Title: Apple
Summary: Brilliant, jokester, and brilliant jokester – and with a bit of an authority complex – Hawkeye Pierce is a senior in high school and wages war on his Anatomy and Physiology teacher. A collection of intertwining one-shots, one for each of the ten months in the school year.
Rated: K+
Disclaimer: I do not own M*A*S*H
Dedicated to all of them who teach, and written as a tribute to the devotion and encouragement they exhibit toward us students.
Hawkeye is a difficult character to capture even at the best of times and getting his voice as a teenager was...interesting.
I have no idea whether or not they would teach Anatomy and Physiology as 12th grade course work. For the purpose of this story, they do.
About the Title: Apple, as in Crabapple Cove, as in the things that historical show up on teacher's desks at Christmas, and because the first red delicious apple was called Hawkeye (I'm not kidding).
September:
"Abbey, Caroline?"
"Present."
"Brontel, Stephen?"
"Here, sir."
"Charleston, Mary?"
"Here."
"Clark, Harrison?"
"Present."
Mr. Robert Johnson ran down his class list. It was the first day of school and the majority of students seemed to be in attendance.
"Lawrence, Jonathan?"
"Here."
"Newman, Christopher?"
"Present."
"Noland, Abigail?"
"Present, sir."
"Pierce, Benjamin?"
Johnson looked up.
"Benjamin Pierce?"
No one answered.
There was no explanatory note from the principle and Johnson made a note on his clipboard.
"Richards, Emily?"
"Here, sir."
And went on with the roll call.
"Hello class," Johnson said when the roll call had finished. He put aside his clipboard. There was only one marked absence. "I am Mr. Robert Johnson, Mr. Sharden's replacement and your teacher this year for Anatomy and Physiology. All students in attendance should have scored high on their Biology and Chemistry course work of previous years, correct?"
There was a general wave of nodding heads across the classroom.
"A word of warning," Johnson continued, "I do not accept inattentiveness, tardiness, or any form of mischief making in my class. We are here to study science; if you cannot comply with my rules than you will be asked to leave. Any questions?"
No one made a sound.
"Now, aware as I am that this is your first day back, nevertheless, we will begin just as if it were any other day. Please open to chapter one in the text book –"
The door swung open. Standing in the doorway was a tall, lanky boy with badly cut, black hair and a general feeling of casual unkemptness about him.
Johnson looked at his clipboard.
"Benjamin Pierce?"
"Hawkeye," said the boy as if it were an introduction.
"Mr. Pierce, are you aware that class started ten minutes ago?"
"Yep."
"And have you any explanation for your tardiness?"
The boy shrugged. "Well there was this police chase, something about the Bronx zoo – but, naw, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."
The class stifled laughter.
"You assume correctly, Mr. Pierce. Please, take a seat."
The boy deposited himself at a desk in the front row, arms and legs sprawled outward.
Interruption aside, Johnson began again. He turned to write something on the blackboard. "I think we will begin with a review. You will notice the first chapter of the book is on the structure of animal cells –"
Behind Johnson's turned back, he heard Pierce mutter to his neighbor if he happened to have a spare text book.
"Now," said Johnson, turning back to the class, "can anyone tell me the primary functions of centrosomes?"
A girl near the back raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Noland?"
"Centrosomes aid with cell digestion, don't they?"
Johnson opened his mouth but shut it again when, for a second time, he heard Pierce mutter something to his neighbor.
"Have you anything to share with the class, Mr. Pierce?"
The boy looked up, "Only that it's lysosomes that aid with cell digestion, not centrosomes. They aid with mitosis. Also, Abby, I'm looking forward to seeing you tonight."
A ripple of laughter ran through the class. Miss Noland blushed. Johnson raised his hand for silence.
"Thank you, Mr. Pierce, from now on if you wish to speak or answer a question I would ask you to please raise your hand."
Pierce raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Pierce?"
"I like your tie. It really brings out your eyes."
Before Johnson could say anything, one of the boys sitting next to Pierce raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Clark?"
"I second the motion."
Pierce raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Pierce?"
"How do you part your hair so straight down the middle?"
The class was having trouble holding in their laughter. Johnson frowned.
"Thank you, Mr. Pierce. That will do. Please see me after class."
The boy's eyes widened in surprised but he didn't look troubled. In fact, he was grinning. He sat back in his chair, casually inspecting his fingernails.
The end of the class came with no more interruptions from Pierce. Perhaps the boy had learned that Johnson was not a force to be reckoned with.
As the class filed out the door, Pierce remained and approached Johnson's desk. Johnson stood to face him and realized that Pierce was several inches taller than himself.
"I do not know how you were accustomed to treating my predecessor Mr. Sharden, Mr. Pierce," Johnson began as soon as the last student had left. The boy looked unfazed. He looked again, like he might grin, but seemed to be fighting down the impulse. "But I, at least, intend to be treated with respect."
"I never meant disrespect, sir."
"Then I ask you what did you mean, Mr. Pierce?"
The boy shrugged, "Not disrespect."
"Very well, Mr. Pierce," said Johnson. "As this is the first day, I will let you off with a warning. But if any more of your antics make an appearance in my class than I'm afraid that I will be forced to ask you to leave."
"Okay," said the boy with another shrug.
"Yes, sir," said Johnson.
"There's no need to call me sir, sir," said Pierce, with a passable expression of shocked innocence on his face.
Johnson frowned.
"Consider this a formal warning then, Pierce, if you intend to act that way. Perhaps you've heard it in baseball, but the same holds true for my class: three strikes and you're out."
"But foul balls don't count, right?"
"You may go, Mr. Pierce."
The boy put his hand to his forehead in a mock solute, "Yes, sir! Sir, sir." He turned sharply on his heel and swept from the classroom.
Outside he met his friends who had evidently waited in the hallway. Johnson could hear Pierce as he continued, "Yessir, yessir, yessir! Hut-two-three-four! Hut! Hut-two-three-four! Hut!" and marched down the hallway, to the impressive amusement of his friends.
Johnson frowned and packed away his clipboard and notes. He looked out the doorway in time to see Pierce disappear around the corner, friends in tow.
He smothered a sigh. It was going to be a long year.
Johnson fell into a chair in the teacher's lounge. One of his colleague's, Mr. Wilson – the Biology teacher – was sipping coffee across the way.
"How was your first day?"
"Fine," said Johnson. "Except – do you know anything about a Mr. Benjamin Pierce?"
"Hawkeye?" said Ms. Hawthorn, the English teacher, stepping into their conversation.
"I do believe that's what he called himself."
"Shoot," said Mr. Wilson, "You've got Hawkeye in your class?"
"I'm glad I'm not the only one to have that reaction," said Johnson. "The boy seemed to be ridiculously self-righteous, not to mention completely indifferent to my authority –"
"The kid's brilliant," said Mr. Wilson.
"He's…I beg your pardon?"
"He's brilliant," said Mr. Wilson. "Aces the course work. Got A after A in my class and I don't think he even studied."
"He's very sweet," Ms. Hawthorn added. "Quite the flatterer. And I do believe he's quite popular with the ladies."
"And neither of you found him to be somewhat…pretentious?" said Johnson, hardly believing his ears, and wondering if he and his colleagues were discussing the same person.
"Well, of course," said Mr. Wilson with a shrug, "But that's just Hawkeye. You're new here so you wouldn't know – but that's always been Hawkeye."
"And – excuse me – but you allow him to get away with his antics simply because 'that is the way he is'?" Johnson made sure his air-quotes were apparent.
Ms. Hawthorn smiled, "There is something bewitchingly charming about the boy."
"You'll just have to get used to him," said Mr. Wilson, and took a sip of his coffee.
Johnson frowned. He began to get a clearer picture of this Benjamin Pierce. Not only was he a delinquent, apparently, but one whom could cajole, as well. And those were sometimes the most dangerous.
"I gather the boy's had an easy life," said Johnson, hoping he did not sound bitter – because he did not want to his colleagues to think him bitter – "His schoolwork comes easily to him? Has his family money?"
Ms. Hawthorn shrugged. "Not an overly easy life, no."
"Dad's the country doctor. Not a soul in Crabapple Cove who doesn't know Dan Pierce. As for money, no, can't say the Pierce's have an excess of it. In fact, Dan has a habit of charging and never collecting," said Mr. Wilson.
"And all the teachers here, they know this Dr. Pierce? And are aware that Benjamin Pierce is his son?"
"Sure," said Mr. Wilson.
"And perhaps treat his son with lenience out of gratitude – perhaps reverence for his father?"
Mr. Wilson looked a bit taken aback and didn't say anything.
Ms. Hawthorn piped up, "Hawkeye's mother passed away when he was young. I cannot say that that has made for an easy life."
"And you afford him grace out of pity, is that it?"
Ms. Hawthorn blinked, "What? No. Of course not. Hawkeye is a good student. He's a good boy. He gets good grades. Who are we to suppress his more…creative instincts?"
"Shameless carousing, you mean," said Johnson, feeling his lips press sharply together. "No, I am afraid I cannot condone that. At least in my classroom, I cannot."
Ms. Hawthorn looked at a loss for words.
Mr. Wilson looked uncomfortable, as if he was afraid he had said too much. But nothing they had said, nor nothing they could say, could help relax the reserve Johnson felt for Benjamin Pierce. That boy would not be given an easy avenue in his class.
"Mr. Pierce, are you chewing gum?"
"Yes, sorry, sir. I'd offer some but this was my last chew."
"And you're aware that chewing gum during class is against this school's policy?"
"Yes, sir. But I won't tell anyone you wanted some."
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