As he walked home from school that day, his mind was full of wishes. None of which he knew could come true, but it was fun all the same thinking about each one.
The first one was that Sr. De Paul would up and die as she’d given him a hard time again that day. She was an old woman who once seated out the front of the room, stayed there and when she deemed retribution was called for would say your name in such a way you knew it wasn’t going to be a pleasant encounter. She’d find a reason to call for you. She’d seen you not concentrating, she’d found fault in your workbook, or she just thought you needed a good whacking to remind you of who was boss in the classroom. She’d grab your hand and hold it with more strength than you gave her credit for and whack you with the cane. Once you showed pain, she’d stop.
He imagined her end would be swift and that would mean she’d not be coming back. It was a good wish, but one thing he’d learned was Sr. De Paul was very resilient.
He’d switch his mind to driving. Even at ten years of age he fancied driving. An Italian sports car was his choice, and he’d drive it to and from school and be the envy of everyone. An impossible dream when he thought his parents struggled week in week out with feeding them and keeping the debt collectors away.
His final wish was that Ann George would show some liking of him. She was the prettiest girl in the class and mostly ignored him. No matter how hard he tried, she never seemed to take any interest in anything he did. As it was, Ben Ireland was her beau, and he was the most handsome boy in the school. Even so, that knowledge didn’t stop him dreaming and wishing she’d see him as the boy for her.
By the time, he’d reached home, and reality began to settle in he’d satisfied himself with his wishes never wanting to go too far as there was always tomorrow and the walk to and from school.