Operation Scarecrowe

By Lisa Sinnock

...a clip from the middle

Mr. Nealy asked a question, but only blank stares answered him.  He hung his head and sighed.  “Again.  What principle governs the process we just described?”  He began to walk down one of the isles while he spoke.  Steve Kiederowsky piped up with, “Uh, Mr. Cross”, referring to the school principal.  Laughter rippled around the room.  Nonchalantly, Mr. Nealy turned around and leaned over Joseph’s shoulder and clicked his tongue.  “Texting in my class?”

          Surprised, Joseph closed the phone so fast the click was heard across the room.  Snickers rose up around the room like pollen in the breeze.  The phone appeared in the teacher’s hand before Joseph knew what happened.

          “Hey!  That’s mine!”

          “And this is my class.  You’ll get it back when class is over.”

          While he strolled to his desk, Mr. Nealy opened the phone.

Joseph panicked.  “Oh, Man, you can’t read it!”

          Mr. Nealy paused in mid stride, his face sober.  The phone disappeared into his back pocket. 

          “fffft!” Joseph blew air out from between his teeth and threw his hands up in exasperation.

w w w

          When the bell rang to mark the end of the hour, Mr. Nealy pulled his rolling chair back from his desk, and then thought better of sitting down.  He turned back toward the students.

          “Joseph, you’re staying.  Class dismissed.”

          With a disgusted scoff, Joseph slapped his desk and slumped against the back of the chair.

          Hayden, who sat directly behind Joseph, gathered his papers and book and leaned over Joseph’s shoulder.  “If my name comes up, you’ll wish it hadn’t.”

          When the last student exited the room, John Nealy closed the door, returned to his chair and sat, hands folded on the desk, the phone still in his back pocket.  To Joseph, it appeared that he dozed off.  In fact, he prayed.

          “C’mon!  It’s lunch time!” Joseph spewed.

          Slowly, the teacher stood.  “I have to make a decision here.  I’ve caught you doing something illegal.”

          Joseph slid out of his chair and made his way to the front of the room.  “It’s not illegal to share information.  If I don’t tell him, he’ll just get it some other way.  Everyone’s got some.”

          “You know, kids sometimes die from this stuff.”

          “Yeah?  Well, then, they’ll die happy.  And it’s their choice.”

          “You really believe that?”  Mr. Nealy found this to be the most difficult part of his job.  More often, lately, he watched good kids make bad choices, and there was, apparently, nothing he could do about it.  He pulled the phone out of his pocket and silently slid it to the edge of the desk.

          With a shrug, Joseph snatched up the phone.  “If I were your kid, you could tell me not to do it.  Would I listen?  Probably not.”  His victorious smile cut a jagged tear in John’s soul.

          Bleeding within, Mr. Nealy slowly sank back into his chair, as the door swung open and Joseph disappeared.  “You are one of my kids.”