We were all sitting down, waiting for the teacher to show. For a few moments, Johnny boy hung around in the doorway of the classroom like he’d rather be somewhere else. But then Griff came up behind him, put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder and steered him right in. “This is Jonathan Severn and I’m sure you’d all like to welcome him.”
Griff wasn’t even our real teacher. He was some fucked up old man who they brought in when the real teachers were sick. He probably should have been in an old people’s home. He was always telling us things that weren’t suitable for middle school kids to know, like what the Germans did to the Jews in the war. Once he gave us all paper and crayons and asked us to draw a Martian pancake. The point was that no one knew what a Martian pancake looked like, so everybody had to use their imaginations. I drew a car crash with bodies on the road and blood everywhere. Griff said to me: “That isn’t a Martian pancake.” I said: “How the fuck do you know?” so he sent me to the Vice Principal.
It was unlucky for Johnny Seven that the first teacher he met was this senile old guy who wasn’t even his real teacher. When Griff asked us all to welcome Johnny, no one did. So Johnny just stood there, hanging his head like he found the whole situation humiliating. He walked over to the only free desk, some of the girls smiling at him, then he sat down, not really looking at anyone, eyes straight ahead. Griff launched straight into his dull old routine. “Johnny, maybe you have an opinion about what took place today?”
“Took place where?” said Johnny. No sir, no nothing.
I laughed. Griff shot me a look that said shut the fuck up.
“You’re from New Jersey and you really don’t know what happened?” Griff just wasn’t buying this.
Johnny shook his head, real steady and slow. The way he did it, you could tell he knew exactly what had happened that day. Griff knew it too. Suddenly there was this electric feeling in the air. Something different was happening. Everyone could feel it. Griff was doing what teachers always do. He was holding up a hoop for good little boys and girls to jump through. But the new kid just wasn’t playing.
Griff looked around the class. “Anyone?”
Bugaski put up his hand. Bugaski always put up his hand whether he knew the answer or not, just so it looked like he was making an effort. Bugaski’s report card probably says “This kid has got a name like one guy sticking it to another guy, he’s practically a vegetable, but he sure as hell can wave his arm in the air.”
“Sir!” said Bugaski.
At first, Griffiths ignored him.
“Sir, sir!” said Bugaski, wriggling and pleading like he was about to hatch a monster turd. “Sir, was it Bob Hope?”
“No,” said Griff. “Come on. The news today. Someone must know. Anyone?”
Blank fuckin’ faces.
“Come on. Something happened to someone associated with this state.”
Anne Marie held her hand in the air. I like her, she’s so nice you hardly even notice she’s a whale. “Somebody Davies,” she said.
“Hallelujah,” said Griff. Real sarcastic. “That’s close enough. Jack David. He was executed this morning. Anyone know why?”
“Was he a poor black guy that never did anyone any harm?” I said.
“Be quiet, Newton,” said Griff. He turned back to Anne Marie. “Maybe you could tell us?”
“He blew up a library.”
“Blew up a library?” said Warren Sherman, real shocked. “Really? They executed a guy just for blowing up a library?”
Griff sneered. “It had people in it, Sherman.”
Even so…
This is how fucked up Griff was. I complained to the Vice Principal about him but she never listened. He should have been teaching us about algebra or some shit. Instead, he asked us whether we thought the US government having the power to kill one of its own citizens was good or bad. Bugaski put up his hand as usual and said, “Sir, sir, is it a good thing, sir?”
Griffiths kind of sighed. “Bugaski, this is not a quiz.”
I said: “If you ask me, it’s a terrible example to set to children.”
“But no one’s asking you, Newton,” said Griffiths.
As well as being senile, Griff was a Christian. He was one of those weird Christians who hates the whole human race. He once told us wars were terrible things, but they were useful for keeping down the excess population. Guy like that, would he count murderers as excess population? I guess he would.
Kirsten Wells, dumb but gorgeous, held up her hand. “If Jack David didn’t want to die for his crime, he shouldn’t have planted the bomb in the first place.”
Wow. Great fuckin point, Kirsten. A real sizzler.
Griff gave a nod, just to humour her. He was probably thinking he had to stay on the right side of her, in case the bomb went off and him and Kirsten were the last two people left alive. Dumb or not, a girl who looked like Kirsten could be pretty useful in a post-nuclear situation.
My dad already explained why Jack David did it but I wasn’t really listening. It was something to do with protesting about the government. All I know is the whole senate ganged up on this guy. It wasn’t just a state crime, it was something called a federal crime, which means you’ve insulted the whole of America. Like saying, “Fuck off America.”
And now I was feeling sorry for Griffiths. All he wanted was for the new kid to throw him a bone but Johnny was sitting there like Whistler’s mother. Griff tried again. “Five years ago in this very city, the Melton Library was blown apart by a bomb that David left in an elevator. Over two hundred people died.”
Big silence. Suddenly the new kid sighed, like he wanted to get something out but didn’t know how. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t like talking about it, sir, but actually, yeah,” said Johnny, all solemn and still. “I remember that day very well.”
“Hmm?”
“I didn’t want to say, sir. My mom worked in the City Library. We lost her that day.”
Shit. The whole room was in shock. Griffs face turned purple nearly, and his mouth dropped wide open. Teachers aren’t meant to have feelings, but now he looked like he was about to cry. “Oh. Oh.” That’s all he said. It’s like he couldn’t move, he was paralysed.
“I didn’t want to say,” said Johnny like he was about to cry. “You forced it out of me.”
“I’m extremely sorry, boy,” said Griff. He said it like he meant it.
“Wasn’t just mom. We lost my dad that day,” said Johnny. “And my big sister. They were only returning their books, too.”
Griffiths stared, open-mouthed.
“Yes sir, Mr Griffiths, sir. My uncles and aunts all got killed, too,” said Johnny. “Along with the little dog who lived down the fucking lane.”
Griff kind of rocked on his heels and his face went all pink. Then Griffiths dragged that kid out of his chair and damn near threw him halfway across the room. “How dare you! Get out!” Griffiths was screaming.
Johnny left like he was told. He looked real happy to be going.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I told Griffiths. “Throwing kids is against the law.”
That’s all I said, but the way Griff turned on me, you’d have thought it was me who blew up the fucking library. “You too, Newton.”
“Sir?”
“I said get out!” I get a real big blast of his breath. It smelled like he’d been eating dogshit with a mayonnaise dressing.
“Hey!”
“Don’t ‘hey’ me, boy! Out!”
I looked at my friend KC, hoping he’d put in a good word for me; tell Griffiths I didn’t mean to cause offence. KC kind of shrugged with his eyes like it wasn’t really any of his business.
“What did I do?” I said.
“You’re an idiot. Get the hell out of my classroom!”
In the corridor, Johnny Seven was smoking a cigarette. I couldn’t believe it. “What is wrong with you, man? You’re gonna get yourself expelled on your first day,” I said.