The weekend passed by quietly. Vehicles could be seen coming and going from the resort, but none of the Spiritist community came down to the village. It wasn't until Monday that a busload of twenty children arrived at the school. Cheryl and her brother Greg were by the entrance when the bus pulled up. Some of the other students began to jeer and make fun of the Spiritist children as they got off the bus. One of the girls was a georgeous blonde.
"Hey, honey!" one of the foul mouthed boys cried, "Why don't you put on something that shows what you've got, then maybe I'll take you out in the woods and show you where it's at!"
Everyone started laughing. The girl walked over and without a word slapped the young man so hard it took him off his feet. "God damned bitch!" the boy screamed, regaining his feet. He reached for the girl but this only resulted with him being flipped over her and quite unceremoniously dumped on the concrete. He regained his feet again but made no attempt to advance again. The other boys laughed heartily.
"I think she's a little too much for you Freddie!" one of them cried.
A teacher ran up. "Young lady!" he snapped, "From now on keep your hands to yourself. There is absolutely no need for someone striking someone because he's merely joking with you. Let's have a little common sense around here!"
"If he learns to keep a civil tongue in his mouth," the girl remarked, "we'll get along just fine. But I will not be insulted, no matter what you choose to call it."
"Mr West," the young man remarked, "the incident was entirely my fault. I provoked it. I was out of line."
The teacher looked at him doubfounded. "Why, Mr. Cooper," he remarked, "an admission that you could possibly do something inappropriate? Now, I really DO believe these people can perform miracles! I've just witnessed one! Very well...as you say, the young lady was justified, I will take no action. But young lady, please try to be a little bit more understanding?"
The teacher walked off leaving the youngsters staring at each other. The boy brushed off his hand and held it out to the girl. "Freddie Cooper," he remarked. "Truce?"
The girl took his hand and shook it. "Andrea, Andrea Hatfield," she answered. "O.k., truce!"
Cheryl lost track of the rest of the conversation when a hand slipped onto her butt and began to feel between her legs. She stepped away, turned, and shoved. "DONALD!" she screamed, "How many times have I told you to keep your hands to yourself?"
"Calm down, sweetie!" Donald answered, "You're my girl! If I wanna feel your ass I'll feel your ass and anything else I want to feel! Stop making a big show that you don't like it because everybody knows you DO!"
He reached out for her blouse and Cheryl backed off. He grabbed her arm and reached out again. Suddenly a hand wrapped around his fingers and bent them back. Donald screamed in agony as the other boy grabbed his wrist and continued to bend his fingers.
"Now, the young lady TOLD you to keep your hands to yourself!" he snapped. "From now on do so, or next time I'll break the fingers off and put 'em in your pocket!"
The boy let go of his hand and shoved him away. Donald screamed in rage. "Mind your own business, asshole! She's my girl. It's between her and I. Keep out of it, or you'll wish you had. You understand me?"
The other boy came right up in Donald's face. "Understand ME!" he remarked. "We are only threatened ONCE! The second time the person doing it wishes very much he hadn't! We don't play games with perverts!"
"I'm not a pervert!" Donald screamed. "She's my girl! I'm only doing what guys have always done with girls."
"You're doing what ANIMALS do with girls," the other boy answered. "Now move!"
The teacher again came up. "What NOW?" he asked.
"This bastard attacked me!" Donald screamed. "I was just talking to my girl and he nearly broke my fingers!"
Cheryl spoke up. "He was fondling me again! I told him to keep his hands off and he was trying to grab my breasts. He was insulting me. The other boy came to my aid."
"That's a lie!" Donald screamed.
The other boy reached in his pocket and pulled out a small recorder. He rewound it and every word that Donald had said came out clear and distinct!
"You miserable son of a bitch!" Donald screamed.
The teacher shook his head. "Come on Donald! I've got to take you to the principle's office. You've been warned about this before. Why won't you listen, son?"
"Dad!" Donald pleaded.
"Don't dad me," his father answered, "come along! It's up to the principle now."
As Donald was led off he looked back angrily at the new student. Cheryl stepped over and extended her hand. "Cheryl Dinsmore," she greeted, "thanks!"
"Richard Hatfield," the boy answered. "No problem. If you need a walk home or anything just let me know."
Cheryl shook her head. "My mom picks me up," she answered, "but thanks for the offer."
The young man rejoined his companions and they headed into the school. Catherine, Cheryl's friend, walked up. "Oooh, it's going to be interesting with them around! They're going to cause all kinds of trouble!"
"I hope not too much," Cheryl remarked, "I rather like him. "I hope he's not attached."

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