playground. They were big, mean, and fiercely loyal to the family name.
“Gonna get you, Cooper,”
sneered the oldest brother as he walked by Johnny in the cafeteria line. “Don’t
know where, don’t know when. We’re gonna get you.”
After school, Johnny packed his
canvas newspaper bag with rolled up copies of the Chicago Daily Sun and jumped on his bike to begin his deliveries.
He rode fast, glancing over his shoulder. He turned down alleyways—anything
to avoid his usual route. He did this for a week, the words we’re gonna get you ringing in his ears.
Then it happened. He raced down
an alley and at the end, stood the three burly Baker brothers. They scowled,
crossed their arms, and looked ferocious. Sure enough, they came for Cooper.
The beating was swift and tough. Johnny
covered his face and cowered in the dirt. After a time, he heard the glorious
words, “Let’s go. He got the message.”
Johnny got up, assessed the damage:
swollen eye, cut lip, bruised arms, and torn pants that would have to be
explained at home. But, he survived. He picked up his newspapers, stuffed them
into his bag, and got back on his bike.
It was over. What he dreaded was
done. Smiling and breathing normally for the first time in days, Johnny rode
away, slowly.
