The first hullabaloo left Femi pressed against the wall like a leech. The blaring siren brought a tidal wave of bodies swooping down the corridor. He glimpsed his friend Gary’s sandy-brown hair bob away and disappear. By the time he could prise himself off the wall, he was alone. Late and lost.
From behind closed doors came the muffled sounds of classes settling down. He scurried along the empty corridor, trying to delve into his bag at the same time. He needed to consult his map. There was a T-junction coming up. Was Maths to the left? His heart was already pumping fast when the second hullabaloo struck. A whacking great thud … a raw, yelping howl … sudden laughter. Then a posse of older boys careered around the corner from the left, one almost tumbling over Femi. The boy swore as Femi’s eyes met his. Dark black pupils in a delicate brown web. A flicker like a camera shutter. Femi didn’t wait. He darted around the corner.
Deep, awful moans arose from a man crouched in the doorway of the nearest classroom. With his head drawn in like a wounded soldier, he was rocking back and forth, clutching one hand over the other. Femi gaped at the emerging tattoo of red rivulets.
The children inside the room looked strangely frozen, except for a girl and boy standing close behind the kneeling figure. First years, like Femi.
‘Miss! Help, miss!’ They signalled frantically at a teacher hurrying down the corridor. Noisy older students spilt out from the classroom behind her.
‘Sir’s finger’s caught in the door, miss!’ squealed the girl.
‘Someone slammed it, miss!’ The boy looked ashen. ‘Sir was looking the other way!’
Femi stood transfixed as a crowd swirled around him to see the injured teacher.
‘WHAT is going on here?’ a voice thundered behind them. ‘Get back to class immediately, all of you! Back to class!’
Femi had only been two days at Avon High, but already he recognized the voice of Mr Gordon, the deputy head. Flash Gordon! His sister Sade had told him the nickname. It was a joke. He was tall and broad-shouldered but he had a large potbelly and thinly spread-out grey hair. However, his voice was deep and powerful and it propelled Femi out of the combat zone, down the corridor in search of his Maths class.