“That I do.”
His head was bent over what he was doing. I noticed a red mark on his neck that looked like a hickey. He was a good looking kid. I wanted to slap him on the back and congratulate him. That would be entirely inappropriate coming from a responsible authority figure. I hid my smile instead and remembered the good ol’ hickey days.
“You having trouble with your tie, man?”
“What? Oh, it just seems like it doesn’t want to cooperate with me this morning.”
“Just remember the rabbit.”
“The rabbit?”
“Yeah, man, the rabbit. ‘The rabbit jumps over the log. Then he goes under it, around it, and through it.’ Or something like that. I don’t know,” he said it in a sing-song way, almost like a nursery rhyme.
It always amazed me how often teenagers could use words or phrases like like, man, dude, whatever and I don’t know in their sentences. I am sure there are plenty more, but I couldn’t think of them at that particular moment. Whatever. I don’t know. It’s not like I needed to be taught how to tie the damn thing, I just needed it to WANT to let me tie it. But it was still nice of him to try to teach me.
“Where did you learn that? I don’t think I have ever heard it before.”
“I don’t know. I think my grandma taught me or something.” And with that, he stood up and walked to the showers and turned on the one at the far end of the locker room.
“Don’t forget the rabbit, man!” he shouted over the sound of the running water.
I decided to start the tying process over and sang his little song in my head as I followed the steps. And wouldn’t you know, it worked.
The library upstairs was already full, and the meeting had already begun when I slipped in the back and took an empty seat next to Ron Ward, one of the 9th grade math teachers. Normally, when the staff knew someone was running late, they would purposely make sure the only empty chair was the one smack dab in the middle of the front row. But that morning, I noticed a few more empty chairs than usual.
The school’s principal, Mark West, was in the middle of making a few announcements as I settled into my chair.
“As you can see, we have quite a few of you missing again this morning. Six at my last count, and five of them are out sick. I guess Marty’s toilet exploded last night, so he will be plumbing all day. We all know a nasty bug is going around, so don’t forget to wipe down everything with disinfectant after each class! Can’t very well have all of you go missing with the flu.”
Mr. West continued on, as my mind wandered to the lessons I had planned for that day. I was looking forward to my third period class, American Literature, as we were going to be discussing one of the famous lines from To Kill a Mockingbird. The students had been assigned the book for their Summer Reading Program (partly because I loved the book, and partly because my last name is Harper), and we had already dissected it at great length over the first month of the school year. But I had sent them home the previous Friday with the Atticus Finch quote: “The one thing that doesn’t abide by majority rule is a person’s conscience” and had asked them to be prepared to discuss what they thought it really meant, and how the quote manifested itself in their own lives and the lives of the people around them.
“Luke? Earth to Mr. Harper.”
I realized everyone was looking at me as I caught the last of what Mr. West was saying.
“Wow,” I laughed, “I’m sorry, sir. I was going over lesson plans in my head.”
“What I was saying,” he continued on, ignoring my excuse, “is that Robin will be out again today, and from the sound of things, for the rest of the week too. I know we floated Kristin over there yesterday to cover her classes, but we need her in the science lab. So, you will be working with a new substitute today, and possibly the rest of the week.”
Robin Geary was the English teacher who operated the classroom right next door to mine. She taught the 9th grade English classes, as well as a British Lit class for the seniors. I taught the 10th grade English classes and an American Lit class for juniors. We often pooled resources and brainstormed different ways to get the concepts across to the kids. It was always her idea to take quotes from a novel and make the students examine it and apply it to their lives. She was in her mid-forties and had been teaching for close to twenty years. I was always comfortable knowing she was next door, teaching well the subject we both loved. I hated the idea of substitutes.
“Who is the sub?” I asked.
“Her name is Mrs. Batista. Moved to the area over the summer. She has an English degree, so she shouldn’t have any trouble with the kids or the material. Robin’s husband already brought in her lesson plans, so Mrs. Batista should be all set to go. Just be sure to be there for her and answer any questions she might have during the day.”