“Go to it,” she said without any fanfare but
with a broad smile. “Grade four’s a piece of cake. I’ll be here at
four.”
Sally and I both kissed her. The bright
morning sun was quickly warming the air and the early students
gathered under the tall pine trees facing Tobler Street. Sally and
I were joined by Andy and Kurt about three trees down from the
front entrance. Kurt started grade five this morning. A thin
grade-six boy with a short crown of curly black hair greeted us. He
stood nearly a foot taller than me. Kurt introduced us. Wally
offered his hand, but it was a cowardly shake without any
firmness.
“How come you haven’t been to Wedgewood
before?” he asked in a high-pitched voice.
“I needed an operation first,” I said, “the
surgeons had to removed half my brain.”
Everyone laughed. Una had come up with this
line, and some others, I should recite if I was asked just such
questions.
“I was so excited this morning,” Wally said,
trying to outdo my joke, “that I brushed my teeth with Brylcreem
and put Pepsodent in my hair.”
I could tell he was trying to impress Sally,
who laughed politely. If he put anything into his hair, why was it
frizzed and fluffy. He looked like a goof. A sudden urge to
sucker-punch him nearly overcame me. I looked over at Andy and
recognized that he saw the hatred on my face. I pretended to cough
for a moment to cover it up. Sally and I were in the same grade
with a teacher about Mary’s age dressed in blue slacks and blouse,
with a neckerchief like the uniform. She had a protruding stomach
and I wondered if she was pregnant. Our seats were assigned to us
and I was at the front beside Sally. This was a lucky break.
“Welcome to grade four,” she said without a
smile, or at least her smile was in her eyes and not on her lips,
if such a thing can be observed. She took attendance and passed us
name badges looking at me with kind eyes. I counted the students,
fourteen, nine of them boys. Competition for Sally would be fierce
and I’d never be able to openly show my possession.
“This year we’ll be learning several new
topics,” she continued after her preliminary tasks were done. “In
new math, we will learn geometry and algebra. In English, syntactic
structures, proper grammar, complex sentences and naming of the
parts of speech.”
As she continued, I became alarmed about the
work toll, especially since, everyone around me remained quite
calm. Some of the topics she mentioned I’d no idea about. To learn
so much so quickly was literally impossible. I opened a notebook to
take notes, but Sally shook her head. Exhausted by the time lunch
hour came, I wanted to go home.
“What’s wrong?” Sally asked as we sat for
lunch.
“Aren’t you worried about how much we have
to learn in grade four?”
She shrugged. “It’s almost a whole year.
Let’s go out and play.”
On the schoolyard, Sally and Andy introduced
me to Jeremy Harrison a grade-five classmate of Andy’s, shorter
than him and with blue eyes and blond hair.
“This is Kelly Ann and her brother Shawn,”
Sally said. I nodded. Shawn was in grade three, a short wiry seven
year old, his sister was in our class. “You remember Thomas,” she
added. I shook Thomas’ hand. I’d already met him this summer and he
was a big gentle lad with a nice smile. He was in the other grade
four.
“No touch-backs and no timeouts,” Andy
shouted. “If you quit during a run, you’re out for good.”
To my surprised Andy agreed to be, it. He
jumped from his position and dashed for me, tagging me easily.
Though taken by surprise, I eyed Thomas, but he was focused and
ready, so I faked to Sally chased her for five yards or so, and
then, spun on my heels and dove for Thomas. I tagged him.
“All right,” I shouted in victory.
He wasted no time and darted toward Jeremy,
who he dogged down and tagged by sheer superior speed. Jeremy
cussed and ran for Sally, but she scooted away out of his reach and
outran him even though he put everything into it.
“You tit-less bitch,” he swore when he gave
up.
The tit-less part was true of course, but
quite beside the point. Being nearby, I immediately flew at him,
punching him in the belly and then in the face, finally pushing him
to the sand. A male teacher was between us at once, a fit tall
dark-haired man with a brush-cut. As Jeremy rose, I saw that he was
more shocked than hurt, and was successful in holding back his
tears in front of the others.
“Jeremy, what happened?” the teacher said
surprised, as though the school had never seen a tussle between two
boys in the schoolyard before. Jeremy looked up, shaking.
“I was just playing tag, Mr. Morton, and he
jumped me.”
I offered no comment. I’d seen many an
orphan at the halfway homes on the right side of an altercation get
blamed and receive punishment for getting their story muddled
up.
“Why?” Mr. Morton asked him.
“I don’t know,” Jeremy said with a guilty
whisper.
“He called Sally Tappet a very bad name,”
Andy volunteered. “He got what he deserved.”
Mr. Morton eyed Sally, who nodded. He looked
then at Jeremy.
“Is the matter over?”
Jeremy nodded and so did I. We shook hands,
but before we could continue, another teacher approached and
whispered in Mr. Morton’s ear. She was a middle-aged woman, homely
and with her hair all over her face. I remember thinking that if
she was so sloppy on the first day of school what would she look
like in a week, or even on the last day? She looked like a witch.
Her eyes wandered to mine and she smiled warmly. I knew at once she
was an orphan and knew that I had been one too. I felt ashamed for
her.
“Mrs. Perry has let me know a number of
students from grade two have informed the office of this affray,
so, they may want to talk to you two. For now, go play.”
I hadn’t sat at my desk more than a minute
for the afternoon lesson when I was called to the office. A
typewriter could be heard from behind a partition when I arrived. I
barely could see over the counter.
“Excuse me,” I said.
A tall woman with long blond hair leaned
over the counter. “Hello,” she said in a super-friendly voice. I
could see down her top inside her bra, even to the large brown
nipples of her breasts, and her eyes followed mine, but she did
nothing to cover up.
“Are you Christian Tappet?” I nodded
breathing unevenly. “Just take a seat against the wall,” she added
straightening up, “and I’ll let Mr. Adams know you’re here.”
I’d become excited and wished I could excuse
myself to the washroom, but before I could form any strategy in my
mind to escape, a stout man with short grey hair stood before
me.
“Mr. Tappet,” he said in a deep weighty
voice. “Come in.”
He closed the door behind us and it banged
loudly. My excitement had completely diminished, but now from
inside his office, I could peek a full view of the blond-haired
lady’s fine hourglass figure as she shuffled from the desk to the
counter. He must have followed my gaze. He rose and closed the
blinds.
“Mr. Christian,” he said, his voice rather
gloomy, as though he would expel me at the slightest provocation.
“In this school, we play basketball.” What he’d just said seemed
nonsensical and I noticed that his teeth were different shades of
grey. “Did you know that?” he asked further. I shrugged. “You’re a
tall fit young man and Coach Kray played ball semi-professionally.
He’s good and is always on the lookout for a young tough candidate.
He could do you a lot of good. Are you interested?”
I shook my head and saw the frown come to
Mr. Adam’s face. “At Wedgewood,” he continued solemnly, “a zero
toleration for any violence is in place, including punching,
pushing, and any physical altercation at all on school property,
before, during, and after school hours. When confronted with a
situation, even if you’re in the right, you must use your words.
Instant expulsion follows any infraction of this prohibition.
Basketball practice goes from 7:00 a.m. to 8:30, Tuesday through
Thursday, three times a week and on some occasional Saturdays. Are
you interested in practicing and trying out for the team?”
Suddenly I saw the deal and realized I was
being forced into it. “It sounds like fun,” I said. “I’ll ask my
father.”
He groaned as though he didn’t believe me.
“I understand Una’s the one to ask in matters concerning
Wedgewood?”
“I’ll ask Una,” I corrected myself and gave
him a steady look.
“You seem awfully worldly for an
eight-year-old?”
“I’ll be nine in a couple of weeks.”
“Will you now, Mr. Christian?” He passed me
the phone. “Give Una a call and see if joining the basketball team
would be okay with her. I need to know whether to return you to
your class or to expel you.”
“Expel me? For good?”
He shrugged and then added, “Those are the
rules, they apply equally to everyone. If someone cusses your
sister, you go to a teacher or come to the office and report it.
This isn’t the street and we don’t settle things with fisticuffs.
If Jeremy Harrison had hit a Tappet or an Arckon, he would already
be looking for a new school.”
Mr. Adams left his office for a minute, and
as soon as I talked to Una on his phone, I knew he had already
informed her. “I’m sorry, Una,” I said, “I didn’t know the rules.
At Carling Street, there were fights everyday. It was common.”
She giggled. “I should have warned you.
We’ll talk about it later today. Have you ever played
basketball?”
“Just hoops.”
“It’s a fun game, my full-grown child.
You’ll do fine.”
I rang off and sat down. “Una says that it
would be fine,” I said when he returned.
“Terrific,” he answered with a quick smile
and offered his hand. As I shook it, he drew me near and bent to my
ear. “Just between you and me,” he whispered, “I know a fellow like
you will never snitch on someone. If you have any further disputes
to settle, you do it off school property. Next infraction, there’ll
be nothing I can do to stop your expulsion.” He straighten out and
let go of my hand. “Back to class.”
When I returned, I could see Sally was
visibly relieved and the rest of the day passed by without
incident. When the last bell rang, I couldn’t wait to get back home
to my room. Wedgewood had frightened me. It was far more orderly
and efficient than any other school I’d ever been in. No laughter
or fooling around was tolerated in the classroom and the students
all seemed pure as driven snow, even Andy was a snitch and Jeremy a
coward. Sally brought home her friend Kelly-Anne to play Dresses
and Zoo-Animals.
My room had changed little since I’d arrived
at the Tappets. Stan had told me I could have what I wanted for it
and I had asked for two things: Hardy Boys books, some of which
Lloyd had already read to me, and Beatle’s albums. Stan had bought
me the complete series of Hardy Boys, fifty in all, and they were
in hard-cover edition, their new blue bindings in perfect alignment
on the shelf on the wall above the encyclopedia. I was on book
thirty-four, The Hooded Hawk Mystery, reading nearly as well as
Lloyd had and skipping the words I couldn’t make out. Stan bought
not just the Beatles past records like Rubber Soul, but also their
recent ones, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Magical Mystery
Tour, and even the forbidden double-white album. He also got me
four framed split-pictures of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, taken
in 1960 when they were clean shaven, and then in 1967, when they
wore beards and dressed in hippy clothes. Moreover, he’d given me a
stereo system, with a radio-receiver, turntable, amplifier,
speakers and headphones.
The sheet of homework seemed impossibly
large, as though Mrs. Harriet was insane and cruel, even though she
didn’t appear to be either. Four whole separate sheets of
mathematical problems were attached to other sheets of mazes,
word-searches, and a map of the United States of America where you
had to print in the fifty states and their capitals.
Besides the homework sheets, I had to read a
book, and give a ten-sentence written response to it and edit a
composition for spelling. I turned on my electric calculator as
Stan had shown me, and did the four sheets of arithmetic quickly.
I’d a small library of atlases, dictionaries, and an illustrated
wildlife encyclopedia. I took out an atlas and named the fifty
states and their capitals. This assignment took the longest. I
followed it up with a ten sentence reaction to the last Hardy Boys’
book I’d finished two weeks ago, The Secret of Wildcat Swamp, which
I remembered particularly well.
My sentences were concise and short, such
as, ‘Frank and Joe thought the secret of Wildcat swamp was a prize.
It turned out to be really surprising when they found out it was
actually a wildcat who lived there.’ I checked the spelling of two
words in the dictionary. The maze took me less than a minute, but
the word-search, only a dozen words had to be found, took me until
supper, over an hour, and twice I came close to tearing it to
shreds.
How was I to survive with this much work
everyday, and now, added to it the fact I’d to play basketball
every morning and had to get up at six o’clock? My brain spun with
the events of the last months. In the kitchen, Una was decorating a
chocolate cake. I groaned and sat down at the island, greedily
eyeing the icing bowl and also feeling dejected.
“Mary and Stan are dining out tonight,” Una
said. “This baby’s all ours.” She looked up. “What’s wrong, my
full-grown child? Is the first day of school a disappointment?”
I began to tell her the story of the
altercation, but became certain that she already knew even the
small details; Andy must have already told her. Una and Andy had a
close relationship and talked about everything. I’d already heard
that anything out of the ordinary occurring at Wedgewood got home
or into the ears of parents at once. I would need to be on my guard
every day; the school was potentially full of spies.