Sunday Best by Bernice Rubens Read Free Book Online Page B

fight to get him a square deal.
    â€˜The Parsons affair was brought to my notice by a parent of one of the children in the lower forms.’ The headmaster had already put Parsons in the dock. He had robbed him of his title and reduced him to a case. ‘The parents shall be nameless,’ the headmaster went on, ‘but I feel it pertinent to the case to tell you that the child concerned is one of our coloured quota.’
    I wondered how this fact in any way shed new light on the matter, or new dark, as the case may be.
    â€˜I intend to make an issue of the case simply because the child concerned is coloured, and I want it to be known that the cudgels will be taken up on behalf of any pupil, irrespective of his race or creed.’
    â€˜I fail to see, Headmaster, that the colour of the child concerned is in any way relevant, and why a larger issue should be made of the case simply because of this factor.’ I was pushing my luck, I knew, but an innocent man, or rather, an acquitted man gains strength and courage to defend others, and at that moment I would have devoted my entire life to the cause of Parsons’s acquittal.
    The Reverend Richard Baines was not pleased. ‘You and I, Mr Verrey Smith,’ he said with loaded tolerance, ‘do not see eye to eye on some matters. I have no intention of arguing the point. To me, the colour of the child is a decisive factor. There is no point in pretending that we are all the same and that society draws no distinction. I make an issue of the colour of the child in order to underline the justice of my system.’
    I was happy for the Cloth that he had at last found his pet little nigger. I sneered as audibly as my position would allow,as much at Baines as at the other members of the staff who seemed to find nothing unsavoury in his very own brand of discrimination.
    â€˜If you would allow me to continue, Mr Verrey Smith. I hope you understand of course that I am under no obligation whatsoever to divulge this story to my staff, but I believe that this is a school problem and should be understood by all those in authority.’
    If he thought he was putting me in my place, he was mistaken. I was prepared to hold my tongue only as long as he had his say.
    â€˜The child’s mother complained that over the past few weeks the boy has been very sullen and given to fits of rage. It appears that a few days ago the child, at the end of his tether, confided his problem to his mother. It would seem that Mr Parsons had a daily assignment with the boy after school hours behind the maintenance shed in the playground. I leave it to your imagination what the nature of that assignment was.’ Then, after a pause, doubtful that we had imagination enough, or perhaps because he himself relished the telling, he added, ‘In fact, the child was brutally assaulted. With or without his consent is an irrelevancy.’
    A unanimous gasp from the staff, from all except myself and Mr Hood, who whistled instead. In the extreme circumstances, the Reverend was willing to overlook his music master’s eccentricities.
    â€˜I am very concerned with the matter,’ the headmaster went on, ‘because there may be other boys involved, coloured or otherwise, Mr Verrey Smith.’
    I held my tongue. What else could I do? If you defend a pervert vociferously enough, the backlash could be on you. You could well be accused of obliquely defending yourself. I was beginning to lose appetite for the Parsons campaign, and I disliked myself a little for my cowardice. The headmaster was at it again. ‘I want you all to be on the look-out in your classes for any unaccountable sullenness, to investigate it as delicately as possible and to bring all your findings to me. Boys are secretive about this sort of thing. They are ashamed and fear recriminations. But often a sensitive boy will break down under the strain, and I want you all to keep your eyes and ears open. Any seemingly