Chapter 4 - Big Brother

Jon slept on the couch for the rest of the night, if one could call it sleeping. He knew better than to think his words had gotten through to Shawn, or that the kid would forgive him anytime soon.

But there were no more incidents for the rest of the night. And the next morning, Shawn was even up and ready to go on time. He headed out to the school before Jon did, and Jon didn't hear about any incidents from any of Shawn's teachers. Jon had to drop by the staff room to pick up a couple of things before Shawn's class, and when he came back, he found Shawn at his desk among the earliest students, reading the assigned book.

Jon resisted the urge to pinch himself. He had no idea what had changed between yesterday and today; he was just glad it had.

Jon didn't say anything to Shawn as the other students filed in, not wanting to somehow break the spell. He wrote up the agenda on the board, and he dug through his file cabinet for papers to hand back to students and started passing them out to the ones who were present before the bell. Shawn hadn't turned in anything at all, but Jon wasn't worried about that. He was pretty sure Shawn had been absent when he had given the assignment, anyway.

The bell rang, and Jon finished passing out the last few papers before heading to the front of the classroom. "Can anyone tell me where we left off yesterday?" He knew where he had left off, but asking was a good strategy to get some of them looking back through their notes to refresh their own memories rather than relying on the teacher.

Predictably, though, Topanga was the only one with a hand raised. He nodded to her.

"1984. We were talking about Orwell's dystopian world."

"That's right. Orwell wrote 1984 as a warning about the future, right around the time when Nazism and Stalinism were getting popular. He writes about a totalitarian government, controlling people's actions, words, and even their thoughts. Now, can anyone tell me how the government stayed in power?"

This time, two hands went up. Topanga's, and amazingly, Shawn's.

Jon wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth. "Hunter. Talk to me."

"They had cameras and microphones installed everywhere. Called them telescreens. Between that and the secret police, no one could do or say anything without being heard by Big Brother. Only, if you ask me, I don't think Big Brother even existed."

It took effort for Jon to keep his jaw from dropping. "That's an excellent analysis. Now, does anyone know what happened to anyone who was caught saying something against the Party?

"No," Shawn said, this time without raising his hand. "They were erased, so no one really knew. But they had their suspicions. And we find out at the end of the book."

"Exactly right again. So, the problem—"

"You know what the main problem with the government in 1984 was?"

Jon stopped himself. Shawn had never been this engaged in class. Usually, none of his students were. "I'd be fascinated to hear your opinion."

"They turned families against each other."

Jon really, really should have seen this coming. "Ah—"

"If you think about it, families are really the backbone of American society. Wouldn't you agree, Jon?"

Shawn was supposed to call him Mr. Turner in class, but Jon couldn't have imagined correcting him. He tried to respond the way he would if this were a normal conversation in class. "Big Brother turned people in general against each other. Children ratted on their parents for speaking out against the Party, friends against friends—"

"And it wouldn't have been a problem if Big Brother had just left well enough alone and not stuck his nose where it didn't belong."

"Shawn," Cory whispered, "stop."

Jon swallowed. His students were paying more attention to him now than they ever did, and he couldn't even think about what his response would have been if he didn't know he was being attacked. "The government in 1984 didn't care about its constituents, only about power."

"That's an interesting way of looking at it. Would you say that applies today?"

He couldn't pretend anymore. "Shawn, can we pick this conversation up another time?"

"What? I thought we were talking about 1984."

"Anybody else?" Jon looked around at the rest of the class. They were more attentive than ever; Jon could only hope one of them would save him. "Any other opinions on the book?"

Not a hand went up. It was dead silent.

"I think they agree with me," Shawn said, standing up. "Big Brother really didn't care about his people. He tore apart families, pried into other peoples business, tried to control their lives. He just expected them to be OK with all this. Even to thank him." Shawn looked Jon right in the eyes. "Do you think they should be thanking him?"

"Shawn, sit down, please."

His students looked baffled now. Jon figured it had been obvious for a while that they were talking about something besides 1984, but they clearly hadn't expected it to escalate so much.

Shawn gave a self satisfied smirk. He had been trying to get under Jon's skin; clearly, he had gotten what he wanted. "Really, Jonathan?" He drew out the name. "I thought it was a pretty good analysis."

"That's Mr. Turner. You're in my classroom."

Shawn headed toward the door. "Oh, then let me just get out of your hair."

"Step out that door and it's two weeks' detention."

Shawn swore at Jon. It was a lot more foul than Jon had heard from the kid before.

"OK, you know what, Hunter? Forget it. Go to the principal's office."

"Thought you said I'd get two weeks of detention if I left the classroom."

"Oh, that's just a minimum now. Keep it up and you'll be grounded at home, too. Now get out."

Shawn set his jaw, straightened the collar on his shirt, and stalked out the door.

Jon slowly let his breath out as the classroom dissolved into whispers and murmurs. He had lost control. Really lost control.

He held up a hand for attention, and the students quieted. "I want you all to write a 500 word reflection on the use of the telescreens in 1984. Work diligently, get it done in class, and you won't have any homework."

That wasn't an offer he made very often. It was enough to get the kids on task pretty quickly, which gave Jon the space to make a quick call to the office and ensure Shawn got there. The secretary said that he had.

Jon sat down and pretended to be grading papers while his students worked, but his mind raced. He was so far in over his head. If he thought that first year with Shawn had been a challenge, he hadn't seen anything yet.

He tried to imagine what was happening at the principal's office. Maybe Shawn was giving Feeny the same attitude that he had given Jon in class. Jon couldn't imagine Feeny just sitting and taking it, though. He would find the right thing to say, even if it meant cracking down on the kid.

One by one, kids started turning in their papers to the front of the classroom. Topanga was one of the first, and she gave Jon a sympathetic look. Cory was one of the last, and he glared at Jon. That might've been frustrating, if Jon had been in any state to feel any emotion at all.

The bell rang for lunch, and everyone cleared out within a few seconds. Jon only waited until they were all out so he could lock the door behind them.

He went straight down to the office. Shawn hasn't come back to class, but that could mean anything; most likely, that he had fled campus after his conversation with Feeny.

Shawn was sitting on a hard plastic chair outside of the office. His elbows were on his knees, his chin in his hand, until he saw Jon coming. Then he sat up, a smug smile taking over his face. "Mr. Turner, the principal wants to see you in his office."

Jon wasn't sure what to make of the smile. He stepped into Feeny's office. "Thanks for taking care of him, George."

"Close the door behind you, Jonathan."

Something about the clipped way he spoke gave Jon pause. He closed the door and sat down, and Feeny stood up.

"Now, I'm going to be direct with you. Did you or did you not threaten to ground Mr. Hunter in front of your entire class, and then yell at him to get out?"

Jon's heart sank into his stomach. "Things got out of hand."

"And who's fault is that?"

"George—"

"It is your job to remain in control." Feeny's voice steadily rose. "God knows I've yelled at students before, but exposing their personal lives and issues to their classmates, that is a boundary we do not ever cross, and I never want to hear of it happening again in your classroom, Jonathan. Do I make myself clear?"

Jon felt about two inches tall. "You're right, George," he said softly.

Feeny let out his breath, and he lowered himself into the chair. "What happened in there?" His voice was much more gentle this time.

"He started making accusations." Jon shook his head. "Comparing me to Big Brother."

"1984?"

"Yeah."

"He read it?"

"Apparently."

"Well, that is impressive."

That was what Jon had thought in the first place. They were quiet for a moment.

Feeny folded his hands on the desk. "I think it's best if I take Shawn out of your class."

"Yeah. That's probably for the best," Jon said numbly.

"I understand he swore at you?"

"Yeah."

"That's grounds for two weeks' detentions—"

"Thank you—"

"—which you, of course, will oversee."

Jon felt his cheeks growing warm. It was the equivalent of giving both of them the exact same punishment.

"Now, I would advise you to find someone you can talk to, someone who can counsel you through this time."

"I sometimes took advice from Alan Matthews last year."

"Give him a call the minute school ends. You hear?"

"Loud and clear."

"And Jonathan?" Feeny looked him right in the eyes. "Take good care of that boy of yours. You're not the only one who cares about him."

Jon nodded, and he left the office. Shawn wasn't sitting outside anymore; Jon figured he had gone to get lunch. Jon wasn't feeling hungry himself, so he went back to the classroom and enjoyed a few minutes of quiet before the next class started.