Maniu T's Arc

Chapter 3 of 9

By Wednesday, the figure on the ridge had come down. Maniu saw him first through the schoolroom window, a purple shape moving between the trees at the edge of the yard. The three children saw him too. Mark dropped his chalk. The other two slid under their desks. Maniu closed the shutter, but the shutter was thin wood, and the shape outside was tall as the roof. "Keep reading," Maniu said. His voice stayed level. His hands did not. He wrote a single letter on the board, big and clear. A. "Say it with me." They tried. A knock hit the door. Not a knock. A fist. The whole wall shook. Dust fell from the beams. Mark started to cry without sound. Maniu stepped outside and shut the door behind him. The Mad Man stood in the yard. Purple, bare-chested, twice Maniu's height. He carried no weapon. He did not need one. He kicked over the water barrel and the wood cracked like a dry branch. "Send them home," the giant said. "Today. Or I come inside tomorrow." Maniu's mouth went dry. He had planned for the landowner. A man with papers. A man who could be answered with papers. This was not that. He said, "They're children." "Good," the giant said. "Children scare easy." A voice came from the road. "Hey." Maniu turned. Yes, Fisher stood at the gate with his fishing rod in one hand. The boy who had once talked families out of the school. The boy who now knew his father's name was carved along the rod's grain, because Maniu had shown him. He walked into the yard like the giant was a stump he meant to step around. "You're on school ground," Yes, Fisher said. "My teacher's ground." The giant laughed. Then he stopped laughing, because more feet were coming up the road. Two fathers. Three mothers. A cousin with a hoe. Word had traveled fast in a small place. Yes, Fisher had run door to door while Maniu was still writing the letter A on the board. The giant looked at them. He looked at the schoolhouse. He spat on the broken barrel. "Next time," he said, "I don't knock." He walked back toward the ridge. Slow. Making sure they watched. Maniu let out a breath he had not known he was holding. Yes, Fisher would not meet his eye. "I told them the giant works for the landowner," the boy said. "I told them if he takes the school, he takes their fields next anyway. Might as well stand now." Maniu nodded. He opened the schoolroom door. The three children came out slowly. Mark looked at the smashed barrel, then at the crowd of parents in the yard. He picked up his slate. "A," Mark said. "A," the parents said back. The giant was gone from the ridge. But he had promised to return, and next time he would not knock. Maniu had bought a day. He had not bought a wall.