Chapter 4

The next two periods were nearly a duplication of the first, and by the time the last students left, Sam was mentally beat. He'd been on his feet the entire time, resisting the barbs and distractions presented by the troubled kids, trying to make things interesting for the ones who actually cared about learning something. He packed up his books and left the room, and after lunch, his ordeal with the phys ed students would begin. He secretly wished some of those instigators would be in his classes, and he could pay them back by making them work hard.

He found the teachers' lunch room, which was a large glassed-in cube full of round tables with chairs, versus the long tables and benches in the general seating area. As he entered, all eyes were on him.

"Hi," he said, and a few went back to what they were doing. He figured that they'd seen enough subs come and go, this one wasn't much different. He glanced around the room, found a place to sit that was away from everyone else, and settled in with a lunch that Yvette packed, not sure he wanted to brave the cafeteria's offerings. He set out a sandwich, yogurt, and a baggie of carrot sticks, grabbed a cup of coffee from the coffeemaker, and he was ready to get down to business. While he ate, he pored over the file folder Carl Larkin gave him in an attempt to figure out who in the bunch had the most potential to be a gang leader.

"Hi."

Sam looked up and saw a young, cute blonde woman sit across from him at the table. "Sue Sturtevant. I'm the art teacher." She held out a hand and he took it.

"Sam Axe. Substitute history and phys ed teacher."

"I hear you had it out with Nicholas Spencer."

Sam shook his head. "Not really. Just gave the kid a lesson in respect, that's all."

"You better be careful with him, Sam. He's a tough kid. His dad is in the Navy."

"Yeah, so was I. Unless his dad outranks a Commander, I don't think I have much to worry about." He gave her a smug smile. "Besides, if the kid needs Daddy to fight his battles for him, he's got bigger issues."

Sue stopped talking, but he could feel her eyes on him. He clicked on his pen and wrote a few notes in the margin of one of the dossiers, glanced at her, and said, "Sorry, I'm, uh, kind of busy here."

"What are you doing with those?" She turned her head to get a better look at the files.

Sam closed the folder. "Nothing you need to know about. Sorry." He raised his eyes to her, wordlessly conveying the message that she wasn't wanted there. With a sniff, she got up, strode back to the table where she started, and ducked her head down with the other women who sat around it. From across the room he could hear them whispering, probably discussing his rudeness. Sam didn't care. He wasn't there to make nice with the other teachers; finding the disruptors was his main objective.

The first bell rang, signaling that it was time for the next period in ten minutes. Sam had a little time to get to the gym and prepare for his next class. He'd gotten through most of the profiles so he had a fair idea of what he was up against. If he thought the history classes were mentally draining, phys ed would probably suck all the last of his energy. He packed up his things, threw away the trash, and grabbed a bottle of water before heading for the gym.

When the kids arrived for class, they were surprised to see him, except for the couple who were from his history class. They were even more surprised to see that he actually dressed to participate. He wore an old faded gray t-shirt with Navy emblazoned on it, dark blue shorts, and gym shoes and socks. A whistle hung around his neck. The students milled around talking, until he gave one loud burst to get their attention.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Sam Axe, I'm your phys ed teacher, and we're going to get started with a little stretching after roll call." He got the kids lined up and put them through a few exercises. The girls went at it half-heartedly, but the guys showed off for the girls. "Come on, ladies! I know you can do it! Come on, let's go, let's go, let's get those legs up! Pretend you're the Miami Heat cheerleaders!"

The girls grinned and laughed as he encouraged them. He moved down the lines and barked at the guys as if he were their drill instructor, not some lazy gym teacher to be ignored. When he gave the girls a nod or a smile, they worked harder. But Sam knew he had to be careful with turning on the charm. It could get him into a lot of trouble, and it had nothing to do with the gang.

After everyone seemed to be limbered up, he sent them running around the gym for a few laps, and he led the way. Toward the back he set up a few obstacles for them to go through, and after a couple laps the guys took their turns following Sam. The girls hung back, but a few brave ones followed the guys. Sam couldn't believe how well the class was going. Everyone followed direction, pushing themselves harder when he asked them to press on. If his last class of the day was anything like this, he could go home feeling really good about what he'd accomplished. To his disappointment, it turned out to be a completely different scenario.

Nicholas Spencer was in class, as were two other guys from the history classes who heckled and tried to create a disturbance. They talked among themselves and paid no attention to Sam as he conducted the others in the same lesson plan from the previous class. Three times he ordered them to get into line, but they ignored him.

"Okay everybody, run a few laps. I need to have a little conversation with our friends over here." Sam approached Nicholas and his small gang with hands on hips. "Mr. Spencer, you have lunch time to socialize with your friends. When you're here in phys ed, you're on my time, and theirs. Do I need to remind you that you're dissing your classmates by defying me?"

"Whatever, man, I don't need this crap." He straightened himself, but he still couldn't quite reach Sam's height.

"I'd think you'd wanna be in shape, in case you have to run away from the cops, drug dealers, whatever."

Nicholas glared at him. "You're cruisin' for an ass kicking...Mister Axe."

A confident small smile crossed his lips. "Oh, you don't wanna go there, Mr. Spencer. Trust me."

Nicholas looked at him with a smirk on his face. "You're just an old guy. I could take you any day."

"I suppose, but we'll never know will we?" He glanced at the two kids flanking Nicholas. "You guys just listen to all this hot air and believe him, huh? Talk is cheap. Sometimes you've gotta back it up." Sam turned, knowing he'd said more than enough. He picked up the whistle and was about to bring it to his lips, when he heard a sound of rage behind him.

Nicholas came at Sam, but he was ready. He flipped him over his back like a dead fish and the kid crashed to the wood floor. He quickly recovered and kicked at Sam as he got to his feet. Sam had a quick and easy defensive move ready, and the kid went down again. All the other students stopped running around the gym and huddled nearby to watch Nicholas get the butt kicking he deserved.

"Come on, Nick, give it up, man. I can go all day here!" Sam stood over him, watching him slowly recover from the last blows to his pride. He glanced at Nicholas's friends. "You guys care to defy me again?" Their eyes showed fear, and they blended into the crowd. "Didn't think so." Sam bent over and poked Nick in the chest. "Hit the lockers, Spencer, and come back here when you're done. If you don't...well, you don't wanna know what'll happen next. Got it?"

Nicholas didn't answer him or nod. He just got to his feet, glaring at Sam the entire time with hate in his eyes, and he ran to the boys' locker room.

Sam yelled across the gym. "Nice stride there, Nick! Maybe next time you can join us!"

One thing Sam learned that day was that the kids knew what was going on in their school, and they didn't like it. Witnessing a teacher who wouldn't sit back and let the minority ruin things for the rest of them brought cheers and appreciation. Maybe with enough encouragement, they could build up the confidence to take back the classrooms from those who tried to turn them into scenes of chaos. Then Sam's job would be done.