Circumstances 43

I was late to detention.  I was on my way there when Gary came up to me and asked where I was going, and I explained it to him.  He got so mad he started off to see Mr. Johnson to tell him off.  I had to grab him and talk to him before he finally calmed down, but it took so long that I was late to detention.

OK, I wasn’t very late.  There was a bell that rang seven minutes after the end of school and marked when anyone sent to detention was supposed to be there.  I knew this because I’d asked someone.  The bell rang just as I was opening the door.  But I wasn’t inside yet, and Mr. Johnson was.

“You’re late, Perryman.”

“Sorry.  I got held up.  But I’m here, and was even inside before the bell stopped ringing.”

“You’re late.  You need to be in your seat before the bell rings.”

“Sorry.  I didn’t know all the rules.  This is my first time here.”

“But not your last.  I’m making it a week, now, so you’ll learn some respect and how to follow the rules.  There’s nothing special about you, Perryman, even if you think there is.”

I just dropped my head, went to a seat and sat down.  No one laughed or even snickered.  They knew Mr. Johnson, and how he could nail them if he wanted to for something as trivial as that.

I spent the hour doing homework and feeling sorry for myself, then took the late bus home.  As ‘home’ was now in the affluent section of town, and as kids living there generally didn’t get in trouble much, I was the only one going in that direction, so the driver didn’t take me home till I was the only one left on the bus.  The ride home, which usually took fifteen minutes, was now in rush hour traffic and took well over an hour.  I just sat by myself, looking out the window, bored up to my eyebrows.

Mr. Jenks was already home by the time I got there.  Gary’d told him why I’d be late.  He asked me why I was very late, though, and I told him about the bus, and said I’d probably be this late for the next four school days, and why.

He was the calmest man I knew.  It was one of the things I so admired and appreciated about him.  But now, I could see he was getting upset.  He told me he thought he should probably have a chat with Mr. Johnson.

“You don’t have to do that.  He’s been out to get me ever since my mother chewed him out and threatened to sue him.  Now he’s gotten me.  I think if I just serve the detentions, it might be over with.”

“But it isn’t right, Keith!  It isn’t right for him to selectively enforce the rules.  He can’t give you detention for something he allows other kids to get away with.  I think I need to explain that to him.  I’ll come at 10:00 tomorrow morning.  Meet me at his office.  Can you do that?”  Although he was still perfectly in control of himself, I could easily see his anger, which of course upset me.

“Yes, I can get out of class then.  I have a study hall at 10.”

He nodded, and, taking his cell phone from his pocket, turned to walk away, but I stopped him and asked if he’d learned anything about my mother yet.  He said he’d spoken with some people, got something set up, and should have some information tomorrow, and if not then, the next day.  “Don’t worry, Keith,” he said, and smiled compassionately at me.  “Sorry, but I’ve got a couple of phone calls to make right now.”

I was glad he wasn’t angry any longer, even though he had been upset on my behalf.  I hated being around angry adults.

I was really nervous about what I’d find out about my house being up for sale, about my mom and her job, maybe about why she hadn’t called me.  Mr. Jenks’ meeting with Mr. Johnson was something else to worry about.  I couldn’t help but be concerned about all that. 

So that night, what with everything I was fretting about being on my mind, I slept with Gary.  I guess I was more upset than I’d thought.  We didn’t do much, just enough that I could relax and then he held me, which allowed me to get to sleep easily.  I didn’t wake up with any nightmares, either.  I’d only ever had one of those at his house.  I used to have them all the time.

The next day, I got a hall pass from my study hall teacher and went to Mr. Johnson’s office at 10.  Mr. Jenks was standing in the hall waiting for me.

We went in, and he told the secretary that he’d made an appointment with Mr. Johnson.  She said she’d check and went into his office, then came back and asked us to wait, saying he’d be with us in a minute.

He wasn’t, and when it was quarter past, and he hadn’t come out yet, Mr. Jenks was mad again.  He did a good job of not showing it, but I knew him by now, and I could tell.

Finally, Mr. Johnson came out of his office, a smile on his face, until he saw me.  He looked at me, then Mr. Jenks, then me, and stopped smiling.

We went into his office and sat down.  There, Mr. Jenks said, “I want to talk to you about Keith, and his detention.”

“You’re not his father, are you?  You said your name was Jenks.”

“No, but I have temporary custody.  I understand you’re disciplining him for something many students do on a regular basis, often in your presence.  Is that true?”

“Definitely not.  When I hear someone cuss anywhere on school grounds, I give them detention.”

Mr. Jenks stared at Mr. Johnson, not saying anything, until Mr. Johnson began fidgeting in his chair, and finally asked, “Is that all?”

“No it isn’t.  I was just figuring out how to deal with you.  You’re lying.  I have the names of several kids who my investigators spoke to last night who have told me what you just said isn’t true, that they’ve witnessed many incidents where you’ve allowed your football players to swear, in practices and in the hallways, with nothing done about it.  So, in Keith’s presence here, you just lied to me.  I’m deciding what I should do about that.”

Mr. Johnson’s face flushed bright red and he stood up.  “Are you calling me a liar?  To my face?”

“Yes, I am,” Mr. Jenks replied, very calmly, “because you are one.  And if you’ve got any sense at all, what you’ll do about it is sit back down and shut up, except for apologizing to me.  Then, you’ll tell Keith you’re sorry for giving him a detention and that you’re quashing the remaining days.”

Mr. Jenks looked at me, then back at Mr. Johnson.  “And if you don’t do both those things, right now, I’ll collect those witnesses I mentioned, and Keith, and we’ll meet with Principal Jacoby.  As a matter of fact, I’ve already made an appointment to see him as I figured you might be a horse’s ass.  I’ll tell him what’s happened, that you were arbitrary and discriminatory against Keith, and that I want you disciplined, up to and including discharge, because you punished a student wrongly, then lied when asked about it.”

Mr. Johnson was still standing.  He was looking at Mr. Jenks, and saw Mr. Jenks take out his cell phone.  Mr. Jenks switched it on, then started punching buttons.  As he did so, he said, “I’m also calling the State Board of Ethics.  I’m on a committee that has oversight of government bodies.  Schools fall under our purview.  I’m going to start an inquiry into your activities.  You’ll be investigated.  I assume I’ll find many abuses of power.  If you’ve ever stolen a paperclip and it’s been recorded, we’ll find it.  If you ever had one of the female students in your office alone, we’ll talk to her and find out exactly what happened.  Exactly.  If you’ve ever touched a student and a complaint has been filed, well, that’ll be there, too.  Newspapers love this shit.  Oops.  I just cussed on school grounds!”

He looked at Mr. Johnson, who was slowly settling back into his chair.  He stared at him until Mr. Johnson turned to me and said, “Your detention is withdrawn.  I’m sorry.” 

He hated saying it.  He hated me.  I could see it in his eyes.

“And for lying to me?”  Mr. Jenks voice was very hard, a voice I’d never heard him use before.

“And I’m sorry for lying to you.”  Mr. Johnson’s voice was pinched, his throat tight.  His face was still red and his eyes were horrible.  I wanted to run, but somehow, Mr. Jenks seemed cool and composed.  Maybe running a large business gave him that type of control and self-possession.

“I never want you to have any further contact with Keith.    If there’s any reason at any time that you should have contact, you’ll delegate that contact to someone else.  Is that understood?”

“Yes.”  I could barely hear it.  Mr. Johnson said it in a hiss, hating having to do so.

“Then we’re done here.  I’ll hold you to that.  Good morning.”

He left the office, and I was so close behind him I almost stepped on his feet.  But the idea of remaining alone in that office with Mr. Johnson had me moving without even thinking about it.