10 + 12 = Chapter 6 A Second Chance
Mort's fingers itched to grab a pencil and paper and write the boy's story. It would take some time but he knew he could accomplish it with a minimum of distractions. The problem was Mike. He had grown attached to the young boy and knew that when he left he would miss the blond, blue- eyed innocent lad terribly. He had to remain impartial and yet he found himself drawing ever closer to the orphaned child. Lately, he had found himself feeling jealous of his friends. They were getting a chance to be fathers to the boy while he got to watch him grow from the sidelines. He was never going to win the war in his head. He tried to abandon the enticing thoughts of some type of fatherhood with Mike but in the end, rightfully so, his friends needed to be the best men in Mike's life. He sighed and turned over onto his side. 'How can I find the time to finish that report?' he pondered. Then suddenly he knew the answer. He knew exactly where Mike could go, have fun and be safe.
Early the next morning, Mort slipped out of bed, wrote a quick note to Mike, telling him that he would be right back and after dressing, walked briskly down to the schoolhouse. Miss Mason was outside watering the flowers. After exchanging pleasantries, Mort explained the reason for his visit.
"I've so wanted to meet him!" Miss Mason exclaimed. "I realize why Mr. Sherman and Mr. Harper have kept him from attending school, but he needs to be with children his own age."
Mort nodded in agreement. "He's a bright boy and he knows how to read and write. I'm not sure about his arithmetic or history knowledge though," he admitted.
"Well," Miss Mason said smiling, "while he's here, I'll let him know he can participate if he wants to."
Mort thanked her and walked back to his home with a spring in his step.
Mike was not impressed at first glance. The Laramie School was one room! There was a blackboard at the front of the room with the teacher's desk and chair in front of it. There were benches on either side of a rather large heat stove. He watched, from his spot, how some children arrived in wagons or buggies driven by their fathers. Some of the older boys rode their horses and others walked. All of them carried books, slates and a lunch sack.
Soon Mike lost his fear as he got caught up in the reading, spelling, history, geography, and grammar lessons. The boys and girls were very nice and Mike relaxed. 'This is fun learning about new things' he thought. When one of the lessons was about adding apples to a crate, he raised his hand.
"Yes, Mike?" Miss Mason asked.
"How many apples fit into the crate to begin with?"
"Well, lets say 10," Miss Mason said thoughtfully.
"The Benson's sell their apples from a crate and they put 12 in each. So if you put 10 more in the crate, they would fall out." he said remembering what happened at the store when he tipped over one of the apple crates.
Some of the boys laughed and Miss Mason shushed them with a look and asked Mike how he knew about crates and apples.
"I spent a whole morning there the other day," Mike replied. "I had to stock an empty crate and Miss Benson had me count the apples. Some apples are larger than others but 12 fit in most of the crates."
"Hmm," Miss Mason murmured. "I didn't know that. Well, let's try this again. What if there are 12 apples in a crate and you take 1O out how many are left?"
The students were quiet for a few minutes and then Mike raised his hand. "There would be two left, Miss Mason," 'This was way to easy,' Mike thought to himself.
After lunch and recess, Mike and the class learned about Paul Revere. When Mort came by to pick him up and bring him back to the house, he had a new appreciation for school and an important question for Sheriff Mort.
"Sheriff Mort," he asked as they walked down the sidewalk, "when do you think Slim and Jess will let me go to school?"
Mort smiled down at him. It had been more than just a nice way to spend a Thursday, it had been an eye opening experience. "You liked school, Mike?"
Mike nodded. "I learned so much! Do you know Paul Revere was a hero and that Miss Mason doesn't know how many apples are in Benson's apple crates?"
Mort opened the door to his home and closed the door. Before Mike could shrug off his jacket, he leaned down and said "Mike, I didn't know about the apple crates either until you told me about them. Don't think that people are not as smart as you because you know more. Do you understand?"
Mike thought for a minute and then looked up in understanding. "Can you keep a secret?"
Mort nodded solemnly.
"Slim reads and writes better than Jess," he paused, feeling as if he were betraying a family secret but knowing that Sheriff Mort would never make fun of his 'father'. "Slim never makes him feel dumb," he continued, "he helps him understand things and always tells me that Jess has saved his life and that he is family."
"And that is exactly what I'm talking about, Mike. Jess didn't have the opportunity to go to school as much as Slim and yet he is a smart man in other ways. You're very lucky, Mike. You have the best of both of them loving you."