Garrosh was coloring outside the lines as Naz stepped into the principal, mr Trias, office. The eight year old kid, Naz son, was too busy to care about the rest of the world. All he did was give Naz a quick look before grabbing a red pen and continue his work, tongue firmly placed in the corner of his mouth.
Mr Trias was more than aware of his surroundings. Naz didn’t even have time to open his mouth before Trias stood up from behind his desk and extended his hand. The office – walls covered with posters and diplomas, bookshelves and filing cabinets – smelled of ink and noodles.
“Mister Nigthwind!” Trias smiled, a big, teethy smile that turned his pandaren face into a ball of joy. “How nice to see you! Please, come! Sit!”
“Mr Trias,” Naz said. The sense of dread abated. Whatever was up it sure wasn’t something tragic. Anything from ‘your son is dead’ to ‘your son brought a gun to school’ had went through Naz head on his way over. Seeing Garrosh busy with something as peaceful as a coloring book was a big relief. Wich left the big question: “What’s this all about!?”
Trias smile brightened. He sat down, adjusting his velvet three-piece courdoroy suit and black tie, leaned forward and made a pyramid of his hands. Then:
“Oh it’s nothing bad, I asure you. We were just concerned this morning.”
“About what?” Naz sat down.
“Young mr Garrosh there had a … kerfuffle.”
“Not as much a fight, more of a … kerfuffle.”
“All’s well and good, I assure you. No injuries save some hurt feelings.”
Naz looked over his shoulder at his son and frowned. White t-shirt, one of those “Sha of Happiness” ones, big kids show and all. Jeans and sneakers. An ordinary orc kid, maybe a bit more pale than others but his mother was a nightelf.
“Ok so lemme get this straight,” Naz said and turned to Trias. “You called me to a personal meeting, scaring the shit out of me, because of … what? Ruffled feathers? Who was he fighting with? Why?”
“Billy,” Garrosh said without looking up. “call’ me a boogie he did. So’s I said ‘nah you the boogie’, n’ he said ‘no you!’ n’ me ‘no you!’ n’ he said ‘nuh-uh like you the biggest boogie ever!’ n’ I clipped him.” Garrosh looked up, momentarily. “Tried hittin’ ‘im on the nose but he moved.”
Naz managed not to laugh out loud – but just barely.
“As you well may know, mr Nightwwind,” Trias said and leaned back with a somewhat complacent expression, “we have a zero tolerance rule for any kind of violent behaviour, be it a kerfuffle or not. Now, the altercation isn’t serious but … we need your signature. For sensitivity training, that sort of thing. Wich is why we called you here.”
“you gotta be shitting me!” Naz bit his lip. He took a deep breath and calmed down. “Sorry, what I mean is … You scared the sh– you scared me. I thought it was something, like, real serious.”
“Ah, well, yes, uh … Maybe we could have communicated in a less … But anyway, we deemed the situation important enough for … Well. Now that you’re here, sorry about the possible misconceptions we … uh … Now then! All we need is your signature on this document and miss Kalethas will show young mr Garrosh to mrs Draka. She’s our sensitivity trainer, you see. Wonderful woman, she is too!”
Mr Trias pushed a vanilla-colored piece of paper across his desk and very gently placed a gilded pen on it, giving Naz an expectant look. Naz didn’t move at first, then he leaned forward, spun the paper around and read it through. It was a short contract, typical boilerplate. nothing unusual. As he grabbed the pen and jotted down his name he couldn’t help himself – he snickered. He pushed the document back and said:
“I thought you were going to offer him up to military school or something!”
Mr Trias laughed, a deep, rumbling heartfelt laughter. Slapping his belly he goth is laughter under control, stood up and extended a hand across the desk.
“Nothing that dramatic, I assure you!” he said.
“Yeah, well,” Naz stood up and shook Trias hand. “you scared the light out of me you did.”
“I’m sorry, things been a bit hectic. Frazzled nerves and all, miss Kaelthas is a wonderful assistant but prone to … drama.”
Naz nodded in reply. He took a deep breath and showed his hands deep into his pockets as he turned to his son.
“Uh-huh?” Garrosh looked up from his coloring book; there should have been a smiling unicorn on the page but instead the page was a dull red save the black symbol in the middle – the ancient Horde symbol.
“Son, you know those things … ” Naz sighed. “you know that’s a bad thing to draw, don’t you?”
“Ok dad,” Garrosh said. “Jus’ foolin’.”
“You know we’ve talked about it, yes? About its history?”
Mr Trias cleared his throat and said:
“Right then, well … Let’s not speak of it. I’m sure young mr Garrosh will see his erring ways under the tender supervision of mrs Draka.”
“Son?” Naz said, turning to Garrosh.
“Uh-huh?” Garrosh slid off the brown sofa and snuck up to Naz, hugging his leg, smiling.
“Never mind,” Naz said, hunched down and hugged his son. “not easy being an orc, you know.”
“We’re going home now?”
“Nah, you stay in school ab it more. I’ll get you in a couple of hours. Gonna get your shots today, big boy.”
“I don’ wanna,” Garrosh sighed, let go of Naz leg and jumped from one foot to the other. “Please?”
“Icecream afterwards,” Naz said. “Tigs. And I’m pretty sure Speedy will have a chocolate bar with your name on it at the store.”
“Okay … ” Garrosh sighed. “Yeah cool I guess.”
Naz nodded, ruffled Garrosh hair and stood up. He turned to mr Trias, who just looked up from an intercom on the desk. They shook hands and said their goodbyes. Naz left the school and walked down towards the Redridge bridge looking for a cab. He spotted one, on teh far side of the road. Gauging the flow of traffic, he dashed out into the street, eyes fixed on the cab.
He didn’t see the bus.