Editorial
Front Page - Friday, December 11, 2009
I Swear...
Saved by the bell
Vic Fleming
In the middle of the 1960-61 school year, the 10 year-old found himself at an elementary school in a New Town.
His dad had been transferred by his company from the Old City office and had been promoted to Branch Manager.
So, on one of his first days in school, he was getting to know James, the kid who sat next to him in Miss Lackey’s fourth grade class.
“At recess, you stick with me,” James said. “If ever I’m not there, don’t go to the south side of the playground and stay away from the softball field.”
“Why?”
“Don’t ask. Just do what I tell you and you’ll be OK.”
So, sure enough, the first time James was not there, at recess he headed for the south side of the playground, with his eyes cast forward on the softball field.
“Hey, you! You’re a fourth grader, aren’t you?” said a random fifth grader.
“Yes.”
“Better not go over to that side of the playground.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t ask. Just do what I tell you.”
When he arrived at the south side of the playground, he sensed immediately that a group of older boys had been watching his approach. Two of them sauntered out to meet him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I go to school here.”
“Don’t be a smart mouth!”
“Huh?”
“Fourth graders do not come onto this side of the playground!”
“It’s for sixth grade only! You should know that.”
They grabbed him, untucked his shirt and pushed him to the ground. The rest of the group, six or seven other boys, moved closer. They all kicked dirt on him.
One of them said, “We rule this school!”
Another said, “If we’d have wanted you over here, we’d have sent for you!”
Another: “Who do you think you are?!”
He was wishing for super powers.
If he had super breath, for example, he could just blow them away far enough to get up and make an escape.
Or, if he could fly away at light speed, it would dazzle them greatly and scare them, too.
In a flash he’d come to see that his transgression, no matter how innocent, had drawn him into their line of fire. He was dreading the next 100 days of school already.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tall gangly girl run up and get between him and the crowd. “Oh, no!” he thought. “I’m about to be saved by a girl.”
That would be a fate worse than death.
The group of boys stopped what they were doing. She turned and looked him straight in the eye. Then she kicked a dirt clod into his face and, in a low, cold tone of voice, said, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave now, go home and then start over again tomorrow.”
In the distance, a bell rang.
All the kids ran toward the schoolhouse.
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