Ex chapter 8 - Daniel meets Dorsal Grellman - the brick shithouse

Dorsal Grellman was not a conventional school bully. Such was his proficiency, his sheer despicable aplomb that he commanded gratitude from those whose lives he systematically decimated. Dorsal was a pestilence, he inflicted himself, was wistfully destructive, impressionistic in his awful creativity. He was familiar with remorse as an abstract concept, just not one he had ever experienced. Teachers, rules, pain thresholds, laws were irritating obstructions to be traversed. He had developed a second sense, a bat-like radar for victims and a hunger for their ruination which grew wilder with every taste.

When Daniel M. walked in through Dorsal Grellman’s school gate, for, through his love of the enterprise of school, Dorsal had become proprietorial even jealous of this chocolate box of torture, he could not at first, take in what he was seeing. This termite, in full school uniform, with what appeared to be, what was , a life vest strapped to its back, this sore upon the arse of the playground, dragging it’s schoolbag behind it in the dirt. Daniel was the personification of defeat, his destruction would be an almost victimless crime. Dorsal sighed, Daniel did not merit the premiership quality beating he was about to receive, but it was Dorsal’s duty to inflict it upon him all the same.

Daniel picked through the visual detritus of the schoolyard - a nondescript condominium of moldering vomit coloured cubes, a dusting of random children toiling away at the act of being and in the middle of this picture and looming ever larger what appeared to be a brick wall, wearing a school uniform. Standard brick wall, but wearing a school tie and school jacket, all made of brick and yet there was something strangely familiar about it - it was the eyes that teetered in a perfectly square brick head. They reminded him of his father’s eyes, perhaps not in appearance but in intent. They wanted to kill him.

“What are you” asked the giant of a boy who stood not just in front of him, but all around him. He blocked out the sun. He was the rain. Daniel had never been asked what he was before. and he pondered the question for a moment sensing that his answer was extremely important.

It wasn’t.

“I’m” started Daniel.

This was quite enough for Dorsal.

The punch was delivered with animalistic precision and viscosity of movement. To Daniel it felt like a 1972 Vauxhall Viva with all leather interior and walnut dashboard had fallen off the roof of a car park directly onto his head. His shoes were dispatched to opposite ends of the playground, his right trouser leg was separated from the left so comprehensively that it was never found again and his pants were turned inside out.

His work done, Dorsal departed.

Daniel tried to reassemble himself but he had literally been disembodied. He sensed more than saw that he was not alone in the uneven patch of mossy concrete he currently occupied; there was another schoolboy staring down on him. He appeared to be wearing two pairs of glasses and inhabited a body shaped like a giant potato. Daniel was not entirely certain that this was not actually a giant potato.

“The force is strong in that one” said the boy immediately which was the kind of comment that made people want to kick him into the air so hard that he never came down again.

He proffered a helping hand, causing his sleeve to ride up exposing 3 watches.
Daniel was able to focus on the boy’s face - he was indeed wearing two pairs of glasses and an expression which suggested that he was not well accustomed to being liked.

“My name’s Ferris” he said and sadly for Ferris, it was.

“Daniel M”, said Daniel, who felt like he was standing and falling over all at the same time.

Ferris threw his pustulent arms around Daniel “are we friends now? Yes I think we are friends. That means we can do everything together - science club and film club and tree club - well there isn’t a tree club yet but we could start one and you could come to my home and watch me play with my Star War toys - you can’t touch them obviously, and you can learn to play Dungeons and Dragons - I am a very powerful warlord and you can be my slave and carry my amour and we can swap clothes and pretend to be each other in lessons and..” Ferris was perspiring heavily and his head was bright red, it looked as if it just might implode.

Daniel looked at Ferris, at the rabid edifice of the school and back at Ferris. He began to yearn for the simplicity of being punched in the face

-----

“We are going mountain climbing this weekend” Daniel’s father told him, when he returned home from school that evening, looking as he did so, not At Daniel, or what was left of Daniel after the beating meted out by Dorsal, but at his life jacket. It had occurred to him that a Life Jacket lacked many of its essential life saving qualities half way up a mountain, some might actually consider that it was a dangerous encumbrance.

“What about Baz?” asked Daniel after the initial shock had warn off.

“Who?”

“My brother - your son - Baz.”

“Oh him - he’s staying with Tony this weekend.”

“He’s staying with uncle drunk?”

“Don’t call him that Daniel - at least not to his face.”

“The last time Baz stayed with uncle Tony he took him into Odbins and tried to trade him for a six pack of Stella.”

“I’ve spoken to him about that and he has absolutely promised me that he won’t drink this weekend.”

“The longest uncle Tony goes without a drink is the journey between his flat and the pub and now that actually he lives in the pub that is not very long at all.”

“Be that as it may Daniel, we are going mountaineering this weekend and you are going to thoroughly enjoy it. We don’t do enough together.”

“Not since the whole boating incident.”

“No and I was thinking about that - the problem with the boating incident was the equipment so we won’t be taking any when we go mountaineering.”

“No equipment at all?” Asked Daniel, his heart beating at a rate that was now beyond human perception.

“Well you certainly won’t have any” replied his father.