It had been over a month since school started. The weather was still fine, although the sun was shier now, choosing to remain hidden. It wasn't Ferry's favorite time of the year.

One of those days, Miss Summer decided it was the perfect time for the annual class photo. It was a school's custom—the photos of all the students had to be on the big panel at the school's entrance which grew larger each year.

That being settled, the old photographer who'd been taking pictures ever since the school was founded finally arrived, dragging his feet.

He mounted his camera, polished the lens for long, interminable minutes, then he placed the children in three rows. Ferry was placed on the last row in the back since he was the tallest in class.

The old photographer did his work as usual. So slow, that even the most patient children began to lose their patience. He eventually took the picture and then muttered something about the children these days.

But his amazement was to come in his little darkroom in the attic. He studied for hours the thin, tall boy at the end of the last row. His figure looked fuzzy in every single photo. He hadn't caught so much as a single, clear photo of him. A strange glow, like a cloud, surrounded him in every picture.

Thus, the old photographer returned the next week to take other pictures. But no matter how fine the weather, or in any place Ferry sat, he was blurry in every single photo. So the old man eventually gave up and chose a picture randomly to be proudly placed on the panel at the school's entrance.

But the photographer was not the only one to wonder about Ferry. Miss Summer was constantly intrigued by the boy's behavior. She was a young teacher, so she had only been teaching for a few years. But Ferry was by far the most unusual child she had ever met.

At school, he was very good at Biology, Drawing, Music, and Sports. He knew things about animals and plants that even she wasn't aware of. He sang beautifully, reaching the highest notes and his voice sounded like it came from another world. He drew the most wonderful, strangest creatures. If Miss Summer asked the children to draw a house, Ferry would draw an entire, magical world around that house. He ran faster than any child his age, even faster than the older ones. Nevertheless, he didn't seem to show much interest in Math. Even the simplest calculation seemed too hard for him to understand. And the concept of time was just as difficult.

"Ferry, would you tell me what time is it?"

Ferry looked at the clock on the back wall of the class.

"Do you mean the time of humans?"

"What do you mean?" she wondered.

"I mean... Here, we measure time in hours, minutes, and seconds while elsewhere, what we call a second might be shorter or longer..."

Then he stopped as if saying too much. And he could hear the laughter and giggles in the class. But Miss Summer firmly asked the children to be quiet. "What Ferry means to say is that time is a relative concept. It is not the same for everyone. The time might seem longer when you do your homework and shorter when you are playing. Haven't you ever felt that it is never enough time for playing?"

The children nodded. But she knew Ferry had meant something else. She knew the boy's parents. But how could a laundry lady and a worker at the sawmill teach him such complicated things? Ferry was definitely thinking more maturely than any other nine-year-old she'd ever met.

 She also observed him during break times. The weather was still warm, and the children were playing in the schoolyard. Ferry didn't have many friends. In fact, he had only one friend─Matilda Harper, the tomboy. The two always spent time together playing with the ball, climbing the trees, rolling over, hopping, and jumping. And sometimes she even had to make Ferry come down from a tree because he was climbing too high. Higher than she thought it was possible for a human being to climb. 

One day, when coming from school, Ferry and Matilda heard a terrible hubbub on the street ahead. They came closer to the noisy group and saw children from their class laughing and shouting. Billy Pride had pushed Ben Knight and the poor boy had fallen, breaking his glasses and dropping his books. The other children were having a great laugh watching Ben's desperate attempts to reach his glasses. Even if they had wanted, none of the boys would have taken Ben's side since their fathers worked at the sawmill owned by Billy's father.

Ferry couldn't just sit and watch. "Stop that!" he shouted at Billy.

Taken by surprise, Billy Pride stopped for a few seconds, just in time for Matilda to help Ben stand up and put his glasses back on.

"What if I don't want to stop? What are you going to do?" said Billy, looking Ferry dead in the eye and smirking.

Ferry's sight turned blurry. His eyes' colour became so dark, his pupils were barely visible. In the blink of an eye, he was right next to Billy. And the next second, Billy was hanging by his collar, held by Ferry's hand.

"Let me go, you freak," he groaned.

That very moment, the image of his mother appeared in Ferry's mind and he let Billy go. The boy fell on the ground, and then, with the look of a chased rabbit on his face, he bolted away, followed by the other boys.

"Things are not going to stay this way, Donovan," he yelled back at him while still running.

But Ferry didn't mind him. He helped Ben collect his books; the thin, short boy couldn't be more grateful. His glasses were broken, but they could still be used, at least until he got home.

"I can't thank you enough," he said.

"You don't have to thank me," said Ferry.

"Yes, I do. How about coming to my place to study together? I could help you with Math..."

Ferry thought it wasn't a bad idea after all. Other than going to school, he spent most of the time at home. And now he couldn't stay out late because it was getting dark and cold earlier.

"All right," he said, "but I'll have to ask my mum first."

Then, Ferry and Matilda headed home as Ben was still standing in the middle of the street, waving at them.

"You kind of lost it out there with Billy..." the girl said. "Although he so deserved it," she added with a giggle. "But he's going to tell, you'll see. By the way, do you intend to go to Ben's? He's a nerd, you know."

"Why not?" said Ferry. "He seems like a nice boy. Besides, I really need him to help me with Math."

Matilda didn't answer. Once in a while, she hit a stone in her way. It occurred to Ferry that he had never been invited to her place. Nor had she ever accepted his invitation to come by and do their homework together.

What a strange girl, he thought. She never seemed to like him talking to other children. But then again, she was his friend. His only friend.

⃰

Miss Summer looked preoccupied when she entered the classroom, the next day. She tried in vain to smile and do her classes as usual. During the break, she stepped closer to Ferry's desk and tried to look as if nothing had happened.

"Ferry, I'm afraid we need to go to Mr. Bell's office. He has something to tell you about Billy."

Mr. Timothy Bell was the school's headmaster. His jackets were always too small for his big belly and the buttons looked like they would pop out at any moment. Mr. Bell was sweating all the time, therefore his monogrammed handkerchiefs were never missing from his hand. If they weren't used for wiping his sweaty forehead, they would wave all wet in Mr. Bell's hand.

The headmaster was never pleased, but that morning he was particularly irritated. He had received an unexpected visit from Albert Pride, Billy's father. Mr. Pride had made a lot of donations to the school. Hence, Mr. Bell had to do anything to please Mr. Pride. But Mr. Pride was deeply unhappy with the way his only son has been treated by one of his classmates.

The entire morning, Billy has been complaining about the way he was attacked by Ferry the other day. About the terrible injuries Ferry has caused him, though none was visible. Those were the circumstances Ferry first met Mr. Bell.

"This is outrageous!" Mr. Bell shouted, spit coming from his mouth as he waved his handkerchief towards Miss Summer. "It's outrageous that a nine-year-old could attack another child. And Billy Pride, on top of it!"

Miss Summer interfered, "Mr. Bell, first, let me tell you the incident occurred outside the school. I'm not saying that what Ferry did was right. But he was only trying to defend one of his classmates," Miss Summer tried to explain.

"And yet, Billy Pride was the one to be injured. The son of the most important man in town cannot be treated that way!"

"Just because he's the son of the most important man in town doesn't allow him to mistreat his classmates," Miss Summer protested.

"I wish you'd be more responsible and teach your students their places," he said, barely breathing.

"That means to favor some over others and I shall not accept this kind of attitude!" she replied.

 "To me, all my students are equal. And if you cannot agree to my methods, I'd rather quit this job," she added with a firm voice.

Mr. Bell felt the big vein on his forehead pulsing, "There is no need to resort to such drastic measures. Nevertheless, Andrew Donovan must be sanctioned. I suggest being suspended for one month."

"And my opinion is that's a severe measure. If we really need to punish this child, then I suggest sending him to the detention room after school."

Mr. Bell sighed, "So be it! Now leave, both of you! I hope this will teach him a lesson," he added as if Ferry wasn't even there.

Miss Summer went out of the office, followed by Ferry. She was shivering and her eyes were in tears. "I'm sorry, Ferry," she whispered. "But I had to suggest that punishment so you won't be expelled."

"Don't worry, Miss Summer," said Ferry. "I know you meant well."

⃰

The detention room was located in the school's basement. It was a chilly, moist room where there were stored dozens of boxes with old books, drawings, plastic dummies for the anatomy classes, as well as other unnecessary things. A musty scent dominated the whole place. The desks were crowded in the middle, under the pale light of a bulb that was always flickering. An old teacher dozed at the teacher's desk, in the back of the room. His glasses kept on falling when his head was leaning forward. And he was also rather deaf, so the students in the detention room could talk to each other at will.

Ferry sat quietly in the middle row. He was upset, and this punishment seemed so unfair. He was especially thinking about his mother and her disappointment. Miss Summer would have probably called her about his situation by now.

Five or six other boys, all older than him, were also in the detention room. They were among the most disobedient, undisciplined students in school and their visits to the detention room were quite regular. Now they were laughing and throwing paper lumps towards the sleepy teacher who was throbbing in his chair from time to time. Ferry tried in vain to concentrate on his homework. Soon, the other boys noticed him and the paper lumps changed their direction.

"Look who we have here," one of the boys hissed. "It's that Donovan boy. Did mummy send you to school? She should have kept you locked inside. You can scare off small children with that face of yours."

The laughter, as well as paper lumps, grew bigger. Ferry held his fists tight, trying hard not to mind them. It was bad enough he was there, with the worst students in school. He didn't need any more trouble.

When he had that feeling of uneasiness again, he heard a croak. Deep and husky. As if arguing with someone. The other boys stopped laughing and for a few seconds, a deep silence took over the place, interrupted only by the old professor's snoring. Then, he heard the croaking again.

"A raven!" one of the boys yelled pointing towards the ceiling. "How did it get here?"

Ferry looked to the ceiling, too, and he noticed the biggest raven he'd ever seen. It was the size of an eagle, but its feathers were deep black, like crude oil. The head, however, was completely bald. The raven had red, penetrating eyes, and he looked straight at Ferry.

After flying in big circles above the heads of the boys, the raven sat on the top of an old, big shelf. How did he get inside? The detention room had no windows and the only door was shut.

"Maybe it was locked in a cage hidden here somewhere..." one of the boys said.

But that was hard to believe. The boys forgot about Ferry and turned their full attention to the strange bird. One of them, a thin, red-haired boy, began to climb the cupboard. When his hands were about to touch the raven's feathers, the bird started to croak menacingly and took off. The old cupboard was screaking under his weight, and the red-haired boy fell. At the sound of his falling, the old professor finally awoke.

"What's happening?" he asked, stunned by the whole uproar. "What is this bird doing here?"

But soon he realized the bird was becoming agitated. The terrible croaking filled the entire room and the big bird began chasing the children. All, except Ferry. Its big wings were taking down everything in their way. The boys were screaming and trying to protect their heads from the big, powerful beak.

"Out! Everybody out!" the professor cried.

The older students left the detention room in a great hurry, accompanied by the professor. Nobody noticed that Ferry was still inside, holding his belly because of so much laughter. When they were finally alone, the raven plunged in front of him and Ferry could swear the bird took a bow. Then, it walked out of the detention room, its wings folded. Ferry followed shortly after, but the bird was nowhere to be found.

The detention was over, and Ferry could finally go home. It was already dark when he arrived. His parents hadn't had dinner yet. They were waiting for their son at the kitchen table. And that was not a good sign.

"How dare you treat Billy Pride the way you did?" Mr. Donovan started to yell as soon as Ferry came in.

Ferry took off his school bag and coat while his father continued his monolog, "Do you realize how much we have to lose with that behaviour of yours? You want me to lose my job? Who's going to feed us? You?!! I'm not going to tolerate that kind of attitude, boy! I knew that you going to school would bring us nothing but trouble. If you ever touch Billy Pride again, even with a feather, you'll have to deal with me! And if Billy Pride wants to hit you, you're going to let him hit you!"

His father's last remark infuriated Ferry the most, "NEVER! I'm never going to let that spoilt brat hit me or any other child!" he said, gnashing his teeth while fixing his father with a stern glare.

Peter Donovan had a moment of doubt, seeing his son's fierce glare. The next moment, he was making menacingly for Ferry, despite Eileen's desperate efforts to stop him. He was two steps away from the boy when something happened. Ferry saw him tumble to the ground as if someone had shoved him. Red with rage, Peter Donovan quickly got up, trying to remember how many beers he had at the tavern.

"You won't get any dinner tonight!" he shouted before leaving the house.

But Ferry couldn't care less. He rushed to his room, locked the door, then laid down on the bed with his clothes on. Little by little, calmness came upon him and he could think clearly. He thought about the strange things happening around him. Things others could notice, too; he knew he wasn't just imagining them.

A gentle knock interrupted his thoughts. His mother brought him a glass of milk and some cookies. After a moment of hesitation, he let her in. She kissed him on the forehead and asked him to stay out of trouble. Then, she left his room with tears in her eyes.

Ferry laid awake for a while, staring at the ceiling. Outside, the wind started to hiss furiously and heavy raindrops hit the windows. When his eyelids were getting heavier, Ferry could hear, as in a dream, a gentle knock on the window. He flinched, thinking he was dreaming. But then he heard the knock again. This time louder, clearer. Nobody could have been in his window because his room was situated on the second floor of the house. He was now wide awake.

The boy opened the window carefully, trying to peer through the pitch-black darkness outside. Then, he saw it. The bald raven was flying right in front of his window, making the trees' branches move. Its eyes had an eerie, almost human sparkle. Ferry crushed a cookie between his fingers and stretched out his hand with the sweet crumbs. The bird descended on the window's frame and nibbled them without even touching the boy's hand with its strong beak. Then, it took a bow in the air and flew away, becoming one with the night.

I hope you like the story so far. Please vote, comment and let me know what you think. Thanks a lot!