by Cole Parker
Circumstances 11
Hah! It had worked just like I thought it would. Here was my chance!
“Yes, I knew them. Know them. But I’m not telling you who they were.”
“Huh? You don’t want them punished?!”
“No.”
“Why not? They yanked your underpants off! They stole your clothes and left you like that! They put you into a terribly embarrassing position. A lot of kids have nightmares about being naked in school, other kids seeing them and laughing. Why don’t you want to get them in trouble—get them suspended or expelled?”
It was funny. He had turned to me to ask that, and it was as though he had forgotten he had a whole school listening to him. I hadn’t forgotten that at all.
I tried to sound very mature, maybe even courageous, but I don’t think I pulled it off. I wasn’t either of those things. But I tried. The fact I was shaking so much probably diminished the effect I was after, but I couldn’t help that. Public speaking just wasn’t something I’d ever be comfortable with.
But I had to speak. In fact, I wanted to speak, and that helped. It also helped that Mr. Johnson had asked me a direct question, which gave me the opportunity to answer him back, him and only him, pretending to ignore everyone else. I didn’t really fool myself, but I tried. I knew we had an audience, but directing my words just to him made it easier, somehow. “I don’t tell on other kids,” I said, forcing myself to speak loudly. Then I turned my eyes from him and scanned the crowd. They were all very quiet. I looked back at an unhappy Mr. Johnson.
He looked pissed. It suddenly occurred to me that he’d been attempting to use me. I could guess that he was totally pissed at my mother for talking to him as she had, and he’d come up with the idea of getting back at her by thoroughly humiliating me in front of the entire school, showing the school I was a tattletale in the bargain, but doing it in a way that made him appear to be on my side and doing her bidding. That he was angry now probably was because he saw it wasn’t working exactly as he’d thought it would.
“Well, let’s move on. You say the rumor you were running naked through the hallways was something else that was false, but you were naked after the boys had taken your clothes and left you standing in the boys’ room? What happened next?”
I was going to have to do more talking to the assembly! I hated it. But I couldn’t avoid it now. In as strong a voice as I could muster, I faced them and said, “I wasn’t naked. I still had my shirt. I took it off and covered myself as much as possible, which wasn’t very much, and tried to run to the boys’ locker room while no one was in the halls so I could get my gym clothes. The bell rang when I was only partway there. Then a teacher saw me and pulled me into his classroom.”
Mr. Johnson started to jump in at that point, but I got an idea and didn’t let him. I kept speaking. “He took me to your office for the second time that morning and I told you what had happened again and you didn’t believe me again. You wouldn’t let me get dressed, either. My mother had to come in and straighten you out. She did, got you to apologize, and that’s why we’re having this assembly.”
Mr. Johnson’s face turned so red I thought he was going to explode. He seethed, looking at me. I stared back at him with no expression at all. Inside, I was sort of surprised at what I was feeling. It was something I almost never felt about myself: pride.
I saw something nasty, something evil flicker in his eyes. He turned to the crowd. “OK, does anyone have any questions for Keith?”
Shit!
There was nervous tittering, and then a boy’s voice from somewhere on the left side and far back yelled out, “What did it feel like, cumming on that bus?” There was a huge roar of laughter, and I took a step back, wishing there was something I could hide behind. Mr. Johnson, probably realizing he’d made a huge mistake—he could just imagine what would happen if this got back to my mom—immediately took charge. “Find out who said that!” he roared, and the room suddenly was very still.
He looked hard at the whole room. I’d been there when he’d done that in the past, and it had always seemed he was looking right in my eyes while he was doing it. I knew why everyone was suddenly quiet.
I was still uncomfortable, though. I’d begun to hope maybe this assembly would actually work. Now I realized there was little chance of that, if the boy’s question was anything to use as a gauge of how people were feeling. They were thinking about the sex parts, not about how I wasn’t to blame. Obviously, no one was concerned at all about how I might be feeling.
I started to hang my head when I heard another voice, out in the crowd. Someone was saying something, but it was too soft, and a few kids yelled, “Louder!” and, “speak up!” There was a pause, and then I heard the voice again, and could understand it this time.
“I think this whole thing is amazing. How many of us could have gone through what Keith did, and then had the nerve to stand up in front of all of us and talk about it? I’d never have been able to do that. Keith may be the bravest boy in this school!” And then he, whoever he was, raised his arm up, yelled, “Way to go, KEITH!” and began clapping, and then, suddenly, the whole room was applauding.
I’m a wimp. I really am. When they did that, tears came to my eyes, and I couldn’t stop them. I had to, though. Exhibitionist bus-jerking-off streaker was bad enough, but exhibitionist bus-jerking–off crybaby streaker was more than anyone who was only 14 could handle, and I knew a bunch of them would misinterpret my tears.
So, somehow, I managed to stop crying. The applause slowly stopped, and a frustrated Mr. Johnson wrapped it up by making a case for no teasing or bullying anyone and especially me. He said there would be dire consequences if anyone was found doing so, that what had just happened with that inappropriate question was just the sort of thing that wouldn’t be tolerated and the culprit would be severely dealt with. With that, the assembly was over.
I climbed down off the stage and walked to where a few kids were still gathered, back where the clapping had started. Yep, just as I thought. There was Gary with a big grin on his face, surrounded by kids clapping him on the back and talking to him. He was smiling, and I could see he was enjoying the attention, but his eyes were focused solely on mine.