Ravi's Revenge

By Heather Anne Hunter

Seventeen-year-old Ravi is ostracized in a merciless milieu, a typical suburban high school. He's an easy target for persecution on-line, at school and on the street. In trouble at home and at school, friendless and addicted to alcohol (his only escape), he is sent to a treatment center and is making progress until a series of events brings the combustible cast of characters together in a harrowing climax.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483527727

Book preview

expertise.

Chapter 1

Ravi awoke to the sound of rain drumming on the roof. No light showed in the crack between his bedroom curtains. Groggily he glanced at his clock radio. The glowing red numbers said 9:20 a.m. He came to with a start.

Oh, shit! he rasped. Oh, no!

He scrambled out of bed in his underwear and rumpled t-shirt and grabbed his pants from a heap on the floor. His heart was pounding. He winced as a pain shot through his head. He was late for school again. The vice-principal had warned him that the next time he'd be suspended. He would call his father. They'd have a fight when he got home from work. The whole scene played out in his mind as he stumbled down the stairs pulling on his jeans. The smell of toast and coffee lingered in the air but the house was still and quiet. His parents had gone to work and his sister to school. He vaguely remembered someone calling up to him. He extracted his running shoes from a pile beside the door and jammed his feet into them without stopping to do up the laces. The morning air hit him in the face like a cold wet slap.

The rain pelted steadily against the portable windows with a mesmerizing sound. It was 9:30 in the morning but looked more like night outside. Some of the students at the back of the class were already nodding off. Ms. Beaumont was standing at the front dangling a text book in one hand at her side. She stared upwards squinting, thinking of another way to explain her point. Suddenly the P.A. clicked on. She looked annoyed by the interruption and stopped teaching.

WE ARE IN LOCK-DOWN! HOLD AND SECURE! The stern voice of the vice-principal resonated throughout the classroom.

Instantly Ms. Beaumont's manner changed. She sprang into action running towards the door at the back of the portable fumbling in her pocket for her keys. Her eyes showed alarm.

Quickly, Amy, James, close the drapes.

Two students jumped up and started pulling on the curtain cords while their teacher locked the door from the outside. She slapped the light switch and the room was plunged into darkness. The students sat silently until their pupils adjusted. Then one by one they started to whisper.

Stop talking, their teacher demanded in a stage whisper. Put your heads down on your desks. Don't speak until the lock-down is lifted.

The students fell silent. They were not used to this commanding tone. Resting their heads on their arms, they communicated to their neighbours with their eyes. They grew more and more nervous as time went on waiting for what would come next. Everyone jumped when footsteps approached the portable and someone tried the door. Five long minutes elapsed.

Then the P.A. crackled and the voice of the vice-principal came on again, this time with a lighter tone. The lock-down is now over. I want to thank everyone for your cooperation. Staff members who did not follow proper procedure will receive a memo in their mailboxes.

The class erupted into relieved chatter.

Man, I was scared. I thought it was for real!

Ah, I knew it was a drill!

Not me. They had a real one at my cousin's school last week. They were locked down for three hours just because a guy showed a knife to another guy.

Man, I would have pissed myself if I had to go that long.

So, like we can't even go to the washroom if we have to go really badly? Janis asked Ms. Beaumont indignantly.

Of course not. If there was a real threat outside, would you want to go out? We have to wait for the police to come. It's up to them to release us from a real lock-down. They have to check over the whole school first.

Well, I guess I'll just have to wet my pants, Janis shrugged. She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes, much to the amusement of the students sitting around her.

You did very well, Helen Beaumont said to the class. Just remember that we need to stay very quiet and not attract any attention to ourselves. I don't want to scare you, but you all know that there have been school shootings, not only in United States but also here in Canada. Remember the Montreal Massacre?

They didn't. They weren't even born when it happened which seemed like yesterday to her. She never missed a teachable moment.

Marc Lepine, a deranged 25 year old man, shot and killed 14 female Engineering students and wounded 13 others at Ecole Polytechnique in 1989. Then, quite a few years later, I think it was in 2006, a gunman attacked students at Dawson College in Montreal.

A rumble went through the class as the students, bored with long ago events, started sharing more recent lock-down stories that had happened in nearby schools, one-upping one another. Ms. Beaumont started waving her hands at the front of the class to get their attention.

"Okay, we've had a little break. Now, let's get back to the lesson. Imagery is always on the final exam." The threat worked. They settled down to listen.

Her voice became a steady drone in the background as Sean stared blankly out the window at the rain coming down in sheets. Crossing the muddy football field diagonally in a long-legged aboriginal lope was a dark figure with flowing shoulder-length hair. Sean leaned closer as he watched the person approach. He wasn't even wearing a jacket.

As Ravi neared the portable a feeling of dread grew with each step and his pace slowed. His face was set in a grimace. He was bracing himself, not against the wind, but against the inevitable stares and snickers he'd be met with.

So, that's imagery. You focus on the subject as you read, but see something else in the back of your mind at the same time. Right, Sean?

Huh

What's so interesting outside? Am I boring you?

Sean gave a little snicker which answered her question. She ignored the insolence, took a breath and continued in a slightly louder more animated voice to regain their attention.

The door of the portable creaked as it opened. A cold draft swept down the rows and curled around the students' feet. Fiona, a thin Chinese girl sitting in the middle of the class, shuddered and said, brrr, as she hugged herself. The teacher glanced at the clock and sighed as Ravi slid sideways down the aisle to his seat leaving a trail of mud. Rain dripped from his long bangs which nearly covered his eyes. His shirt clung to his back. A puddle started forming around his feet. Chills shook his emaciated body in little spasms. Ms. Beaumont's eyes grew concerned but she looked away aware that some of the students were expecting and hoping for a confrontation. In an artificially chipper voice, she continued.

"Let me give you an example: Life is a school of suffering. Each day brings a new lesson. Each year adds another volume to the memory's library. So, what two subjects were mentioned?

The students looked blankly at her. They had been preoccupied by the distraction and weren't listening. Janis was leaning conspicuously from her seat to inspect the muddy floor.

Sean muttered to her, Teacher's pet is late again.

Janis looked from the late-comer to the teacher who met her stare.

"Janis? … Life is a school of suffering?" What two things are being compared in my example?

How should I know?

Just guess, Ms. Beaumont coaxed.

Janis shrugged in a manner that said she didn't know and couldn't care less. She resented being asked to answer. She considered it being picked on.

Ms. Beaumont turned away and repeated the question. What's the main idea?

The small girl in the middle row slowly and cautiously raised her hand.

Yes, Fiona? said Ms. Beaumont with relief.

"Life?" she said with a huge question mark.

Yes, that's right. Excellent! And the other subject you see in the background? Ms. Beaumont looked hopefully around the room.

Without raising his hand or even looking up, Ravi said flatly, School. No question mark.

Great. In your mind's eye, the subject, life, is being projected onto the image of a school like a backdrop. So, I used school imagery. You see? Ms. Beaumont sounded triumphant and exasperated at the same time. She had finally gotten her point across, but some days it was like pulling teeth. She went on. Now, can anyone continue my example? She stopped and scanned the class hopefully. She sighed audibly when no one volunteered.

Death is our graduation, said the same expressionless voice.

Wow, that's good, dark but good. Ms. Beaumont beamed at Ravi.

A couple of students turned their sceptical gazes on him, failing to be impressed. Then a few kids started shuffling and jamming their books into their back-packs after glancing at the clock.

Oh, gee, look at the time! Time flies when you're having fun, said Ms. Beaumont. No one laughed at her old joke.

For tomorrow—

The whole class groaned.

"For tomorrow, I want you to find a poem that you like, something meaningful, not a rhyme or a limerick. Look through your poetry text tonight for homework. Sit down! Class is not over yet. Are there any questions?" She was flustered. Her perfectly timed lesson had gone overtime due to the interruptions.

The students were sitting on the edge of their chairs wanting to go when Ravi spoke. They turned and glared at him.

Can I bring a poem that I wrote?

Oh, um, we're going to write poetry a little later on, but I'd love to see it. Bring your favourite published poem to work with tomorrow. Do you have one?

The other students fidgeted and some started getting up. Ms. Beaumont put her hand up like a stop sign and stepped forward.

Just a minute. We haven't finished yet.

The class looked daggers at Ravi.

What about Hamlet's 'To be or not to be' speech? he asked.

Wonderful! she answered hurriedly as she looked out the window at her next group of students milling around the door in the rain anxious to come in. Dying to get out, her first period class sounded like a stable on fire.

Okay. See you tomorrow, she said over the commotion.

The students leapt from their seats and converged on the door. It banged open with a gust of wind. Swearing could be heard as they plunged into the cold March air pulling their coats tightly around themselves. Ravi was last.

Ravi?

He stopped on his way down the aisle without turning around.

Why were you late again?

He shrugged in response.

She summoned her most authoritarian tone, Well, I can't keep ignoring it. We do have to follow the rules. I can't allow everyone to come in when they please.

Sorry, he whispered with his back still to her.

Her tone instantly softened. Okay, try hard to get here on time tomorrow. And where's your coat? It's not Spring yet.

He disappeared out of the door leaving his teacher looking after him with sadness in her eyes as the next group of jostling students filled the room again for her second class.

Chapter 2

Janis was sitting in the cafeteria peering into her lunch bag. She poked around inspecting its contents and pulled out a juice box. As she wrestled with the straw glued to the side of the box, Fiona came and sat beside her. She looked like a little kid in black leggings, T-shirt and running shoes.

So wasn't that lock-down drill a pain this morning?

I love drills. They make class shorter, said Janis with a shrug.

So, what have you got for lunch?

A ham sandwich. My mom gives me the same thing everyday. I'm not going to eat it. I'm trying to lose weight?

Why? said, Fiona in surprise? You're skinny.

No, I'm not. See, I can pinch an inch. Look. Janis started plucking at her stomach but her fingers slipped away empty each time. I gotta lose ten pounds in five weeks.

Why? Fiona asked, moving her big black glasses up her face by wriggling her nose.

Cause I want to fit into the dress I bought for the prom. It's a size two. Her voice became animated, "You should see it. It's strapless and