English Lessons

Jack Ewing

Description

In bleak, frigid Western Montana, a high school on a poverty-stricken Indian reservation is the scene of a crime: a valuable pocket watch has disappeared. The owner of the watch, a young white English teacher, plays detective attempting to reveal the culprit. His investigation yields unexpected results. A short story from our Nibs literary line.

Sujets

• Short story

Informations

• Publié par: Untreed Reads
• Date de parution: 14 juin 2011
• Nombre de lectures: 3
• EAN13: 9781611871050
• Langue: English

Extrait

English Lessons
By Jack Ewing

Copyright 2011 by Jack Ewing
Cover Copyright 2011 by Dara England and Untreed Reads Publishing
The author is hereby established as the sole holder of the copyright. Either the publisher (Untreed Reads) or author may enforce copyrights to the fullest extent.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold, reproduced or transmitted by any means in any form or given away to other people without specific permission from the author and/or publisher. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to the living or dead is entirely coincidental.


Other Titles in the Diversity Short Story Line
A Community Birthday by Leslie Vaughn Weaver
At the Diner by Neil Plakcy
The Girl in the Painting by Anne Brooke

http://www.untreedreads.com
English Lessons
By Jack Ewing
“Someone has taken my watch,” Mr. Bachmeyer said. From a back corner of the classroom, Ursula Rabbit Skins studied him secretly beneath lowered brows. The owner of the ugly name was attractive, for a Whiteman. Much easier to look at than others of his race at Crow Butte School: fat shop teacher, balding coach, bat-like science teacher, or stick man principal. Mr. Bachmeyer was only slightly older than Ursula, and was perhaps younger than some in class, who ranged in age from fifteen to mid-twenties. He was more than six feet tall, with a lean, athletic build. He had hair the color of harvest-ready wheat. His eyes recalled October sky before first frost and his cheeks were healthy-baby-pink on an open face like a bucket of fresh milk. His white teeth—so many, no gaps—often showed in a smile. His ripe-cherry lips always seemed in motion. Like all his kind, he didn’t appreciate silence.
He wasn’t talking now, though, and he wasn’t smiling.
Mr. Bachmeyer stood behind his desk, leaning forward, fists braced on scarred wood. His gaze, as cold as wind from Arctic Canada, scythed across each face.
Ursula and her classmates didn’t make it easy for him to establish eye contact. They inclined heads or looked away from his glare, though otherwise sat as still as woodcarvings. Tribal elders said once you locked eyes with a Whiteman, you began to lose your will.
No one made a sound for several minutes.
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