All the Ugly and Wonderful Things(31)

I went to the table and leaned against his shoulder so he could put his arm around me. For a while, we stared at my report card.

“When I was in school, they used to paddle kids,” Kellen said. “I used to get sent to the principal’s office all the time. Between him and my pa, they used to whoop me so bad I couldn’t sit down sometimes. They don’t still paddle kids, do they?”

I didn’t know, but I shook my head, so he would stop looking worried.

The next day when I came out of school, Kellen was waiting for me, but he’d put the Panhead on its kickstand.

“I wanna talk to that teacher of yours,” he said.

Mama walking through the halls had been scary, her high heels clicking on the tiles, quick quick quick, going to tear somebody a new *. Kellen took long, slow steps that I could keep up with.

In the classroom, Mrs. Norton kept writing while Kellen waited, but she couldn’t trick him into talking first. He could wait all day.

“May I help you?” she said.

“I’m here about Wavy’s report card.”

“I know you.” Mrs. Norton squinted and made her mouth small. Kellen shrugged, but she nodded. “You’re one of those Barfoot boys.”

“What about it?”

“I had your brother in my class. What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I came to talk to you about Wavy’s report card,” Kellen said.

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business. If the Quinns are concerned, they’re certainly welcome to come see me.”

“I’m responsible for Wavy, and I wanna know what this report card means.” Kellen’s voice got louder, and Mrs. Norton gave him her meanest look. When she looked at me like that, I knew she wanted to do a lot worse than write my name on the board.

“It means that we have a serious behavioral problem with Wavy.”

“I don’t know what you mean when you write being disrespectful. She doesn’t smart off.”

“What am I to call it when she disobeys me every single day? I know the sort of young man you are. The sort of boy your brother was. You think defying authority is cool. I don’t see that it’s gotten you very far. I know it didn’t get your brother very far. How long has he been in prison?”

“A while now.” Kellen’s jaw got tight and he wasn’t looking at Mrs. Norton anymore.

Seeing how her eyes burned when she looked at his lucky tattoo, I put my hand on his arm to cover up as much of it as I could. I wanted to protect him, but he frowned.

“This ain’t got nothin’ to do with my brother,” he said.

“Ain’t got nothin’? Obviously you were never in my class, Mr. Barfoot. I would have cured you of that lamentable turn of phrase. One way or another.”

“I just don’t see why you made this whole list. You wrote down, Didn’t eat lunch like fifty times. She’s not doing it to disobey you. She just don’t like eating in front of folks.”

“She doesn’t eat lunch because she’s allowed to do as she pleases. She’s eleven years old and, from her behavior in my class, I suspect she’s allowed to rule the roost. Does anyone ever say no to her?”

“How can eating lunch get graded?”

“Because it represents a serious behavioral problem that you are indulging.”

Kellen’s voice got too big for the classroom. “Goddamn, that’s f*cking bullshit.”

“Mr. Barfoot! Are you in the habit of speaking that way in front of Wavy?”

“It’s not like she’s gonna repeat it.”

“That is exactly what I mean. Perhaps she doesn’t talk because you think it’s funny.”

Kellen hauled himself up and I wished for him to smack Mrs. Norton, the way he once smacked Danny for smoking a joint in the shop bay. Kellen slapped the side of his head, knocking the joint on the floor. Then he ground it into the greasy concrete. I wanted to see Mrs. Norton ground into the concrete.

“It’s no use talking to you. You’re like every teacher I ever had,” Kellen said.

“Do you think Wavy will make anything of herself if you plant a hatred of school in her?”

“She doesn’t hate school. She just hates you. I don’t blame her.”

Mrs. Norton tsk-tsked at us while we walked away. Outside, Kellen swung his leg over the bike and sat down hard.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you. I didn’t even think about that stupid tattoo. I should’ve covered it up like I did when I went to court. I was trying to make things better and all I did was make it worse.”

I shrugged. If I was already failing sixth grade, it couldn’t get much worse.





5

MISS DEGRASSI

December 1980

Lisa DeGrassi only went to the party because John Lennon was dead, and she was out of wine. Powell County was dry and she couldn’t face the night sober. The party was in a double-wide trailer out in the country, where Stacy’s Pinto rattled over ruts in the dirt road until Lisa thought her teeth would fall out.

Inside, the trailer was decorated like a penthouse: leather couches, glass coffee tables, and chandeliers. A trailer with chandeliers.

Walking into the party, Lisa expected the worst—bad music and people she knew. The Rolling Stones played at high volume, while people danced awkwardly. Stacy had been right about the refreshments on offer, though. There was a bar full of booze, free for the taking, and a coffee table cluttered with bongs and pipes and pills. The kind of party Lisa never went to, because she was always afraid of running into a student’s parents.