Disclaimer: Still belongs to Hinton.
When the last bell finally rang at 2:30, I settled back at my desk with a sigh. I've been teaching for almost ten years, but I never get tired of that sound. I had plenty of work to do, so I was planning on grading some papers in school and then driving home at about 4. My mother stays with my son, and I didn't want to keep her there too long, but as long as she's home before 5, she never seems to mind.
I was going through a set of papers when one stopped me. My students were writing their themes, and one of the kids chose to write about the day his brother received his draft notice. I'd noticed that Tom had seemed a little quieter lately, and I made a mental note to be gentler with him. He's one of my self-proclaimed tough guys, but I learned early on that the tougher they are, the harder they fall. He's one of the kids I normally enjoy teasing, so I stared at his paper, trying to decide what kind of comment to leave, and settled on, "I hope everyone's doing ok with this (including you). You know I'm here if you need to talk about anything." A lot of my colleagues would laugh at that last part, but they also would never expect how often my students take me up on an offer like that. I fully anticipated Tom to be one of them. I couldn't imagine that there were many other people he'd feel comfortable talking to.
I finished ten papers when I decided it was time to pack up and go. It was almost 4:00, and I was so ready to go home. I had a feeling the next day would be a long one.
When I walked in the door, James came toddling toward me from the couch. He's almost two and is absolutely the light of my life. I knelt and threw open my arms as he walked shakily into them. I scooped him up and covered his face with kisses, and my mother smiled as she walked over to me. She grabbed her jacket and was putting it on as she told me about their day, and then she kissed me goodbye, and we were on our own until my husband got home.
By the time we had James settled in his crib at 8:30 and had a chance to have an adult conversation, I was ready for bed. It is so hard for the two of us to break out of our routine, but I also find it comforting. Our world is unstable enough these days that I'm almost grateful for the structure.
The next morning, I was on my way the moment my mother arrived, and I waited for my first class of 11th graders with their papers in my hand. I wanted to get them back to them as quickly as possible, so Tom would at least know I'd at least read it and understood as much as I could. Once they were all seated, I walked around, giving back their themes as they settled in and started answering the question I'd written on the board: "if you could go back in time and change anything, what would it be?" It tied in nicely with the chapters we were reading in Catcher in the Rye, and I glanced over Tom's shoulder before I dropped his paper on his desk.
If I could change anything? Well, for one thing, I'd have burned the envelope before John ever got home that day, so he wouldn't be headed there now… I didn't say anything. I just put his paper down, but I squeezed his shoulder as I passed, and he glanced up at me quickly as I turned, and we made brief eye contact. I knew he understood what I was trying to say, and while smiling seemed impossible for him at the moment, at least he got the message. The end of class would show whether or not he'd take my suggestion seriously.
"Take a minute to read the comments since I took more than a minute to write them!" I called over the rustling papers as they all automatically turned to the last page to find the grade. They dutifully went back and started reading the comments I'd left in the margins, and I watched Tom out of the corner of my eye. I knew when he was done because he slumped in his seat in his customary slouch. I sighed. I hoped writing about it helped because I had no idea if he would ever want to talk.
When the bell rang at the end of class, the kids were shuffling out, and I was putting papers back in my bag when I realized there was a figure waiting for me. It was Tom, and he was trying to look like he was just packing up really slowly, but he's usually one of the first ones out of the room. I glanced to the door to make sure everyone else had gone, and then I said softly, "when does he leave?"
He swallowed hard. I saw his Adam's apple bob. "Next weekend," he said hoarsely. His voice sounded tight, and I knew I was right. I knew he hadn't spoken about this to anyone yet, so I waited for him to say whatever else he wanted. What he said next, though, took my breath away.
"At least he's going to boot camp with one of our neighbors, though."
"Oh, is he? Well, that's good."
"Yeah," Tom said, managing a small smile. "Sodapop Curtis is a really good guy."