Pool_1

Scholastically paced way too fast, yet able to keep up the pace, Sissy found herself way beyond her peers and was skipped two grades when she eventually got back to school. That was the next injury. Two grades into a sea of hostility for a girl who was too young, way too smart, and with a big big facial scar. Chuck, six years the junior of her classmates, nevertheless, was her guardian angel. Anybody who called her a name because of that disfigurement dealt with him. He dutifully tried to project the lessons and words of his father to the offender. Good words - justice, honor, respect, decency. But his troubled lips hung on these words. At first, simply being called out by a little stuttering runt, whose cause was so obviously just, was enough to get a comic apology. Boys with basically good upbringing, could not beat up a little kid trying to preserve his sister's honor. But there were others, those without good instincts. If they didn't know that a derogatory slur about a young girl's appearance was vile and hurtful, how would that be taught? Could a little fellow with a paralyzing stammer instruct such lessons? Chuck had been taught on Nino's lap, a man of few words. Nino, a family friend, taught little Chucky that the person who would have you define justice is an enemy. Actually, to adults, Nino was stronger in this aphorism. "Vita non è giustizia. Ma, ingiustizia è morte. Giustizia, se non nel Suo cuore, è sulla Sua lapide. The man who would have you define justice is the man you kill." Nino was not one to be meddled with. The only reign on Nino was Mr. Prio." "Who the hell is Nino - Who's Mr. Prio?" a general fuss arose. Osten was leaning way forward trying to come to grip with the transfigured face speaking in tongues before him. But Marcus smartened, smiled, blinked then resumed.