Grams leaned back in her seat
and said to Kate, who yanked the kettle of boiling water from the stovetop.
“Careful dear. Don’t bruise the tea leaves. No one likes bitter tea.”
Kate stiffened
her spine while pouring the brew into a china cup. Hamish stood in the
doorway and leaned against the doorframe, watching his Grams tease his mom,
but realizing that his mom never understood Grams’ quirky ways. Before Kate
could start an argument, Hamish kissed her on the cheek and joined Grams at
the table.
“You look well
rested this morning,” said Grams.
He sighed. “I
finally had a decent nights sleep.”
Kate slid into
the chair across from Grams and sipped at her hot brew. “Where’s Captain
Malcolm?” Her gaze darted around the room, searching for a sign of the
pirate.
“He left, but
wanted me to tell you that he enjoyed your hospitality,” said Grams while
grinning behind her tea cup.
“He did?” Kate
paused, holding a biscuit to her lips.
“Aye, he did,”
said Grams. “I know he’s a bit rough around the edges, but he means well.”
Kate choked on a
sip of tea. “Aye, rough around the edges.” She glanced at Hamish and rolled
her eyes while Grams reached for a slice of bacon.
Hamish hid his
grin and finished the rest of his breakfast. Once he put his plate in the
dishwasher, he paused when Grams said, “How is school going for you?”
He stiffened.
“I’m not liking it.”
“Why is that?”
“The kids make
fun of me because I’m Scottish,” said Hamish.
“Why would they
do that? Being Scottish is something to be proud of,” said Grams.
“It’s because I’m
different than them.” Hamish left the kitchen with Grams following behind.
“Not all the kids are mean. I have several friends, but this one lad, Alec,
he’s very annoying.”
She patted his
hand. “Don’t worry about him any longer. I have a feeling he will start
being nice to you. A grandma knows these things,” she said, pinching
Hamish’s cheek. “Now wait here while I fetch your school bag. A moment later
she returned and handed the bag to Hamish. When he walked out the front door
of the house, he missed Grams waving at his backpack.
#
Hamish stood at
the front of the classroom, writing his math problem on the board when Alex
called out. “That’s not the right answer.” Alex stormed to the front of the
room and shoved Hamish aside. “This is how you work the math problem.”
Hamish returned to his seat
and crossed his arms over his chest. A tiny finger poked out from his
backpack and made a circle in the air before flinging golden dust on the
floor.
Alex shrieked as he started
writing uncontrollably on the board that the students were dumb and the
teacher was wasting her time.
The teacher grabbed Alex’s
arm and tried to pull it away from the board. “Stop it this instant!”
“I can’t! My hand
won’t stop writing,” wailed Alex who turned to glare at Hamish. “I know
you’re doing this somehow. Make it stop.”
Hamish sat up in
his seat. “What are you talking about?”
The teacher’s
shout of anger cut into Hamish’s and Alex’s argument. “If you don’t stop
this instant, you’ll be in so much trouble,” she said.
The other
students in the room glared at Alex. One of the students called out, “What a
looser.” Lucy mumbled and shook her head, “I can’t believe he’s dumb enough
to blame this on Hamish and expect the teacher to believe him.” Hamish
furrowed his brow and glanced around the room while the other children’s
voices were drowned out by Alex’s cries.
Lucy jumped to her feet and
shook her finger at Alex. “This is just stupid. Quit blaming Hamish. You’re
the moron who’s writing on the board.”
A moment later, Alex stopped
and fell to the floor. The children’s laughter echoed in the classroom while
the teacher helped Alex to his feet.
“I’ve had enough of your
disrespect. Stop blaming everything on Hamish. It’s your own fault you wrote
all this.” She grabbed Alex by the collar and headed toward the door.
“You’re going to the principle’s office.”
As Alex glanced over his
shoulder, he spied Finnegan poking out of Hamish’s bag. Finnegan waved his
fingers, scattering more leprechaun dust on the floor and blinked, turning
Alex’s shoes turn to stone.
Alex gasped. “It was you,” he
said, tugging against the teacher’s grip. Hamish is hiding someone in his
bag who made me do this.”
Hamish shook his head and
chuckled. “Aye, it was the wee folk.”
“The who?” Alex stumbled and
kicked off his stone shoes.
Lucy smacked her forehead
with the palm of her hand. “They are known as leprechauns, you dummy.” She
turned to Hamish and said, “He’s really lost it this time.”
Alex’s shout echoed down the
hall as the teacher led him to the principles office.
“This is awkward,” said
Hamish to all the children in the class, who stared at him.
One of the boys sitting in
front of Hamish said, “Just ignore Alex. He likes to make fun of new
people.”
“Yeah,” said a blonde haired
girl in pigtails, who sat opposite him. “He’s picked on all of us at some
time during the school year. You’re not alone.”
Hamish nodded. “Thanks. I
feel better.” He spied the leprechaun dust on the floor at his feet and
nudged his backpack, whispering, “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do
with this?”
A faint whisper echoed from
the depths of the bag. “Maybe.”
Hamish chuckled and joked
around with the students in his class, feeling like he finally belonged in
America. |