School by Nathaniel Hardman (top reads .TXT) 📕

“Choeshz!” said Qush Yurwush, and the students began to split into pairs and spread out across the field.

Ushegg grabbed Jeff and began leading him away, but the teacher stopped them. “Ri,” he said, wagging a finger, “Ushegg ben Xequth. Nu quirguth,” he paused, his eyes met Jeff’s, and Jeff took an involuntary step back. This man really didn’t like him. “Ben Fogu.”

Jeff looked around and found the boy staring at him. Fogu was the captain of the team Jeff had played on in the soccer-y game both days. The kid didn’t seem to like him, maybe because Suzy was so good and had ended up on the other team.

“Hey,” Jeff said, smiling weakly as he approached the other boy. Fogu didn’t answer, but his expression was eloquent; it said, “I’m going to murder you.”

“Shuosth!” shouted Qush Yurwush. Fogu raised his fists and fell into the ready stance.

Jeff raised his hands defensively and took a step back. “I don’t, uh... wait!”

Qush Yurwush shouted, “Kepx!” And Fogu came for him.

The first couple of punches didn’t really land because Jeff was back-pedaling and ducking and throwing his hands up wildly. But then Fogu scored a glancing blow off the top of Jeff’s head, and at the sharp pain, Jeff reacted in the worst possible way. He dropped his hands and said, “Hey!”

Then the next punch landed like a battering ram to the face.

Jeff’s vision went black for a second, and when it came back, he was lying on the grass. His head was spinning, and his cheekbone was throbbing, pulsing with pain. But something about getting hit in the face...

It made him mad.

Jeff shoved himself up from the ground and launched himself at Fogu with a feral roar. He caught a satisfying look of alarm in the other boy’s eyes right before he tackled him.

Jeff’s triumph was short-lived. He was on top of Fogu for a second, but then they rolled, and while Jeff was trying to regain control and get back on top, Fogu started punching.

Jeff tried to shield his face, and suddenly Fogu was out of his hands, standing over him. Jeff stayed down, cowering with hands over his head. The fight was over, and they both knew it.

Jeff peeked up at Fogu and saw the boy’s expression had softened into a sort of annoyed pity. To Jeff’s surprise, he offered a hand up, and Jeff took it.

Then Fogu put up his fists to go again, and Jeff almost cried.

“Seriously?” Jeff muttered, but Fogu insisted, so he raised his fists. Fogu surprised him again by correcting his stance, showing him how to get up on the balls of his feet and how to hold his arms ready, but loose.

The boy threw a slow punch and let Jeff block it; then he showed how to block more economically, with less effort. Fogu spent the rest of the lesson coaching Jeff, and by the end, Jeff was blocking high fast jabs like some sort of kung fu master. At least he felt that way.

Qush Yurwush used his wand to make the sound of a car horn finally, and Fogu nodded to Jeff before turning to join his friends as they began to drift away from the school into the town

The girl who had supplied lunch yelled something, and Yurwush yelled something back, and then another kid went and collected the big woven bag from her. Jeff ran over to Suzy where she stood listening as Shovuy talked to her and another alien.

“Hey Suzy!” Jeff said. He was flushed with excitement. “Suzy!” She held up a finger to wait as she listened to the girls. “Suzy!” She held up the finger again. “Try punching me!” Jeff insisted.

Suzy turned and punched him in the belly.

Jeff doubled over, arms around his middle. “Not that way,” he wheezed.

TWENTY FOUR

“You got lunch?!” Peter demanded.

Peter said it, but Suzy could feel the accusation from the whole class. She blushed, not knowing what to say.

“Yeah, but it was only a little bit,” Jeff said defensively. “More like a snack. Hey, whose word was TUBERCULOSIS?” He pointed to the hangman game on the whiteboard in a transparent attempt to change the topic.

“We got nothing but ketchup and mustard packets this morning, and I don’t think we’re even getting THAT for dinner.” Peter wasn’t crying, but there was something in his voice that said he was close. Suzy watched him stalk off to the corner, and she felt guiltier than ever.

“Hey, I’m sorry guys,” Suzy said. “I think they’ll let us go again tomorrow, and we can bring back some food for everyone. We learned a lot today. Maybe we can figure out, like, how to ask for food.”

“Maybe figure out how to ask why we’re here,” Shen suggested.

“Hey, figure out how to say, ‘Get me off of this stupid planet, and LET ME GO HOME’!” Jada said, to general agreement.

Suzy grimaced.

How would a president handle this?

“You know what? That’s a good idea,” She said. She got a marker, erased half of the board, and wrote, “WORDS” in big letters across the top. “We’ll teach you everything that we learned today,” she said. “They all say ‘Je’ when they meet.” She wrote “je – hello” on the board, followed by “daeux – quiet” (a favorite of Qush Yurwush), and “toy – ball”.

“Seriously?” said Shen.

“I know, right? And ‘Choz’ was like ‘Pass’ or ‘Give me the ball’ or something.” She wrote “choz – pass” on the board, then “hicu jushu – come here.” She studied what she had just written, frowning. “But it’s more than just an ‘h’ sound. It’s like,” Suzy made a hard “h”, like a “j” in Spanish.

“No, more like this,” said Jeff, and he made an exaggerated hocking loogie sound. Suzy rolled her eyes and turned back to the