Read On Wings of the Morning for Free Online

exception. He saw her at lunch and they ate together except for days when she wanted to eat with her friends. Otto understood that and sat eating his sausage and bread in the lunch room, thinking that he never wanted to see a pig again. Or a cow, for that matter. He knew his papa said cows fed the family, but being around them every day was a pain. He was glad when the bus showed up to take him to school every morning.
    Several large forms blocked the light from the window. Otto sighed. It was Smith and his gang, who continued to harass him. They didn’t beat him up any more, but they never missed a chance to bother him, especially when Betty wasn’t around.
    “Hey, how’s the Nazi today?” Smith usually did all the talking while his cronies smirked and punched each other in the arm.
    Otto kept eating, saying nothing.
    “What’s the matter, kraut? Hitler got your tongue?” Smith reached out and knocked Otto’s sandwich out of his hands. “Oops. How clumsy of you! Here, let me help you.”
    Smith bent over and rubbed the half-eaten sandwich on the dirty floor. He dropped it in front of Otto, who stared at it with his head down.
    “Too bad you don’t eat American food! It’s easier to hold on to.”
    “I’m as much an American as you are, Smith. Your name used to be Schmidt, and someone changed it somewhere along the line. That is, if your father is really your father.”
    Smith’s face turned bright red. “What are you saying, you little punk?”
    “Just what I mean, Smith. Maybe your name isn’t really Smith after all because your mother is such a whore. Everyone knows it.”
    Smith reached down and jerked Otto to his feet by the front of his shirt. He drew back one huge fist to smack Otto, but Otto was too fast for him and popped him in the nose. Blood flew and Smith dropped to the floor.
    Heads turned toward the fight. Total silence descended on the lunch room. One of the teachers ran over to the little knot of boys. She knelt beside Smith. Someone handed her a handkerchief which she put to his nose to staunch the flow of blood. She stood up. Otto recognized her as Mrs. Miller, a history teacher. He’d heard she was a good teacher. “All right, boys, let’s go to the office. What started this?”
    Smith lurched to his feet. “He insulted my mom,” he spit out, glaring at Otto.
    Mrs. Miller turned to Otto. “Did you do that?”
    Otto grinned. “I sure did. And for what it’s worth, he swung at me first.”
    “We’ll sort that out with Mr. Jackson. Let’s go.”
    Otto walked through the crowd of students that had formed around them. Betty touched him on the sleeve as he went past. “He’s needed that for years. Good for you, Otto.”
    “Thank you, Betty,” Otto returned, but he was beginning to think about the trouble he was in, and not just at school. His parents would not be pleased that he was fighting “like a common ruffian,” as his mama would say.
    Principal Jackson’s office was on the front of the school. Mrs. Miller deposited each boy on a separate chair and went into his office. They glared at each other. She came out a minute later, followed by Mr. Jackson. He had a reputation of being stern but fair. Still, no one wanted to end up in his office for the wrong reason. He motioned to Smith and Otto. They rose and followed Jackson into his office.
    Jackson indicated two chairs in front of his desk. “Now, what happened? Mr. Smith, you go first.”
    “This Nazi called my momma a bad name,” Smith spat out.
    Jackson jumped in. “Mr. Smith, there are no Nazis in this room. We are all Americans here, so I don’t want to hear any more of that kind of talk.”
    “He still called my momma a name.”
    “What did he call her?”
    “It starts with an ‘h,’” Smith mumbled.
    “I was in the Allied Expeditionary Force,” Jackson offered. “There aren’t too many names I haven’t heard. What did he call her?”
    “A whore.” Smith said, barely audible.
    “A little louder,