Chapter 14

He spent most of Wednesday trying to prepare himself for the following day- he'd known going into this that it would be a challenge, but he'd not imagined anything quite like this- it was like the plot of a bad sitcom episode. He used his school-issued laptop to study common special education techniques, and tried his hardest to diagnose Ralph. Despite his best efforts, none of the disorders he found quite encompassed the boy's enigmatic behavior. While he displayed some symptoms of Asperger syndrome and other forms of autism, some of his behaviors were in direct contradiction of this diagnosis. Perhaps this was why the adults in his life had seemingly grown tired of trying to help him, and instead settled for keeping him out of the way. Well, he would be damned if he joined their ranks- he was going to get through to Ralph, one way or another. He compiled a list of cognitive therapy exercises that might be of use to him, and studied up on a wide range of developmental disorders and how to best deal with them.

When he addressed his class on Thursday, he wasn't surprised to see their numbers significantly diminished: nearly half of his students had apparently decided to forgo his teachings. Well, no bother- it made his job that much easier. Hopefully, the students who remained were a bit more dedicated and studious than he'd at first given them credit for being. Among them was, of course, Ralph, who had exchanged his back-row desk for one in the front. He smiled widely at Bob, who did his best to return the warm expression.

"Hello, and welcome back. I'm pleased to see that at least some of you have returned. Now, I understand that the second semester hasn't officially started; however, I see no point in wasting time. Does anyone know the purpose of the paper I assigned you?" A student in the front row raised his hand tentatively.

"To teach us a lesson?" Bob bit back a snappy response.

"Yes, although I do believe that's the point of attending classes all together." He smiled, and a few students chuckled cautiously. "Partially, I wanted to weed those looking for an easy credit from our midst, but mostly, I'm interested in your ability to comprehend and analyze the nuances of symbolism as it pertains to the overall message of a work. Now, please get out your papers." He was rather proud of himself- he was being downright nice! He'd even said please. There was a flurry of activity as they hurried to produce their assignments from their school bags. Ralph held a single sheet of paper above his head triumphantly.

"I remembereded my story!" He announced, and there were a few scattered snickers. Bob stared at each culprit in turn, until they once again fell silent.

"Well done, Ralph. Now, I wish to make something perfectly clear. I may be filling in for Mrs. Ellison, but while she's in convalescence, this is my classroom- and in it, there is absolutely no room for discrimination of any kind. This is not limited to race- it includes discrimination against anyone for any reason, including disabilities. You may be students, but you're mature enough to treat one another with dignity and respect; you're adults, and I expect you to conduct yourselves as such. Now, do I make myself clear?" Ralph squinted at him, craning his neck to get a better look.

"You're not see through," he pointed out.

"No, I suppose I'm not," Bob conceded, again glancing warningly at the rest of the students: none of them made as much as a peep. "Well, I suppose that's as good a place as any to start: the use of figurative language. Now I was speaking figuratively just now, which means that I didn't really mean that I was literally clear, just that my words were easily understood." He explained the different ways figurative language could be used in literature, providing examples for both Ralph and the rest of the students. Whether Ralph understood what Bob was saying wasn't evident, but he seemed to be intently listening to the lecture, only growing fidgety and picking his nose once throughout the entire two hours. When the class was over, Bob instructed them to leave their assignments on his desk.

"Do you want to read my story?" Ralph asked him, holding it out for him with a proud smile.

"I'd be delighted, Ralph. Thank you, and good job remembering to bring it with you." To be honest, he was surprised that Ralph had written anything. It was on a sheet of wide-ruled notebook paper, and had been scrawled in purple crayon, but it was something, and that alone was a start.

my birthday

by ralph wiggm

i had a birth day prty nd my kity cam so i putd a hat on him

he givd me a presnt it wuz a ded mows so i putd a hat on him 2

but he didnt eet ne cak i at all the cak

nd i throwd up

the end

He stared at the story. Despite the horrific spelling and nonexistent grammar, he'd followed Bob's instructions. It stayed on topic, and told the story of his birthday party.

"This was… your favorite birthday?" He asked, appalled as Ralph nodded. He didn't even want to know what would qualify as a bad birthday in Ralph's opinion.

"Yeah, it was lots of fun. I had a pretty pink cake, and pretty decorations. It was a yummy cake, but it maked me feel funny."

"Yes, I see that. Thank you for writing this and turning it in; I'll give it back to you next time, when I'm finished grading everyone's papers." Ralph smiled again, then spun on his heel without a word and wandered out of the room. Bob stared at the paper for a long time. His spelling seemed to be entirely phonetic, so he understood the sounds made by the letters, and he also seemed to grasp the concept of conjunctions to link his ideas. The absence of punctuation was a bit troubling, but it was actually better than he'd anticipated. It was about what he would expect from a kindergartener- which was, most likely, the grade in which the teachers had given up trying to actually teach him. Ralph had mentioned his fondness for the birthday song; perhaps a musical approach to the English language was in order. Of course, that had already been done, with the Schoolhouse Rock series, but Bob was looking for something a bit more personalized. It had been some time since he'd composed anything of his own, but this could actually be fun. He put it at the top of the stack of papers, and tucked them into his briefcase, along with the laptop.

After class, he stopped by the testing center to collect the completed exams, and then returned to his apartment to work on grading them. It was worse than he could ever have imagined: their entire first semester had apparently consisted of them watching movies, and the exam was just multiple choice questions based on them: not a single short answer or essay question was present on the whole test. He flew through them, finishing the grading in less than an hour. They had all passed, although a few had cut it rather close.

There was only one that caused him to tumble- unsurprisingly, it belonged to one Ralph Wiggum. It was the only one that was something other than multiple choice, but it was no better than the rest. It was simply a blank sheet of paper, with one line of instruction: "Draw your kitty." There was a shockingly accurate depiction of a cat, although Bob found it a little disturbing that it seemed to have a very human face. He wasn't sure if this was merely Ralph's artistic interpretation of the companionship he felt with his cat, or if he truly saw his feline friend with a human countenance. Either way, he was quite impressed with the boy's artistic ability: Ralph had definitely earned his A. Bob wondered if Mrs. Ellison was aware of Ralph's talent, or if she'd simply written the first thing that came into her head. He tried to be understanding of her lax approach to education: she had, after all, been growing another person inside of her for the entirety of the first semester, but somehow he doubted that it would have made much of a difference.

He decided to keep all of Ralph's work together, so that he could better track any progress he might make, and determine what tactics seemed most effective. He copied down Ralph's story onto a separate sheet of paper, word-for-word, and made his corrections on that, using different colored pens for different corrections- spelling corrections were denoted in blue, while grammar was in green, and he avoided red altogether, not wanting to discourage him with the stereotypically negative color.

He spent the next few hours researching special education and elementary school lesson plans, having decided that the best course of action would be to start at the beginning. He devised a tentative schedule for what they should cover over the next month, doing his best to make is as simple as possible. It was almost a puzzle, trying to figure out what would make sense to the boy and applying it to the topic, and he'd lost track of the time when his phone buzzed, signaling an incoming text from Lisa.

"Hey, how's the class going? Has everyone survived Professor Terwilliger?" He smirked as he typed his response.

"So far, there have been no fatalities, though the semester is young. Your exams went well, I assume?" It was really just a formality: of course Lisa had done well on her exams; it was foolish to think otherwise. She texted back a moment later.

"Yes, even better than I expected. Thanks. Just wanted to see how it was going."

"Thanks… I have Ralph in my class." He wondered if she was aware that he was attending classes. "No one has attempted to teach him a thing, but I think he's capable of learning, with the right approach." Her response took longer than the last one.

"Well, if anyone can teach him, I think it's you- just be patient with him; it's not his fault. He's a sweet kid, and I would hate to see him fall victim to 'the wrath of Bob.' I don't know if it's helpful to you, but he was actually amazing in the school play, and remembered all of his lines. He can tap dance like nobody's business, too. Apparently he's got some hidden talents, but everyone forgets about them and writes him off as being too stupid to learn." This was useful information…

"Thank you, that is quite helpful. I'll be sure to let you know what happens with him." With Lisa's confirmation that Ralph wasn't a complete lost cause, he felt confident that he was on the right track, and was feeling downright optimistic that he would be able to get through to the boy. As he prepared for bed, he found himself even looking forward to starting Ralph's customized lesson plan. Who knew? Perhaps, if given the proper attention, Ralph could flourish and surprise everyone.

A/N: Hello! Thanks for reading! I hope you liked Ralph's story; I had so much fun writing him.

I know it's not Sunday, but I missed the last couple Sundays, so I wanted to at least get something up. I've been busy.

Like I said, I feel like no one ever gives Ralph enough credit. I'm not really trying to diagnose Ralph, and if I've offended anyone, I apologize- I did a bit of research on autism, and I've a few cousins and friends with varying forms of autism and Asperger's. It frustrates me how there sometimes aren't facilities available for people with disabilities or whose learning style differs from the standard, or how even if they're available, their parents don't provide for them sufficiently. I'm not going to go into it right now, but it can make such a huge difference in a person's life if people just try to look at things differently and put forth a little effort into helping them.

While Bob might not normally be the type to bend over backwards to accommodate someone else's needs, in this fic, Lisa has really gone out of her way to help him, so he's feeling generous.

Sorry about the hiatus. I'll try to be better. T_T

~A