Circumstances 49

I knew I had to try.  This was my chance to stand up not only for myself, but for Gary, too, and stand up against Mr. Johnson.  The kids in the audience didn’t look hostile.  I realized they were probably more on our side than they were on Mr. Johnson’s.  They didn’t like him.  They didn’t know me.  So I was one up on him.  Well, maybe half of one up on him.  But of the two of us, I certainly had more support.

It was up to me to do this.  It was time.  No guts, no glory.

“Hi,” I said.  “I’m nervous.”  Then I turned the mike on and repeated it.

That got a small laugh, and it sounded like a sympathetic one.  OK.  That helped.  They weren’t against me, at least.

“Mr. Johnson wants me to apologize to you.  He may not let me say everything I want to say.  He may take the mike away from me.  He’s bigger than I am.”  Another light laugh. 

“If he does, it means he doesn’t want you to hear the truth.”

Mr. Johnson’s eyebrows were wrinkling, and when I said that, he frowned and took a step toward me.  Gary did too. 

I turned back to the audience and tried to speak faster.  “We’re not gay, and we weren’t kissing.  Gary isn’t gay.  I am.  He kissed me today, but it was just a peck of happiness, on my cheek.  It wasn’t sexual, he was just really happy for me, and was showing that.  I’d told him something personal, something good that had happened, and he was so excited he just got a little carried away.”

Mr. Johnson didn’t like this.  He wanted a confession, an apology, not this, whatever this was.  “That’s enough,” he said loudly, and came to take the mike away.

Gary stepped between us, turned to face him, and said, just as loudly, “You touch him, you touch me, and you have several hundred witnesses of assault.  And that’s what it’ll be, because I’ll do everything I can to stop you and you’ll have to deal with me, and that’ll amount to assault.  Of a minor.  On school property by a school authority figure.”

It probably was funny, because of their size difference, but Gary was between Mr. Johnson and me, and Mr. Johnson was trying to get to me, and Gary kept moving to stay between us.  Mr. Johnson was in a pickle.  He couldn’t get to me without going through Gary, and doing that in public was something that would quickly become a problem he didn’t know how to deal with.  He stopped.  And I kept talking.

“Gary isn’t gay.  You can ask his girlfriend, who’s been battling his repeated efforts to get past first base.”

That brought another laugh, louder this time, and a lot of kids were really listening now, sitting up in their seats.  They hadn’t been expecting anything like this.

“The reason we’re here today is, Mr. Johnson has had it in for me for some time now, and he finally got the opportunity today when Gary was excited and happy for me and showed it.  What Gary did was harmless.  But Mr. Johnson hates me, like he hates a lot of us kids, probably some of you, too, and he was looking for anything he could find to use against me.  He threatened me the other day, said he was going to get me.  He told me he wished he hadn’t just cautioned another student so that student could have beaten me up.  He even slapped me in the back of the head in the halls a while ago.”

“What?”  That came from the back of the room.  The kids in the audience turned to see who’d said it.  I looked, too, and saw our principal, Dr. Jacoby, standing in the back by the auditorium doors.

He walked down the aisle to the front, then climbed up on the stage.  He looked at Mr. Johnson, who took a step back, then walked up to me. 

“I’m sorry, I just came through the door when you were speaking.  Did you say Mr. Johnson slapped you?”

“Yes, sir.  I was in the hall.  He had it in for me because my mother had done a number on him in his office the day before, really cut him down to size.  He was still mad about that.  He hit me on the back of my head.”

Dr. Jacoby turned to look at Mr. Johnson.  “Is this true?”

Mr. Johnson was red in the face, and blustered, “No it isn’t.  This kid is a liar who’s been giving me a lot of problems lately.  I’ve had him in my office repeatedly.  He’s trying to change the subject of what he’s here for.  He and this other boy broke school rules, and I’ve brought them in front of the school to make an example of them and to have them answer for it.”

Dr. Jacoby stared at him a minute longer, then turned back to me.  “You didn’t report this to me, and you say it happened some time ago.  No staff member is allowed to touch a student.  I wish you’d reported it when it happened.  I don’t suppose you said anything to anyone about it?  I don’t suppose you have any way of verifying it happened?”  He kept raising his eyebrows, asking questions with them as well as his voice.  “I do not permit things like this to happen, but students have to report them before anything can be done.”

He had a presence about him, and I saw in his eyes some of what I’d seen in Mr. Jenks’ eyes.  A solid, self-assured confidence.  I felt something from him.  I didn’t know him at all, had never met him—he was often away at conferences and meetings, and we shared him as principal with another high school which took up more of his time, allowing Mr. Johnson to have a lot of control—but somehow I knew he wasn’t anything like Mr. Johnson.

I watched him waiting for a response from me, and wished I’d gone to him at the time Mr. Johnson had slapped me.  At the time, I hadn’t been standing up for myself.  At the time, I was just the old me, being me.  I wished I could have a do over, but what was past was past.

And then a thought occurred to me.  My circumstances were different now than they had been then.  So were Mr. Johnson’s.

I turned to the audience.  “I just realized something.  I was slapped, but it was in the hallway and I wasn’t alone at the time.  A bunch of you guys were there.  Did anyone see it?  Anyone see Mr. Johnson slap the back of my head several days ago?”

I saw four hands go up, and then a boy shouted out, “Yeah, I saw it.  He slapped your head, and you stumbled forward, almost fell down.”

Dr. Jacoby turned and said to Mr. Johnson, “Let’s go to my office.  You have some explaining to do, and you probably need to be thinking about updating your resume.”

“You can’t fire me.”  Mr. Johnson was standing taller, looking like a warrior.  He was much larger than Dr. Jacoby.  I thought he might have forgotten where he was, firing back at the principal.  But he always had had problems with a quick and uncontrolled temper.  His face was even redder now.   He said to Dr. Jacoby, his voice even louder than before, “I have tenure, and I’m the only one you have who can coach football!”

Dr. Jacoby just smiled, and said, “Yes, it would be tragic if our 1 and 7 football team had to get a new coach.”  Then his voice hardened.  “My office.  Now.”