Chapter Seventeen

The next day Mrs. Tyler told the Remedy to go to the principal’s office.  He thought he was in trouble again.

At lunch he had paid another boy a dollar to pummel the fat kid with the glasses. This other boy had done a splendid job.  The whole playground had watched the fight, and the girls had all laughed when the Tail began crying.  

The fight had occurred in the narrow corridor formed by one of the school’s brick walls, where it passed nearest the exterior fence.  Dozens of students had stood around to watch the fight, and their numbers had served to trap the Tail inside the corridor.  Their numbers also concealed the altercation from the eyes of the playground monitors, prolonging the fight and making culprits harder to identify.

The other boy had started by calling the Tail a sissy.  This had led to tearful denials, and then threats, and then laughter, and then the other boy had kicked the Tail to the ground, and began hitting him about the head and chest.  One of the bystanders had even snatched the Tail’s glasses away, and someone else had quietly shattered one of the lenses.  

The Remedy had stood to the rear of the crowd, exchanging knowing glances with the boy he had paid.  He tried not to appear too pleased with the proceedings, but it was difficult not to jeer along with the rest of the students.  Every time the Tail squealed he thought of Mrs. Tyler, and how flustered she would look when she saw the Tail’s bruised and bloodied face.

        After the beating, the Tail had run off to hide somewhere.  The sound of his crying followed him to his hiding place, and the Remedy considered it money well spent.  “I even made him do that diorama for me,” he told a friend after, “I made him do it all by himself.  If he’s so smart, why’d I get the same grade for doing nothing?  And why is he the one getting pummeled?”

The Remedy would remember the year 1945 forever after, because Mrs. Tyler had been most calculating in her punishments the day before.  His hand still ached from her retribution, and his ears still rang with her rebukes.  She had a criticism for everything that he did, and behind all of her words was the mocking smile of his classmate, that boy who never made a mistake, that boy who had all the answers ready for every question.

        The only bright spot in the previous day had been the consolation he had received in his mother’s arms after school.  She had told him not to worry, and she had helped him finish his homework.  His father took them get milkshakes afterward, and they had laughed together, and played video games in a local arcade, and they all forgot - for a while - how fragile their happiness truly was.

        After receiving his summons to the principal’s office he walked to the door of his class, looking back for a moment at the Tail, seated in the front row.  The Tail had his eyes upon Mrs. Tyler as the older woman watched the Remedy leave the room.  The Tail had a dark bruise around his left eye, and his lower lip was bloody and beginning to swell.  The collar of his shirt was torn, and scabs were drying on his knuckles.

        Yes, the Remedy thought, money well spent.

Outside the door to their class a large hallway led to the other end of the building.  The ceiling was very high above, with lamps that hung down several feet.  The floor and walls were cement, and had been renovated to withstand air raids during the War.  A stylized molding, painted off-white, decorated the doorways that occupied the hall.  Between the doorways there were glass fronted cases that showcased trophies awarded for long-gone events, and halfway down the length of the hall there was a large staircase that led down to the school’s main entrance.  The walls were a brownish color, and the floor surface squealed beneath his basketball shoes.  The principal’s office was located within the main school office, which was just a few doors down to his left, just before the staircase.  Outside the door to the main office there was a metal plaque describing the functions of several people within.

        Inside, the room was humming with secretaries.  The door to the principal’s office was one of three doors at the other end of the room, in the right corner.  Outside the door to his office, where the principal himself stood, there was a police officer and a tense-looking woman in a business outfit.  The principal, a white-haired man with a southern air, stood just behind these two, with worry written all over his face.  The police officer was shining black, and the tense-looking woman was a pale white verging on yellow.   All avoided the Remedy’s searching gaze.

        The principal studied the boy for a moment, and then retreated into his office.  The police officer and the woman silently came over to where he was standing, and ushered him into an adjoining room.  He asked them who they were, and what was going on.  He thought about apologizing for what he had done to the fat boy with the glasses, and he wondered if his mother or father were already on their way to his school, angry over what he’d done.

       Minutes later, amidst cushioned furniture and framed certificates, they told him that his parents were both dead.  It had happened that morning, and there was nothing anyone could do.  

A fire.  His parents had died in a fire.  His parents had breathed in smoke, so they had not suffered.  His parents had died in a fire.  A fire.

        No living relatives that could take him, but they were going to find a place for him to stay.  A fire.

        They would try to keep him in the same school.  A fire.

        But they couldn’t promise.  A fire.

        And they couldn’t

        What?  Promise?  But I was with my mom this morning and she was hugging me and she told me that everything was going to be just fine the night before and when I woke up this morning I was in my pajamas and I went to the living room and she was there with my dad for a few minutes and they were holding hands and my dad smiled at me and my mom looked like an angel and then I got my schoolbag and I started to go towards the door and then I realized that I had forgotten one of my books so I went back to my room to get it and then I did and then I found it lying beneath my bed and someone said something then and I was thinking about cartoons and the light was just perfect as it came into my room through the drawn Star Wars curtains and it made everything my parents ever bought for me glow just right like in a movie and then I went back to the kitchen and my mom said where are you going Mr. you haven’t even had your breakfast yet and my dad was talking about what a busy boy I am and how hard I was trying even though nothing I ever do is good enough for Teacher and then my mom laughed and I remembered this time they took me to Vashon or somewhere else out on the peninsula and I ran around this old army base that no one ever uses anymore and my dad was chasing me with a flashlight and then we took the flashlights into one of those tunnels and it was really dark and scary but it was OK because my dad was holding my hand and then we came back out into the sunlight and my mom laughed and said she was worried about us and then we drove back home and I fell asleep and while I was asleep my mom or my dad picked me up and put me in my bed and when I woke up it was just like this morning and just like every other morning before it and every morning after that should be like the mornings before so that I can wake up and see my mommy and my daddy smiling there at me in the kitchen and if they could just stay around I know it wouldn’t really matter that I can’t read so good and that school is hard for me because I would always know that at the end of the day I would see one or both of them there even though my dad is such a hard worker and sometimes he comes home so late and then I have to do my homework or even do extra homework and I can’t talk to him as much as I would like to because he’s so tired and I’m so busy but I always know that sometime on the weekend I will come inside the house and see him there in the living room and he’ll ask me about how many little girlfriends I have at school or he’ll try to help me read better and my mom will be around cooking or cleaning or doing something like reading a book which she can do really good and if I could read like her I would be so happy and I try so hard to be a good boy even though I paid someone a dollar to beat up that fat kid and why and how and what is this lady saying to me about my mom being DEAD and that can’t be true because I know my mom would never leave me like that and my dad can’t be DEAD because he’s a great guy and he never hurt anyone and I try so hard to be like him and he can’t leave me like this and he never did anything wrong and I never did anything wrong and this stupid lady must be confused or something because my parents aren’t really DEAD and this is all just a joke.

        The shining black policeman held him as he wept and screamed.  Later, all he could remember of this moment was a copy of Good Housekeeping, which had been lying on a table in the center of the room.  On the cover of that magazine was a woman, in appearance much like his mother, hanging plants on a balcony.  His mother liked to hang plants, but his mother, like his father, was dead.