Martin

The bell rang and Martin continued to paint. It was just another day in fourth grade, but this day had been better than most. More specifically, the painting on his desk was one he was particularly proud of. It was a landscape of a prairie with gray, snowcapped mountains in the distance. A stream originated at a distant lake and wound through a valley all the way to the vantage point where the sun glimmered off the dark blue surface and a brisk current cascaded over rocks. Only some of this actually existed on the paper, but he could picture it vividly. Lost in concentration he had almost forgot the orange and pear that sat in front of him. His creation wasn't the still life the rest of the class was painting. He was amazed the class was over already and glanced to his right to see the finished paintings of his neighbors - all very similar. His digression had somehow taken the whole hour and now he had no time for the assignment. He put away his watercolors and placed the painting on a cart on his way out.

In the hallway, Martin carried his books at his side on the way to his next class, math. He walked briskly in hopes he would have time to finish his homework in the ten minutes before class started. He wondered how his art teacher, Mrs. Hadley, would respond to his painting. She probably wouldn't like it. "Ug, why do I always do this sort of thing" he thought. Suddenly he felt his books lifted from beneath his elbow. They flew into the air in front of him scattering papers throughout the hallway. Laughter surrounded him and then faded down the hall as he knelt to pick them up. Mr. Gallaway, the math teacher shook his head as they passed by. The rest of the herd diverted to avoid walking over the mess. Martin was late for class. The homework was collected immediately.

Martin had a perceptive sense far beyond his years, and far beyond what anyone could expect. He saw bullying for what it was.

After school, Martin sat in the same seat on the way home. It was the fifth seat from the front. It was a Monday, so he didn't have any reason to stay at school. This day a couple older kids sat across from him, which was unusual and uncomfortable. On what sounded to Martin like a dare, one of them crossed the aisle, took a seat and began making small talk. "So, how about this weather," he said. Then, strangely, he stood in the aisle and placed his hands on the two seat backs to either side of him and looked directly at Martin. With little warning Martin felt a wet spray in his face which subsequently ran down his cheeks and onto his jacket. The boy wiped his mouth, turned and gave high fives to the others, laughing like hyenas. They got off the bus and Martin could relax for the rest of the ride. He felt ashamed and embarrassed.

The next day, Martin received the painting back from Mrs. Hadley. In the upper right corner there was a paper clip with a note. It read "Come see me." More disturbingly, there was a thick, black marking running from top to bottom. It read "F." Mrs. Hadley apologized for leaving the paintings out in the open. Apparently one of the other students thought this would be funny to steal it and make their own contribution. Mrs. Hadley allowed Martin to stay late after school and paint the still life. Martin did. He got an A-. Martin had seen better weeks, but he had also seen much worse.

Ten years later Martin killed 5 hostages in cold blood, throwing their bodies out of the 75th floor of an office building. He managed to convince the negotiators he was "serious" and secured a military escort by helicopter. While being lifted to the airport, Martin ejected the pilot who dragged his last hostage overboard in frenzied desperation. Martin took able control of the chopper himself, but two F-16s were scrambled from a nearby Air Force base. His charred body landed in an elementary school play lot during recess.