Plainsong (Plainsong #1)(38)

I’m going to get to that, Lloyd Crowder said. In due time. If you will let me proceed. He spoke evenly to her, looking directly at her. He held up a small pamphlet and went on: But first, I’m going to read to you from the Student Handbook. On page nine. Where it reads, Following are the behaviors that may result in suspension or other disciplinary action. Then I skip down to Level Three Violation. Where it says, Repeat of any Level Two Violation. Use of or possession of tobacco or drugs on school grounds. Fireworks in school. Harassment. Insubordination. Fighting. Physical and or verbal assault on a staff member. Intimidation or confrontation of a student. Theft. Damage or destruction of school property. Possession or use of weapons. And so on. He looked up. That’s the pertinent regulation. The one Russell here violated.

How come it is? Mrs. Beckman said. Russell never had his weapons at school. What damage did he ever do to school property?

Wait, the principal said. You haven’t let me finish. I’m not done yet. Now then, you will want to look at this. He handed her a copy of the discipline referral. She looked at it suspiciously and spread it before her on the table. Her husband and son leaned forward with her to look at it.

Look it over with me, Lloyd Crowder said. That’s his name at the top and the date of the occurrence. Under that it reads in detail what he did and said. Under that you can read what the recommended punishment is and the consequences for what he did. Which in a case like this one here is a period of suspension up to five days. What it says in so many words, it states that Russell has said something injurious and profane to one of his classmates which caused her public harm and humiliation, and after that, when he was called out into the hallway to discuss it, he cursed and acted in a violent manner against his teacher. Which refers us back to the paragraph in the Student Handbook I just read you. Intimidation and confrontation of a student. Physical and or verbal assault on a staff member.

Who wrote this? Mrs. Beckman said.

The secretary made it out, based on the information provided by Mr. Guthrie. She applied the necessary language.

Then I can tell you what this is, Mrs. Beckman said. This is a pile of shit.

Guthrie looked across the corner of the table at her. Do you think so? he said.

Yes, I think so, she said, glaring at him. It is to me. He told us about you. You just don’t appreciate him. That’s what this is about. You got your favorites and he’s not one of them. You haven’t never been fair to Russell since the first day of school. This paper here with these fancy words on it is a pack of lies, and if you want to know what I think, I think you are too.

Here, the principal said. We’re not going to have this.

But this is just his side of it, Mrs. Beckman cried. She swung back to face the principal. She picked up the paper and shook it disgustedly in the direction of Tom Guthrie. It’s only what he says. Why don’t you ask Russell what he has to say? Or don’t you care about telling the truth either?

Careful now, the principal said. You don’t want to say something you’re going to regret tomorrow. I intend to let the boy say his piece. How about it, Russell?

The big high school boy sat stonelike between his parents. He neither moved nor spoke. He eyed the principal.

Go ahead, his mother said. What are you waiting on? Tell him what you told us.

He looked at his mother, then he stared ahead. I never said nothing to her. I don’t care what he says. I was talking to somebody else. He don’t have no proof. He don’t even know if I said anything or not.

He said something, Guthrie said. Everybody heard it. And after he said it the girl stopped reading and looked at him. Then she ran out of the room.

What was it? Ask him that. He don’t know.

Do you, Tom?

No. I didn’t hear it clearly, Guthrie said. But I can about guess what it was. I asked the other students, but none of them would repeat it. Whatever it was, it caused her to flee the room.

How does he know that? Mrs. Beckman said. That’s just his assumption.

No, Guthrie said. It was more than an assumption. Everybody in the room knew it. Why else would she run out?

Well my God, Mrs. Beckman said. There’s lots of reasons. She’s pregnant, isn’t she? The little bitch got herself knocked up. Maybe she had to run out and piss in the toilet.

Lady, Tom Guthrie said, looking at her, you’ve got a filthy mouth. You’re about as ignorant as they come.

And you’re a dirty liar, she cried.

Here, the principal said. I already warned you. We’re going to keep this civil and orderly.

Tell him, then.

I’m telling both of you. I’ll stop it right now.

Mrs. Beckman glared at the principal, then she peered at her husband and lastly at her son. She pulled the sweater down tightly over her chest and stomach. All right, she said. What about out in the school hallway? What about that? Tell him your side of what happened there. See how he weasels out of that.

The high school boy sat as before, sullen and rigid, staring silently across the table.

Go on, his mother said. Tell him.

What for? It won’t make no difference. He already made up his mind.

Tell him anyhow. Tell him like you told us. Go on now.

He sat looking ahead, looking at nothing, then he began to talk in a flat monotone, as though what he was saying was some indifferent and irksome rehearsal. He called me out of the room out in the hall, he said. I went out there with him. We were talking. Then all of a sudden he grabs me by the arm and twists it up behind my back and shoves me against the lockers. I told him to stop it. Told him he couldn’t touch me. Then I got loose and went outside and went home.