Wanted

Chapter 17

They both came to the school to collect him. Mr Edwards seemed irritated by the fact that he was dragged along, looking at John with narrowed disapproving eyes, but then again maybe he just was still hungover. She however was only too delighted to be called to the schoolhouse. A fact which angered John but reassured the teacher who was true to his word when he told them both that he expected John to be returned to his classroom Monday morning.

At first when she arrived at the schoolhouse, all worried looking and apologetic towards the teacher for having sent John into school unwell, John wondered if maybe there was a chance that she had given him the medicine by accident. Maybe she put the oil into an empty Ginger Tonic bottle for some strange reason and then mixed up the two bottles, who knew?!

But on their way home she started her insincere fuzzing again and John' suspicion came back "My poor little lamb," she cooed. "Didn't I tell you Martin, that he was too weak?" she asked her husband but Edwards it seemed did not want to engage in the conversation. He still looked as ill as John felt, and just grunted every so often his reluctant approval until she declared that she had no intention on sending John back to school on Monday.

"I told you, he needs more time to settle in, Martin. I don't care what that teacher says. I know best what my child needs, call it a mother's instinct," she professed, to which Edwards replied that he did not want to get into a discussion with her on the street. He told her he was going to walk on ahead because they were walking too slow for him. He needed to get back to his work, he told his wife, and informed her they could talk about it this evening at home.

Mrs Edwards tried to keep up with her husband for another little while nevertheless, dragging John behind her, holding his hand again like that of a little boy, so that John had to ask her to slow down. He really couldn't walk that fast at this moment of time. He was feeling weak, and his legs were still like jelly. For just a moment she glared at him, as if angered by the inconvenience that he caused but then she thought better of it and slowed down somewhat. She continued to seem annoyed with him though, pressing her lips together she no longer fuzzed over him. Instead, she held his hand uncomfortably tight and still walked a good bit faster than John would have liked, dragging him along.

On their way she was stopped numerous times, by other women, enquiring about 'the orphan' they took in and then the fuzzing started all over again. They praised her for her generosity and good heart, and John wanted to puke on their polished shoes.

By the time they'd got back to the house Mr Edwards had already got back to his barn and she sent John to bed for the rest of the day. He was only too happy to oblige.

Upstairs in his bedroom John found that the fox and rabbit once again had been moved from the top of his nightstand into the drawer. The pocketknife and key to his door that he had hidden under his mattress earlier had disappeared altogether. It was enough to confirm his suspicion. Mixing up the tonic and the medicinal oil was no accident. The woman was 'as mad as a brush', his mother would have said, and at this stage John started to not just dislike but downright hate her. All the pity for her now was gone, but truth be told, he was also quite frightened of her.

Something told John that if Edwards knew what his wife had done, he would not approve. The man was unpleasant but not altogether unreasonable, not like her anyway.

But Mrs Edwards was far too confident in what she was doing and seemed certain of her husband' support, no matter what, which told John that he could not just go and tell him. He expected Edwards would stand by her, the way he had done the first morning and when he told him to apologise the day before. He probably would not entertain it, not even for a minute and call him a liar, no matter how much they quarrelled all day. He knew that when it came to his word against that of an adult, it was a battle lost before it even started.