Snippets

Frank Fraser Is Back!

A/N: A page from a novel I am currently writing -Drive For Freedom!  I will appreciate your feedback, comments and votes. Thanks

This story is dedicated to @Palpita, a bright, talented, far-seeing  young writer and poet who cares for people and the planet- bringing her into dispute with her teacher  with her questions. A teacher who is unable to match her intelligence by shouting at her and calling her ideas 'dumb' 

Dear teacher- you have a real gift in that pupil, please nurture and encourage her, don't hold her back. You have already stopped her writing because of your repressive remarks- and that makes you her tormentor, and not her teacher! 

Step over him Pita, don't let him stand in your way. You are bright with a  glittering future as a writer and poet, don't let this lesser person hold you back. Go for it!

                                                      Frank Fraser is Back

'I'm back. ...It's not all over for me after all.'

At that moment Mrs Gerard's thirteen-year-old son burst into the café in a fit of sulks.

'School's stupid. They're supposed to teach you, not leave you to find out for yourself...'

'Graham, behave your self before I take my hand to you, where do you think you are for goodness sake?' Mrs. Gerard screamed at the boy, and then turned to Frank. 'I'm sorry for his bad manners Mr. Fraser, I really am. He's let me down badly.'

Fraser laughed. 'No problems, Mrs Gerard, it'll all be part of growing up, I suppose.'

He turned to the boy, standing by the door, dolefully kicking one foot against the other.

'Well my lad, how's the school managed to get you so riled up?'

The boy glowered at Fraser and continued kicking his shoes.

'Answer Mr. Fraser when you're spoken to, Graham.'

'It's nothing,' the boy replied, moodily.

Fraser chuckled. 'It's not usually nothing that gets a person as upset like you were when you came in. If you need help with anything, you're going to have to ask for it, simple as that, moaning and bad temper won't get you anywhere.'

The boy ceased kicking his shoes, but remained aloof and unconvinced. Fraser picked up his hat in readiness to leave, and addressed Graham's glum silence.

'If you don't believe me, it's in the Bible, and we should all believe in that – Ask and it will be given you, seek and you will find.'

Graham came out of his sulk. 'Yeah, but they told us to find out for ourselves, Mr. Fraser.'

Frank sat down and faced the boy. 'Come on then, what's all this about, young Graham, what is it that's got you all flared up?'

'Well, it's Mr. Courtney, the English teacher. He's told us for homework tonight we have to write an essay discussing a wise saying, but he didn't give us any to discuss.'

Mrs. Gerard interrupted, 'Stitch in time saves nine, I always say, now there's a good one for you Gray.'

'Mu-um!'

Fraser hid his smile under a hand.

'That's not a bad proverb, you should be able to write something really good on that for, ...what's his name, Mr. Courtney?

'It's daft, Mr. Fraser.'

'What's daft about it?'

'Stupid! ...Everybody else will be doing that one.'

The boy went into another sulk and Fraser lightly grabbed his arm.

'Come here, Graham. What is really wrong here is not the subject matter, but the fact you can't think of anything to write about that not only inspires you, but a saying that nobody else in the class will be writing about. That's your real problem, isn't it?'

'No, ...well, yes. How did you know, Mr. Fraser?'

Fraser hooted with laughter. 'When you've been a policeman as long as I have, young Graham, you get to know things without being told. You're stuck for something meaningful to discuss in your essay, right?'

'Yes, sir'

'Good, that's the problem identified. Well, here's something for you to write about. Got a pencil and paper to take it down?'

Fraser waited until the boy pulled an exercise book from his satchel and was sat at a table in a position to write.

'Ready, Mr. Fraser.'

Fraser stood up slowly, he closed his eyes and the picture of Armagan's serene and smiling face floated across his mind, followed by a picture of the pain and distress carried by his father, just before they went into the mortuary chapel to pray for his boy together. He sniffed and spoke in a deep, firm voice.

'For evil to prevail requires only good men to do nothing.'

Silence followed his words, and Fraser opened his eyes to see Graham and his mother gawping at him. He suffered a twinge of embarrassment at their lack of response, and coughed. 'I'll be off then.'

Mrs Gerard broke the silence. 'That's about the weightiest thing I've ever heard said, Mr. Fraser.'

Graham broke out in smiles of enthusiasm.

'Cor, thanks, Mr. Fraser, nobody else will have that one.'

Fraser walked out of the café, mumbling, and the Gerards thought they heard him say.

'But good men doing nothing is all about to change around here.'