Chapter 43 - Back to School

By the time school started again in January, the surviving children had mostly recovered. Some, like Joseph Curry and Bill Evans, were back to their old selves, while a few of them, like Han, were still underweight and easily tired.

The parents couldn't help but worry as they sent their children off to school for the first time since the epidemic. A desire for a return to normality battled a fierce impulse to hold their children close and not let them out of their sight.

They had a new school teacher to replace Mrs. Benton, a middle-aged man from Philadelphia named John Hall.

John Hall was not happy with his new post. He didn't like Kansas. He considered it below him to teach the children of farmers in a second-rate town. He had received an excellent education and everyone had been sure that he would achieve great things; then he began to have a problem with his drinking. At first, he had been able to hide it, but soon it began to take over his life. He was released from position after position until only the most desperate schools were left.

This little town in Kansas had found it hard to attract anyone, due to the low pay and the location. It was a little too close to the border in these difficult times and very few people wanted to take the risk. The townspeople had been amazed when a man of his qualifications had accepted the position; they knew nothing of his past.

He surveyed the children in front of him in dismay. In Philadelphia, he wouldn't have let any of them into his classroom to clean it and here he was about to teach them. He curled his lip in contempt.

Telling the students he wanted to see how proficient they were in their studies, he wrote several sums on the board, deliberately making them harder than they should have been. He told them to work on them, while he sat back and thought about how unfair life was. Sometime later, he became aware of a bustle in the classroom, as the children, who were now either finished or had given up on their task, started to talk and fidget in their seats.

As he turned back to the class, he saw a skinny, dark-haired boy completely turned in his seat and whispering to a small child with curly blond hair. Hall narrowed his eyes, stood up, and began to walk through the rows. The children, now silent, watched him.

"Did you all finish the sums I set for you?"

He saw some nod and others shake their heads. When he was beside the dark haired boy, he struck his cane against the boy's desk and was gratified to see the boy jump. "You, boy!"

Han licked his lips nervously. "Sir?"

"Stand up! Name?"

"Han Heyes, sir."

One of the older boys at the back of the class shouted out, "Hannibal!"

The teacher's lips curled again in a sneer. "Hannibal?"

"Yes, sir. But most people call me Han."

"Parents thought you might have a predilection for elephants, did they?"

Han chose not to answer that - mainly because he didn't know what 'predilection' meant - but from the back of the room someone called out, "He ain't got none!"

The master tried to see who had shouted but couldn't. He saw the flush of anger on the boy's face. "What don't you have, Hannibal?"

Again, Hannibal didn't answer; but this time, an answer was wanted.

The teacher struck the desk again, and again, the boy flinched. "Answer me, boy, what did he mean?"

"Well, I don't have any elephants," he answered, unable to resist as a few of the other children giggled. "But I think he meant I don't have any parents," he looked up at the teacher defiantly, "but I do!"

This time another voice called out from the back row, "Yeah, but they ain't yours, orphan-boy!"

There was a small peel of laughter from the other students.

The blond boy turned to glare at the boys in the back row. "He ain't an orphan anymore, he's my cousin!"

This time the teacher struck the blond boy's desk. The blond boy didn't flinch but glared at him. "Silence!"

Hall eyed the first boy speculatively. He could hear a trace of an accent. "Where are you from, boy?"

The boy considered his question for a long moment. "I live a mile or so out to the east."

John Hall didn't bother to conceal his irritation. "Where were you born?"

"New York."

Again, a voice from the back of the class volunteered, "Came here on the orphan train! Don't even know who his father was!"

Hall didn't like orphans. It was bad enough having to teach poor children from poor families, but a line should be drawn somewhere. Who knew where this boy came from? He could be the child of a prostitute or a criminal for all anyone knew.

Hall tightened his lips. He intended to make an example of this boy. "Did you finish the sums on the board?"

"Yes, sir."

"Give me the answer to the first question, Hannibal." He put as much contempt as possible into the ridiculous name.

"Ten plus five is fifteen, sir." Well, Hall thought, that one was easy.

"Question nine."

"Twenty-two plus forty-seven is sixty-nine."

"Sir!" the teacher reminded him.

"Sir."

"Question twelve." There was no way he would get that one right!

"Eight times seven is fifty-six, sir." Hannibal emphasized the form of address.

The master narrowed his eyes. The boy had been insolent, but it was nothing the teacher could call him out for. Yet. "Sit down."

He had hoped to humiliate the boy, but all his answers had so far been correct. A glance at his slate showed that the rest of the problems were right as well.

He stood over the blond boy that claimed to be the Heyes boy's cousin. "You, stand up! Name?"

"Jedediah Curry, sir."

"And where are you from, Curry?"

"I was born here, sir."

"Hmm. Show me your slate."

Jed cast a worried look towards his cousin and passed over his slate.

Hall smiled. This was better. "Most of these are wrong."

"Yes, sir."

John Hall saw that the dark-haired boy was angry, but also sensed that the others in the room didn't like him tormenting this boy, at least. Hannibal Heyes had his enemies, but Jedidiah Curry was obviously well liked. He decided that until he knew a little more about his students, he wasn't going to risk setting everyone against him simply to annoy one insolent orphan boy.

"Sit down, Curry. It seems we have work to do. How many others got the first problem right?"

He returned to his work and the rest of the lesson continued. It soon became obvious that although Heyes was a gifted student when it came to mathematics, his reading and writing were considerably below par.

It was demeaning to have to teach such ignoramuses.