“Twenty-six cents is a lot of money today,” Savoldi said sadly.
“Just endorse your paycheck over to him, Manners,” Solly said. “That should just cover the debt.”
“He thinks he’s being funny,” Savoldi said, indicating Solly with a sideward movement of his head.
“Who me?” Solly asked. “There’s nothing funny about this dump, nothing. Except The Boss. He’s a riot.”
“He’s not a bad fellow,” Katz said.
“He’s a prince,” Solly said dryly.
“No, really. He’s not bad at all.”
“I said, didn’t I? A prince. They should send him someplace where royalty is appreciated.”
“Well, I don’t think he’s doing a bad job here,” Katz said staunchly.
“Nobody does a bad job here,” Savoldi said sadly.
“Except you, Lou,” Solly said.
Savoldi shrugged. “How can you do a bad job here?” he asked. “A bad job anyplace else is a good job here.”
“He’s finally catching on,” Solly said. “He’s been teaching here for eighty years, and he’s just getting wise.”
“I’m one of the Original Wise Men,” Savoldi said.
“It’s possible to do a good job here,” Rick said softly.
“Here’s Dadier again,” Solly said. “Dadier, you’d better be careful or you’ll wind up being a principal.”
“He’d like that,” Savoldi said sadly. “Wouldn’t you, Dadier?”
“That’s what I’m bucking for,” Rick said, smiling.
“You can always tell the hot-rods,” Solly said, wagging his head. “I spotted you for a hot-rod from go, Dadier. That’s why your arm is in a bandage now.”
“It’s healing,” Rick said, shrugging.
“Everything heals,” Savoldi said.
“Time heals all wounds,” Katz put in.
“Unless they use a zip gun on you someday. Try to heal a hole in your head,” Solly said.
“They won’t use a zip gun on me,” Rick said confidently.
“Famous last words,” Solly said.
“I don’t think they will, either,” Katz offered. “Dadier is a good teacher.”
“Oh, yeah,” Rick said.
“Yes, yes, you are,” Katz insisted. “You should have seen the way he handled those kids in the Christmas show.”
“Are you still crapping about that show, Katz?” Solly asked. “The term’ll be over in a few days, and he’s still talking about Christmas.” Solly shook his head.
“He believes in Santa Claus,” Manners said.
“Where’s your tie, Katz?” Savoldi asked. “No tie today?”
“He’s slipping,” Solly said.
“It was a very nice tie,” Katz said, a little embarrassed.
“Who said no?” Solly asked. “It was a very nice tie.”
“Then what was wrong about wearing it?” Katz asked.
“Nothing. But you could have stopped after you spilled catsup and coffee and mustard...”
“I never spilled anything on it,” Katz said seriously, offended.
“How did your kids like the tie, Katz?” Manners asked.
“They thought it was very nice,” Katz answered, still miffed.
“They don’t know ties from garter snakes,” Solly said.
“They’re not that dumb,” Rick contradicted.
“No, huh?”
“I don’t think so.”
“That’s because you love them all, Dadier. There’s nothing like a little knifing to generate love and devotion.”
“Dadier is a professional hero,” Savoldi said.
“He stops rapes and knifings,” Manners said, “and is also available for Christmas shows, hayrides, and strawberry festivals.”
“No bar-mitzvahs?” Solly asked.
“Those, too,” Rick said, smiling.
“What’s a bar-mitzvah?” Savoldi asked innocently. “An Irish stew?”
“Yeah,” Solly said. “With presents.” He rose suddenly and walked to the window, staring out at the red brick of the housing project in the distance. “They got people living in there already,” he said.
“I don’t think it’s proper to joke about Dadier’s knifing,” Katz said, really thinking it was not proper to joke about his gift tie.
“Who’s joking?” Solly asked. “Dadier is a very brave man.”
“A missionary,” Manners said.
Solly turned, seemingly surprised. “Are you still around, Manners? I thought you’d be teaching at Julia Richmond by this time.”
“I’m working on it,” Manners said smiling.
“It was,” Katz said thoughtfully, “an act of bravery.”
“What’s that?” Solly asked.
“Dadier’s knifing.”
“Certainly. You have to be very brave to get all sliced up.”
“You talk about it as if it were nothing at all,” Katz said seriously. “As if it meant absolutely nothing.”
“Knife wounds mean nothing to heroes,” Manners said. He flicked an imaginary cut on his shoulder. “Just a scratch, man.”
“That’s Dadier’s trouble,” Savoldi said sadly. “He’s a professional hero.”
“No,” Rick said, smiling. “I’m just a teacher.”
Solly turned from the window a moment and looked at Rick curiously. “Yeah,” he said. “A teacher.”
The men were silent for a moment, and Solly walked from the window, looped one thumb in his suspenders and pointed the forefinger of his free hand at Rick.
“You know what a teacher is, Dadier?” he asked.
“What’s a teacher?” Rick asked, straight-manning it.
“I’ll tell you, Dadier. You take some slob, see? You take him when he’s still in the cradle. You take this slob who doesn’t know a teacher from a preacher, who doesn’t even know to wipe his nose yet. You take him, and you...”
Rick sat and listened while Solly expounded his theory. He sat and listened, and the room felt very warm and very secure, and he was aware of the faces of the other men, all watching Solly while he talked, laughing occasionally, Solly enjoying himself as he spoke. He sat and listened, and he was very happy here with these other men in the lunchroom, hearing Solly talk.
But he was not sorry when the bell sounded, ending the lunch period, announcing the beginning of his fifth period, and he smiled when Solly said, “Well, back to the salt mines.”