“‘Ye cannae sleep yir brains to train oil, ya balloons. Rise and shine and quit yir greetin’.’ The gibberish soaked into my brain and dragged me reluctantly to consciousness. I glanced at my watch. It was five-thirty. Was the dorm on fire? Was there some emergency that would explain why a short, hairy-limbed, bald-headed madman was yelling garbage at us in the middle of the night? I struggled up in bed and tried to peel the sleep from my eyes. Maybe it was a nightmare. It was, but unfortunately ...it was a waking one. Jimmy paced up and down. Even in the darkness I could see his face, as red as a traffic light. From all around came groans and mumbles as seven kids reluctantly greeted a new day. ‘Fifteen minutes,’ roared Jimmy. I was grateful he’d switched to English. ‘Ootside by then or ye’ll be daein’ push-ups.’ This time we were punctual. The general feeling was that Jimmy didn’t bluff. We huddled together in the dark. Seven miserable, freezing kids and two perky instructors.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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