School Challenge by Aingeal
May. 17th, 2006 10:23 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ds_flashfictionTitle: Self from Self
Author: Aingeal
Rating: G (it's gen)
Word Count: 1382
Summary: Benton Fraser is alone in the classroom, waiting.
Notes: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lozenger8 for betaing this for me and for suggesting the title.
Self from Self
Benton Fraser concentrated. His brow furrowed and his nose scrunched up. His tongue peeked out as he focussed on the piece of paper in front of him. The eight year old worked hard on the project his teacher had set him and his other classmates.
What made this project important was that it was for his father. Of course, over the last few months the class had made various things for their parents; Christmas cards and decorations, Easter cards, pictures of flowers and cakes. All but the latter were at home waiting for his Dad to pick them up and look at them. Ben hoped he’d like this project, a folded paper box, decorated with colour, as much.
It had been months since his father had gone out at first snow. Benton had stayed with his grandparents. Spring break-up was here now, the snow was melting and the ice disappearing. A message from his father told him that he would be there to pick him up at the end of the school day.
Ben knew his Dad kept his promises so he wasn’t worried when, at the end of the school day, one by one, the rest of his classmates disappeared with their boxes and went home with their parents. His father did a very important job and Benton had realised that Constable Robert Fraser was out there helping people, he understood that. Ben knew he would come.
His teacher didn’t seem so sure and said she thought about asking Ben’s Grandmother to come and take him home but Benton told her his Dad would come, he had to. To distract him, his teacher encouraged him to help her out in the classroom. He rearranged the books in alphabetical order. He had wanted to try to implement the Dewey decimal system that his Grandmother used in her library but there weren’t really enough books to do that.
He straightened the chairs, making sure they were stacked neatly in the corner. He was careful to make sure the chairs in each pile all matched. He also got the chalk dust out of the erasers, this made him sneeze, but luckily he had his handkerchief with him. His grandmother had always told him to carry a clean handkerchief, just in case.
Having done all that had to be done in the classroom, Ben found himself staring out of the window. He tried to see the shape of his father in the distance but he couldn’t see him yet. Ben sighed against the glass and it misted up like a cloud or fog. There was still a lot of snow outside even though the sun was shining down and melting it. Ben wasn’t sad to see the snow go. He was sad when it started falling again. It didn’t look that cold outside although Ben knew it was.
His teacher came up behind him and suggested he draw a picture for his father, something to say ‘welcome home’. Ben thought this was a good idea and accepted the challenge offered. She gave him a large piece of paper, a pencil and some crayons and left him to it.
So in a classroom all by himself, young Ben began to draw. He knew he wasn’t the best in class at art but he kept practising at home and he knew practice made personal best. His grandmother had always told him that anyway and Ben knew she was a very wise lady. She’d been a teacher too.
He picked up the black crayon and got to work drawing a horse. It wasn’t quite right. He had always struggled to draw animals and horses were tricky. He was also drawing a horse he’d seen before, the one he had seen his Dad riding in a parade when he was five. He had stood there holding his Mum’s hand. watching his Dad ride by in a parade of Mounties, proud and tall.
They had done a project on Mounties one week and Ben had told the class all the stories about his Dad and about the history of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Most of his classmates had seen Mounties but they didn’t really know as much about them as Ben did. Even Constable Frobisher’s daughter, Julie, said she didn’t know as much as Ben did.
Ben concentrated on drawing his Dad. He picked up the red crayon. He knew the red serge his Dad wore was special, he only wore it on special occasions like parades or the Queen’s birthday. Once he had come home wearing it for Ben’s birthday and had said it was because Ben’s birthday was just as special as the Queen’s. He even helped Ben blow out the candles. Ben thought the red crayon wasn’t really red enough so he pressed it harder on the paper.
When he finished the tunic he drew his Dad’s uniform pants. He coloured them blue but he felt the blue wasn’t dark enough so he added a bit of black. A lot of people thought that the RCMP trousers were black but Ben knew they were navy blue, he had clung onto his Dad’s as he played peek a boo with his mother when he was little.
He used the brown crayon to carefully draw his father’s Stetson. He didn’t see his Dad wearing it all that much, his father preferred a warm fur hat in the cold winter, but Ben liked the Stetson. Sometimes he would get it from his father’s closet and try it on. He was very careful not to damage it, his Dad still needed it for special occasions. Once he had been caught wearing it but his Dad hadn’t been mad at him, he’d smiled.
He’d even taken the Stetson into show and tell one day, with his Dad’s permission. The other children had all wanted to try it on but Ben had protected it. He didn’t want it to get damaged. One of the older boys had tried to take it from him but Ben had fought him off and the Stetson had stayed safe.
When he was finished, Ben looked back at the picture and smiled. The picture wasn’t perfect but it was very good. Happy with his work he picked up the red crayon again and proudly wrote ‘Dad’ across the bottom. He hoped he would like it. He showed it to his teacher now it was finished and she smiled and told him she was sure his father would appreciate it.
With the picture in hand he went and stood by the school door, sure his Dad would appear at any time. After a while he felt tired so he sat near the door on one of the benches there. He wondered why his Dad was so late and he noticed that his teacher looked worried. Nothing bad had happened, had it?
Then he saw someone coming to the door. They were wearing a thick coat. Even though it wasn’t winter anymore, it was still cold. Ben could see them through the glass and stood up.
“Hi, Ben,” his grandmother said as she came in.
“Where’s Dad?”
“I’m sorry, Ben, he had to go back to work for a few more days,” his grandmother explained before going to talk to his teacher.
Ben could feel the tears welling up but he didn’t let them fall. His Dad was busy doing important work, it was not time to cry.. He had just wanted to show his Dad his new school. He’d only been here a few months but he liked it here. Some of his pictures were on the wall.
That was going to have to wait though. Ben was sure there would be another chance. He’d take his picture home with him and when his Dad came home, Ben would give it to him. He carefully folded it up and put it in his pocket.
Ben put his coat on and collected his bag. He was quiet as he let his grandmother lead him home though he waved to his teacher. He looked back at the school. He would be there tomorrow morning and when the other children stayed outside to say goodbye to their parents Ben would be inside, ready to start the school day.
Author: Aingeal
Rating: G (it's gen)
Word Count: 1382
Summary: Benton Fraser is alone in the classroom, waiting.
Notes: Many thanks to
lozenger8 for betaing this for me and for suggesting the title. Self from Self
Benton Fraser concentrated. His brow furrowed and his nose scrunched up. His tongue peeked out as he focussed on the piece of paper in front of him. The eight year old worked hard on the project his teacher had set him and his other classmates.
What made this project important was that it was for his father. Of course, over the last few months the class had made various things for their parents; Christmas cards and decorations, Easter cards, pictures of flowers and cakes. All but the latter were at home waiting for his Dad to pick them up and look at them. Ben hoped he’d like this project, a folded paper box, decorated with colour, as much.
It had been months since his father had gone out at first snow. Benton had stayed with his grandparents. Spring break-up was here now, the snow was melting and the ice disappearing. A message from his father told him that he would be there to pick him up at the end of the school day.
Ben knew his Dad kept his promises so he wasn’t worried when, at the end of the school day, one by one, the rest of his classmates disappeared with their boxes and went home with their parents. His father did a very important job and Benton had realised that Constable Robert Fraser was out there helping people, he understood that. Ben knew he would come.
His teacher didn’t seem so sure and said she thought about asking Ben’s Grandmother to come and take him home but Benton told her his Dad would come, he had to. To distract him, his teacher encouraged him to help her out in the classroom. He rearranged the books in alphabetical order. He had wanted to try to implement the Dewey decimal system that his Grandmother used in her library but there weren’t really enough books to do that.
He straightened the chairs, making sure they were stacked neatly in the corner. He was careful to make sure the chairs in each pile all matched. He also got the chalk dust out of the erasers, this made him sneeze, but luckily he had his handkerchief with him. His grandmother had always told him to carry a clean handkerchief, just in case.
Having done all that had to be done in the classroom, Ben found himself staring out of the window. He tried to see the shape of his father in the distance but he couldn’t see him yet. Ben sighed against the glass and it misted up like a cloud or fog. There was still a lot of snow outside even though the sun was shining down and melting it. Ben wasn’t sad to see the snow go. He was sad when it started falling again. It didn’t look that cold outside although Ben knew it was.
His teacher came up behind him and suggested he draw a picture for his father, something to say ‘welcome home’. Ben thought this was a good idea and accepted the challenge offered. She gave him a large piece of paper, a pencil and some crayons and left him to it.
So in a classroom all by himself, young Ben began to draw. He knew he wasn’t the best in class at art but he kept practising at home and he knew practice made personal best. His grandmother had always told him that anyway and Ben knew she was a very wise lady. She’d been a teacher too.
He picked up the black crayon and got to work drawing a horse. It wasn’t quite right. He had always struggled to draw animals and horses were tricky. He was also drawing a horse he’d seen before, the one he had seen his Dad riding in a parade when he was five. He had stood there holding his Mum’s hand. watching his Dad ride by in a parade of Mounties, proud and tall.
They had done a project on Mounties one week and Ben had told the class all the stories about his Dad and about the history of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Most of his classmates had seen Mounties but they didn’t really know as much about them as Ben did. Even Constable Frobisher’s daughter, Julie, said she didn’t know as much as Ben did.
Ben concentrated on drawing his Dad. He picked up the red crayon. He knew the red serge his Dad wore was special, he only wore it on special occasions like parades or the Queen’s birthday. Once he had come home wearing it for Ben’s birthday and had said it was because Ben’s birthday was just as special as the Queen’s. He even helped Ben blow out the candles. Ben thought the red crayon wasn’t really red enough so he pressed it harder on the paper.
When he finished the tunic he drew his Dad’s uniform pants. He coloured them blue but he felt the blue wasn’t dark enough so he added a bit of black. A lot of people thought that the RCMP trousers were black but Ben knew they were navy blue, he had clung onto his Dad’s as he played peek a boo with his mother when he was little.
He used the brown crayon to carefully draw his father’s Stetson. He didn’t see his Dad wearing it all that much, his father preferred a warm fur hat in the cold winter, but Ben liked the Stetson. Sometimes he would get it from his father’s closet and try it on. He was very careful not to damage it, his Dad still needed it for special occasions. Once he had been caught wearing it but his Dad hadn’t been mad at him, he’d smiled.
He’d even taken the Stetson into show and tell one day, with his Dad’s permission. The other children had all wanted to try it on but Ben had protected it. He didn’t want it to get damaged. One of the older boys had tried to take it from him but Ben had fought him off and the Stetson had stayed safe.
When he was finished, Ben looked back at the picture and smiled. The picture wasn’t perfect but it was very good. Happy with his work he picked up the red crayon again and proudly wrote ‘Dad’ across the bottom. He hoped he would like it. He showed it to his teacher now it was finished and she smiled and told him she was sure his father would appreciate it.
With the picture in hand he went and stood by the school door, sure his Dad would appear at any time. After a while he felt tired so he sat near the door on one of the benches there. He wondered why his Dad was so late and he noticed that his teacher looked worried. Nothing bad had happened, had it?
Then he saw someone coming to the door. They were wearing a thick coat. Even though it wasn’t winter anymore, it was still cold. Ben could see them through the glass and stood up.
“Hi, Ben,” his grandmother said as she came in.
“Where’s Dad?”
“I’m sorry, Ben, he had to go back to work for a few more days,” his grandmother explained before going to talk to his teacher.
Ben could feel the tears welling up but he didn’t let them fall. His Dad was busy doing important work, it was not time to cry.. He had just wanted to show his Dad his new school. He’d only been here a few months but he liked it here. Some of his pictures were on the wall.
That was going to have to wait though. Ben was sure there would be another chance. He’d take his picture home with him and when his Dad came home, Ben would give it to him. He carefully folded it up and put it in his pocket.
Ben put his coat on and collected his bag. He was quiet as he let his grandmother lead him home though he waved to his teacher. He looked back at the school. He would be there tomorrow morning and when the other children stayed outside to say goodbye to their parents Ben would be inside, ready to start the school day.
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