Schorjun

Errol Rollins

Description

There are much highly charged moments where emotions soar and tension rises in the fictional, private learning institution. Situations become belligerent where fear and anxiety grip many. Both adults and the young become overwhelmed by antagonistic outbursts. It had become perennial with no end in sight. There are occasions when staff attempt to resolve the antagonism but attempts were ineffective. It seems a malaise with a need for leadership change to bring order and normalcy quickly but that appears evasive and the situation was definitely affecting the morale of many. It was a challenge operating in such a corrosive environment which ought to have been one condusive to the growth and development of the mind, intellect and body of the youth but that was elusive to a large extent.

Sujets

• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris US
• Date de parution: 17 octobre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781669838289
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Schorjun
Book 1
Errol Rollins

Copyright © 2022 by Errol Rollins.
 
Library of Congress Control Number:
2022918088
ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-6698-3830-2

Softcover
978-1-6698-3829-6

eBook
978-1-6698-3828-9
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
 
 
Rev. date: 10/17/2022
 
 
 
 
Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
843943
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31

To my loving wife, Linda and our children, Errol Jr., Erolin, Erica and Emerson.
Book 1
Chapter 1
Erwin sat in the comfortable brown suite in the living room as the chandelier glowed softly from the cream oak ceiling. He pressed the remote control and flipped the channel of the television as his narrow brown eyes roved the screen. The fleeting blue background instantly came alive with swirling, rippling water. The water swelled with its motion; a straight upright aerial-like object glided through it. Erwin thought he knew what it was; his eyes were fixed on it. Forcefully, the body of water broke, it spouted, then the object surged with a force in the air; its full length curved like a crescent; the mammoth creature gaped. Its large menacing fangs made Erwin shudder. The great white shark appeared suspended momentarily and then plummeted into the deep blue water of the ocean with a huge splash. Minutes after, the deadly creature rose to the swirling surface again, showing its sharp teeth. It seemed ready to pierce the flesh of any unsuspecting prey; it wriggled and swayed before submerging itself.
Erwin pondered the behavior and nature of the animal. He thought of the swiftness of movement and the destruction it unleashes on its prey. He flipped the channel, and flush on the screen was opera, a soprano rendering a song rich in melody. He flipped the channel again. A hot game of college basketball was being played. Before he could have recognized the teams, Margaret walked into the living room. “Erwin, aren’t you going to bed? Mom said it’s time for you to be in bed.”
“I just started lookin’ at the game. I wanna see some more of it,” Erwin answered, looking at his sister somewhat dubiously.
“You heard what Mom said. And it’s already ten thirty,” Margaret said courtly, turning away heading for her room.
“Shhhh.” Erwin sighed, pressed the remote control, and blacked out the television screen. He raised himself almost labored from the three-piece suite. He was quite tall for his age and had recently gained much weight as he developed a habit of gorging or devouring fast food with a passion. Perhaps it was a teenage fad or inclination. Unbuttoning his shirt, he walked toward the kitchen, his steps sounding and reflecting heaviness. He opened the refrigerator and took a bottle of apple juice from it. Reaching for a glass decorated with red and yellow flowers and green leaves, he poured the juice, which settled just below the rim. He raised his heavy arm and brought the glass to his slightly parted lips. He gulped the beverage in one act. Erwin then placed the colorful glass in the sink and walked toward his bedroom.
“Are you still sleeping, Erwin?” asked Mrs. Nichols, her eyes squinting as she stood in the room. “It’s already six thirty.”
Erwin was still snug asleep. He did not hear a word his mother said. She touched him and roused him from his deep slumber. “Erwin, Erwin, it’s time to get up, hon. It’s already six thirty.”
“Uhhhh, mmmmm,” moaned Erwin and turned on his side. He pulled his legs up, his head resting on his left palm; he took the posture of a developed fetus. He pulled the comforter up to the level of his shoulder. Returning to his room minutes after, his mom said, “Okay, it’s time now.”
Erwin pushed away the heavy, blue, red, and green criss-cross-patterned comforter that brought warmth and comfort to his body during the cold nights. With the drop in temperature, the radiator pushed heat into the room, into the home, with a hiss and buzz. The home was generally warm, warm from the love generated by Erwin’s parents and the generator’s flow of heat. Mrs. Nichols had emerged from the bathroom after a shower that was considered therapeutic in its effect, ridding her body and her head of any lingering drowsy feeling.
Feline-like she stepped lightly into her bedroom. She glanced at the little clock on the chest of drawers; it was yet early, but she was ever conscious of the time as the hand ticked. Mrs. Nichols reached for the brown comb lying among her accoutrements. She glided it through her luster of hair. She then sprayed her hair, grooming each strand, setting it at the back of her neck, allowing it to nestle on her shoulder. Looking into the mirror, she seemed satisfied with the style. Softly and meticulously, she applied a coat of foundation to her bland face and then a layer of makeup. She touched up her lashes with dark mascara. She moved swiftly but efficiently. Finally, decked in a gray skirt suit with a rich body fragrance flowing through the room, she stepped into the passageway separating the bedrooms.
She quietly called, “Erwin, are you in the bathroom as yet?”
“I’m going now, Mom,” Erwin answered, still sleepy-eyed.
He edged his way to the bathroom. Pulling off his blue-and-white striped pajamas, he splashed water in his face from the faucet fixed over the white porcelain sink. He shook his head from the stabbing cold of the water, but it was reviving. Leaning over to the right, he turned the knob; the crystal-like sprays gushed from the overhanging tap and splattered in the tub, forming shiny beads along the sides. After fifteen minutes, Erwin was back in his bedroom.
His mother called, “Erwin, hurry and get dressed. I’m leaving. See you this evening.” She was leaving an hour after Mr. Nichols had left for work.
“Okay, Mom, bye,” he answered.
“Bye, hon,” she replied.
Margaret was busy getting herself ready to leave. Mrs. Nichols knocked on her door and entered.
“Hi, honey. Good morning” said Mrs. Nichols with a broad smile.
“Hi, Mom. Good morning,” responded Margaret while she groomed her hair. She was already dressed in a brown flowered blouse and blue denim jeans, smoothly pressed.
“I’ll see you this evening. Have a wonderful day, and see to it that Erwin leaves on time,” Mrs. Nichols said, placing a smooch on the round, smooth cheeks of her medium-build daughter, whose hair, long, lustered and flowing, settled on her round shoulder.
“Yes, Mom.” Margaret’s lips parted; they stretched, revealing immaculately white, even, close teeth in a full sweet smile. Mrs. Nichols looped her black, leather bag across her right shoulder and headed for the door. Turning the doorknob, she stepped out in the early morning trudge.
Erwin doused himself with a light cologne that emitted an apple and cherry fragrance. He donned full, baggy, blue jeans and a sky blue long-sleeve jersey, black sweater, and a bright red and blue jacket that reached him about the waist. The next five minutes he was walking down the sidewalk toward the bus stop about a block and a half away. Margaret left about two minutes after him. He walked along briskly; he arched his shoulder and pulled the straps of his haversack to position it more comfortably on his back.
Through the door of a brown, four-story brick building came Andju. The heavy metal door slowly glided back on its hinges and span and shut tightly. Andju walked along the narrow footpath that led to the sidewalk. He glanced over his right shoulder and stopped on the sidewalk. He turned and fleetingly looked up at the four-story building from which he came. Erwin quickened his steps and caught up with Andju, a slim figure of a boy with slanting brown eyes, compared to the bullish Erwin.
“Hey, son, what up?” said Erwin
“I’m good,” answered Andju, looking up at Erwin.
“I ain’t see you fuh like a whole week. Where was you at?” asked Erwin, giving Andju a fist bump. Gleefully Andju returned it.
“I played basketball in da park like after five o’clock,” replied Andju, stepping off. “You wasn’t there?”
“Ah, I went there like only three days. A got there after seven. The other days I was just flipping them channels at home as I watched TV.”
“I spent like an hour and a half playin’ with Dexter and Terence every afternoon. We left before seven. On Thursday and Friday, Dexter’s mom wanted him to come in early ’cause she had to go out. So all of us left.”
“I didn’t go that early. And I didn’t go on Thursday and Friday last week.”
Andju pulled up a little the zipper on his green light jacket.
“You know Kalo?” Erwin asked, his voice sounding a bit deeper now.
“Who?” asked Andju, probably not