FanStory.com - What We See - Chapter 22by Jim Wile

Part 2

Chapter 22

Two months later
Mid-October, 1985

School started for Tommy about a month ago. He’s in 7th grade now. He still works for me several hours a week—Saturday mornings and a few weekdays after school. He’s been buying additional games for his computer with some of the money he’s earned and is saving the rest for college.

I’ve started having dinner with Ginnie and Tommy about three days a week lately and have been chipping in for the food. We mostly eat at their house because their kitchen is much better and more well-stocked than mine. I help Ginnie with the meal preparation.

I was heading over there now. Tommy greeted me at the door, looking kind of glum. “What’s up with you, Tommy?”

“It’s my English teacher. I’ll tell you about it at dinner with Mom so I don’t have to repeat it.”

“Okay. Have you perfected the landing of the 747 yet?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you after dinner.”

“Alright. I’m going to go help your mom in the kitchen now.”

“I’ve got some homework to do, so I’d better get back to it while you’re fixing dinner.”

“Why, is it broken?”

He smiled for the first time since I’d come in. “That’s a good one.”

Ginnie was preparing chicken to fry. A few pieces were already frying in the pan. I went over and kissed her hello and wiped a little flour off her cheek. “What’s eating Tommy?” I asked her.

“I don’t know. He said he didn’t want to talk about it. I’m guessing it’s his English teacher. Seems to have it in for him. He’s never liked English class.”

“Yeah, I used to feel the same way. He said he would tell us what happened at dinner.”

“Good. That’s more than I could get out of him. He really opens up to you, doesn’t he?”

“We talk quite a lot while working together when I’m not teaching him stuff. It’s because I can really identify with him. He’s facing many of the same problems I faced at his age. But there’s hope. I try to tell him that.”

“It’s more than that. He just really likes you, Alan. You’re like the dad he never had. You’re such a good influence on him. I kinda like you myself.”

“You do, do you? What can I do to help you here?”

“You want to put the rest of this chicken in to fry and take over frying it while I make the mashed potatoes?”

“Sure. I’m good at that.”

“You’re good at everything you do… and I mean everything,” she said seductively.

I could feel myself blush a little as I grinned at her. I went for the chicken then.

Tommy was in reasonably good spirits during dinner, and after he’d cleaned his plate, he began telling us what had made him so upset today.

“Mrs. Dunbar must be 80 years old and is a real pain in the a… er, butt. At the beginning of class, she handed our tests back from last week, and I got an F on it. There were all these multiple-choice and true/false questions and a short essay question. I didn’t finish the first part and didn’t even get to the essay question. Then she had us reading poetry out loud to the class. She handed us each a poem to read, and we had to get up and read it to the class, and the class would discuss it to decide what it was all about. Then she said, ‘As a reward for failing the test, we’ll have Tommy go first.’ Why did she have to say that?”

“That’s terrible,” said Ginnie. “What was she thinking?”

“So, I got up there and started reading. I didn’t have any chance to practice or anything. It was ‘Mending Wall’ by Robert Frost.” He pulled his copy out of his pocket. I could tell he’d crumpled it up and later straightened it out.

“So, I began reading it like this, really slowly, because that’s the way I read:

    Sometimes… there is that… didn’t love a wall
    That… sears the… freezing ground… smell under it,
    And… spies the upper… builders in the… news
    And mends the… grapes when two can… press… a beast.

“The kids in the class were laughing through the whole thing. Mrs. Dunbar stopped me after every mistake I made and corrected me. I could see her frowning and shaking her head. At one point, she asked me if I was just fooling around and reading that way to get laughs. She cut me off after the first four lines and said we’d never get through the poem before class was over unless she did. She said, ‘I want you to take that home and practice it tonight and come see me after school tomorrow, and you can read it to me again. And it better be a lot better than today.’

“I sat down then. I was so embarrassed, and I just wanted to get out of there. There was one girl who I sit next to named Callie Lyons who wasn’t laughing like the other kids. She whispered to me, not to worry about it, that she was just a mean old witch and shouldn’t have said that to me. I thanked her.

“I was so embarrassed, Mom.” Tears began welling up.

Ginnie got up and went over to him, bent down, and took him in her arms, and he started sobbing. She just held him and rubbed his back and let him cry it out.

When he finally got control of himself again, she said, “Tommy, don’t go see her after school tomorrow. I’m going to go in your place. I’m going to have a little talk with Mrs. Dunbar about this. Don’t you worry; I’m going to take care of it.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ve been trying hard in that class. I just can’t do very well.”

“I know you are. You just let me handle this.”

I said, “I’ll come with you if you’d like. I’ll close up shop early tomorrow.”

“Would you? Maybe that would be good if you could talk about your experience with dyslexia. Maybe she just doesn’t understand it.”

“Probably not. I had teachers like that. I’ll be glad to come with you.”

“Thanks, guys,” said Tommy. “I’m going to go finish my homework now,” and he left Ginnie and me alone at the table. I just shook my head.

Ginnie said, “That teacher! I can’t believe she would talk to a kid like that in front of the whole class. And accusing him of goofing around to get laughs. Jeez! I guess people see what they want to see, regardless of where the truth may lie.”

I didn’t say anything. We began clearing the dishes.