Chapter Four – Tuesday
The next morning I get to school a little early so I can find my locker. The halls are pretty deserted as I search for my locker. All the lockers for the seniors are on the first floor, the lockers for juniors are on the second floor and the sophomores’ lockers are in the basement. Using the map I was given, and knowing the locker number it doesn’t take too long before I find the locker. The locker is fairly small with just one shelf and a place to put my jacket and my book bag. I brought a lock to put on the door, and after securing everything I decide to visit the library. The library is in the newer building across the street from the main building. I wander over and browse around the library, find a magazine to read, and sit at a table and begin to read it when I notice Kelly, the cute girl from English class walk in. I pretend to not see her and concentrate on reading the magazine. She doesn’t seem to notice me, and strolls over to the opposite corner of the room where she sits at a PC. After about a half hour or so, I put the magazine back, and head toward the door, to get ready for English class. As I open the door, Kelly approaches me fast from behind.
“Hey Bill, I was going to call you last night but I lost your phone number,” she tells me.
“That’s okay, I was kind of busy last night anyway,” I tell her as I hold the door open for her, and we walk toward the main building together.
“What were you doing?” she asks.
“Well, after I did my homework, I went to Chick-fil-A and applied for a job, then my dad and I went out for dinner,” I answer.
“Why would you want to work at Chick-fil-A?” she comments.
“They have decent hours for school, plus they are closed on Sundays,” I reply.
“But fast food is so bottom of the ladder,” she remarks.
“I guess you may be right, but at least they give kids the opportunity to have an after school job and some money for college. Do you work after school?” I ask.
“I baby sit every now and then, but nothing regular,” she answers, adding “I shouldn’t need much money for college since I plan on getting a scholarship to BYU.”
“What is BYU?” I question.
“You never heard of BYU? It’s only the best university in the world for member’s of my church,” she explains. “Where do you hope to go to school next year?”
“I was thinking of going to Boise State University,” I answer. “I walked around the campus yesterday and really liked it.”
“A lot of kids end up going there since it’s pretty safe, and they can live at home”, she answers, “I really want to get out of Boise and go back to Utah.”
“Why did you move here?” I question.
“My dad got a promotion with his company,” she answers. “He works at Micron and they are headquartered here in Boise.”
“Micron? I’m not familiar with that company. What do they do?” I ask
“You are obviously not from around here. They make memory chips, and they are like the biggest company making DRAM chips in the world,” she replies.
The more I talk to Kelly the more I really don’t like her, I think. We are getting close to the main building now, and I want to get away from her to get my notebook before English class starts.
“Well, I have to use the head before going to English class,” I tell her as I walk faster in front of her and open the door for her.
“Head?” What kind of place is that?” she questions.
“That’s what the restroom is called on a ship. My dad says that all the time. Sorry if I confused you?” I tell her.
“What is your dad, a sailor or something?” she asks.
“He’s a Coast Guard recruiter,” I tell her.
“Well, I’ll see you in English class then,” she says, as she walks down the hall toward the stairway. I turn in the opposite direction to my locker and get my notebook and make it to English class just before the first bell rings. Mrs. Baker is standing at the front of the class as I enter.
“Please get out your assignments and place them on my desk first thing,” she announces to the class.
I sit at the same desk as yesterday, get out my assignment and take it to the front of the class. Mrs. Baker has her back turned and is writing on the white board. My paper is the first one on her desk, and I place it face down. Kelly is right behind me, and smiles as she places her paper on top of mine.
I can tell she is thinking her paper is probably better than mine with the look in her eye. Just before the second bell rings, Karl walks in and sits at the same place he sat the day before. I make eye contact with him, and say “Hi”. Karl just smiles and sits in his chair looking half asleep.
“Everyone please turn in your assignments before class begins,” Mrs. Baker announces again.
Karl shuffles through his backpack and pulls out his paper and puts it on the growing stack of papers.
“I’ll get these papers graded tonight and returned to you tomorrow,” she says.
“Today we will distribute the first book we will be studying in class, “To Kill a Mockingbird”. She points to several boxes in the front of the class, and asks for a couple of volunteers to help her hand the books out.
“I’ll help,” Kelly sings out, as she jumps from her chair. The rest of the class is half asleep. I decide to help too, and follow Kelly to the front of the room.
“Thank you Kelly and Bill,” Mrs. Baker says. I pick up one of the boxes and carry it around the room handing out a book to each student. Kelly picks up a handful of books and hands them out on the other side of the room. Within a few minutes everyone in the class has a book.
“Harper Lee wrote the novel during a pivotal moment in American history,” she says to the class, as she writes the word Harper Lee on the white board.
I’m thinking, I’d rather be reading the book than have the teacher tell us all about it.
“Does anybody know what was going on when the book was written?” she asks the class. No one responds. After a few silent seconds, Kelly raises her hand.
“It was written during the civil rights movement,” Kelly answers.
“Yes, that’s correct, Kelly. The book was written during the late fifties and was published in 1960. A movie was made based on the book in 1962,” Mrs. Baker says. “Has anyone seen the movie?” she questions. No one responds.
I don’t know why teachers make such things like English so boring. Maybe it’s just the time of the day that makes this English class so rough. I really used to like English. Most kids would rather be home in bed at 8 in the morning, than listening to an old English teacher talk about an old book. The class drags on and just as I’m about to die from boredom, the bell rings, and it’s time to move on to the next class.
Before we leave, Mrs. Baker, announces, “The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do. Everyone remain seated. Tonight’s assignment is to read the first five chapters and write a one page synopsis to be handed in tomorrow.”
The 15 students in the class let out a collective groan, and a few people verbally protest, “Oh, man, no way.”
Welcome to the second day of your last year of high school, I think. I can hardly wait for college.
As we all leave English class Karl approaches me. “Oh man,” he says, “I don’t know what I’m going to do?”
“What’s the matter?” I ask as we walk down the hall.
“We have to read five chapters and then write a synopsis, and turn it in tomorrow. I don’t have a PC to use.” He explains.
“No problem, remember our deal?” I tell him. “You helped me get a job at Chick-fil-A now I’m going to help you get a PC. Keith called me last night and I start Thursday at Chick-fil-A,” I explain. “Today our stuff gets delivered and I have an old Mac I’ll give you.”
“Wow, that’s great!” Karl exclaims. “And here I was worrying for no reason. I should just trust in Jesus more and not worry so much.” Karl looks as if
I had just saved his life, or something.
“I’ll see you in Driver’s Training. I have American Government class I have to get to,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I have American History class this period. See you later,” Karl says as he hurries down the hall.
I make it to class just as the first bell rings, and sit at the same desk I did yesterday. I start reading the first page of To Kill A Mockingbird as Mr. Bixby comes into class and starts taking attendance, calling each student’s name and waiting for a “here, or a yeah”. After a few minutes he calls my name, and I respond with a “here”.
Mr. Bixby begins by saying, “I hope everyone had a chance to read the assigned reading last night because today I have a little quiz.”
A few people in the class whisper, “Oh no!” and “I haven’t read it yet.” as Mr. Bixby passes out the quiz. When Mr. Bixby hands me the quiz I read the first question and realize it is pretty basic stuff, with multiple-choice answers. I should be able to ace this quiz with no problem, I think.
The first question, “What form of government does the U. S. have?”
The choices are: A. Democracy, B. Republic C. Democratic Republic D. Federal Constitutional Republic.
I select D, since I read the reading assignment. The rest of the quiz is a breeze, and I feel confident I got all five answers correct. I put my pencil down and start to read To Kill a Mockingbird where I left off, while I wait for the rest of the class to finish the quiz.
After a few minutes, Mr. Bixby tells everyone time is up and to hand in the quiz. He then talks about the quiz and gives everyone the correct answers. I got all the questions correct. He tells the class each week to expect a quiz or two. The quizzes he says will help prepare us for the mid-term and later the final exam. Mr. Bixby lectures for the remainder of the hour and before the bell rings he gives the class another reading assignment. I don’t know how I’ll have time to read the assignment and also read the first five chapters of To Kill a Mockingbird, but I figure I can stay up late tonight to get it done.
The bell rings and I hurry to Driver’s Training anxious to get the next class over with so I can get home and see if the movers came yet. Karl is already in class when I get there.
“Hi Karl, how’s your day been so far?” I ask.
“I’m getting hit hard with homework already,” he tells me, “you’d think the teachers would give us a break and wait until the second week of school before piling it on.”
“I know what you mean. I got another reading assignment from American Government, plus what I already have from English.” I say.
“At least we hopefully won’t have anything from Driver’s Training,” Karl says, as the second bell rings and everyone sits at their desk and the teacher begins talking.
Mrs. Jones explains how the class will work from the second day forward. The class will be divided into two, and on alternating days half of the class will be out driving and the remainder of the class will be in the classroom. She arbitrarily splits the class by selecting the people sitting in the first two rows as class A, and the people sitting in the third and fourth rows as class B. “Class A will drive today and class B will drive tomorrow,” she says. I’m part of class A, so I go with the rest of class A outside where two cars are parked with student driver signs on them. The two instructors are waiting for us. The one instructor tells us to decide amongst ourselves who drives first. I volunteer to drive first and the other students agree. We all get into the car and the instructor tells me what to do each step of the way. After doing all the preliminary things we are taught to do before starting the car, I put the key in the ignition and start the car. I check my mirrors and put the car in reverse and slowly back out. The instructor tells me to slowly turn right at the entrance of the parking lot, and go to the corner and turn right. Driving a car is really easy. After fifteen minutes behind the wheel the instructor tells me to turn right into a parking lot. The next student drives for fifteen minutes before we switch again. By the time each of us has had a chance to drive it’s time to return to school. By the time we get back to school and park the car the bell has already rung, and most of the students are heading for lunch. Karl ended up being in the class B so I head back to the classroom and find him, and together we walk to the apartment.
I walk fast away from the school as Karl struggles to keep up. “I’m anxious to get home and see if the movers have been there yet,” I tell him as we walk through downtown Boise.
“I’m anxious to start reading To Kill a Mockingbird so I can get the homework done,” Karl says.
“I was able to read the first chapter in American Government and it’s going to be a pretty good book,” I say. “It seems to be about a little kid and her little brother.”
“I’ve seen the movie before and it is a neat story,” Karl tells me, “the movie was all in black and white. I don’t remember a whole lot about it, only that it was a few years ago that I saw it.”
“I’d like to see the movie too, one day, but first I’d like to finish the book,” I say, “Usually the movie is better if I read the book first. If I see the movie first and then read the book it isn’t as good.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Karl agrees. We wait for the light to change before crossing the street.
“Do you think we will have time to go to Office Depot and pick up our homework after we have it printed?” Karl asks.
“I’m not sure we will have to,” I tell him. “This morning I was in the library and they have computers and printers there for students to use.”
“Yeah, there are computers and printers in the library but I’ve never used them before,” Karl says. “Usually they are all being used whenever I’ve tried to use them before.”
“I guess you have to get there pretty early before everyone else gets there,” I say, “I was there this morning and hardly anyone else was there.”
“It’s still early in the school year,” Karl says, “Just wait until later it will be hard to find an available PC in the library.”
“I bet we could find a cheap printer on Craigslist,” I suggest. “I’ve never had to use one to do homework before. In Lowell all the teachers accepted homework via email.”
“Boy, that would be nice,” Karl says, “I guess Boise is still a little behind the times. What was school like in Lowell?” Karl asks.
“It was okay,” I say, “I was kind of a nerd, who didn’t get too much into anything other than just going to class.”
“Did you ever get bullied?” Karl asks.
“In middle school I did once, but I gave the kid a bloody nose, and he left me alone after that,” I say.
“I used to get bullied all the time until I got some piercings and started to wear my hair different,” Karl says, “Now kids think I’m crazy and just leave me alone.”
“To tell you the truth that was my first impression of you when I first saw you, but now I know differently,” I tell Karl. “I don’t know why some kids have to be so mean,” I remark as we walk down the street getting closer to my place.
“I think it has to do with how some kids feel insecure about themselves, and maybe by being mean to other kids they are able to feel better about themselves,” Karl offers.
“I don’t know. All I know is how awful some kids make me feel. Like that girl Kelly,” I say, “I talked to her this morning and she gave me the impression she thinks she is better than everyone else,” I explain.
“What did she say?” Karl asks.
“Oh, how she was going to go to BYU and how she thinks working at a fast food place is the bottom of the ladder,” I say.
“For Mormon kids, BYU is like the ultimate school,” Karl says. “Most Mormon kids go on their two year mission and then go on to BYU, like it is all planned out for them since they were born,” Karl explains.
“For me, I think my dad wants me to go to the Coast Guard Academy and become a Coast Guard officer,”
I tell him.
“What’s wrong with that?” Karl asks, “You make it sound like it’s something you wouldn’t even consider.”
“It isn’t that,” I explain, “But I really don’t want the kind of life the Coast Guard offers.”
“What’s Coast Guard life like?” Karl asks.
“It’s being away from your family for long periods of time and moving every four or five years,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I guess that might be tough for some people,” Karl agrees. “I think it would be an okay life for a little while. Like before a guy got married and had any kids.”
“I guess it might not be so bad then,” I say, “But I think my dad being gone for so long is what caused my parents to get divorced.”
“My parents got divorced when I was a little kid and I rarely see my dad any more,” Karl tells me. “He lives in California somewhere and has another wife and family.”
“That’s too bad,” I exclaim. “It must be hard on you and your mom.”
“It isn’t too bad,” Karl explains, “At least my dad is good at giving my mom child support. I don’t know what we would do without it. My mom baby sits and with my job we get by.”
“Wow, you make it sound like you are really poor, “ I say.
“We weren’t always so poor,” Karl explains, “It was just after my mom lost her job at Micron and we had to move out of our house and into the trailer park a few years ago. Since then my mom hasn’t been able to find a decent job.”
“That girl Kelly was telling me her dad works at Micron,” I tell him, “I had no idea what Micron was until Kelly explained they make memory chips.”
“Yeah, I guess her dad is some big wig executive there,” Karl says. “My mom worked in production and was making close to $20 an hour until they shipped production to a factory in China.”
“I guess that’s what a lot of companies are doing now days,” I say, not really knowing what else to say.
“It just doesn’t make any sense, to me, how American companies can ship American jobs to China and leave families without an income,” Karl says. “If it weren’t for all these jobs going to China, the economy would be doing a whole lot better.”
“I guess that’s one thing good about the Coast Guard,” I say. “At least that’s one job they can’t ship over to China.” I laugh and Karl joins me as we approach the front door of my building. We take the elevator and I use my key to unlock the front door. The living room is filled with boxes, and a couch and tables are placed around the edge of the room.
“Wow, your place looks completely different from yesterday,” Karl says.
“I guess the movers came this morning,” I tell him. “I thought my dad didn’t have to go to work today.” I go into my bedroom and find my bed, dresser, desk and all of my boxes waiting for me.
“Let’s see if I can find the box the Mac is in and I can show you how to use it,” I tell Karl, looking through all the boxes, until I find one labeled PC. “Here it is,” I exclaim. I get my pocketknife out and cut through the packing tape and carefully remove the monitor, mouse and keyboard and the Mac.
“I’ve never really seen a Mac like that before,” Karl says. “What kind is it?”
“It’s a Mac Mini.” I say. “It uses a typical VGA monitor and a USB keyboard and mouse,” I explain, “this one has a hard drive, whereas the newer models have a solid state hard drive.”
“It looks pretty new to me,” Karl says. I hook up the cables to the Mac and plug in the monitor and power the Mac on. It makes a familiar tone as the Apple logo appears on the screen.
“It has all the basic stuff you will need to get on the Internet and do your homework. I have Apache Open Office so you can do word processing and stuff. I’ll just copy and delete all of my personal files and you can take it home with you.” I explain, as I find a USB thumb drive and begin to copy all the files from my personal folders. “Since I bought my laptop back in June I hardly ever use this Mac anymore.”
“It sure is nice of you to just give me your old Mac,” Karl says. “Can I at least give you a couple hundred dollars for it?” Karl asks.
“It really isn’t even worth that much,” I explain. “This model uses the PowerPC chip so it can’t run the latest version of the Mac Operating System. You could probably find one on Craigslist for $150 or so, but even that is more than it’s worth.”
“I really appreciate it,” Karl says. “I’m really glad I was able to help you get a job at Chick-fil-A, even though I’m sure you could have gotten the job without me.”
“I’m anxious to get started Thursday,” I tell him. “Do you need a thumb drive so you can print off your homework at the library?” I ask him, as I find several thumb drives in another box. “I can give you this 1 gigabyte one after I get all the stuff off of it.”
“That would be nice,” Karl says. “I don’t have any of those.”
I hear the front door open and close and holler, “Dad is that you?”
“Yeah, I just had to go out for something to eat,” he answers.
“I’m in here with Karl,” I say.
My dad walks into the room dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. “The movers were here first thing this morning,” he says.
“Dad, this is my friend Karl,” I say. My dad steps across the room and puts his hand out as Karl stands and shakes hands.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Karl says.
“Good to meet you Karl. It sure is nice of you to help Bill get situated in school and help him get a job,” my dad says.
“I’m glad to help out,” Karl says. “It sure is nice of Bill to help me out too.”
“Well, we all try to do our best to help everyone we can,” my dad says. “That’s just the way we do whenever we move to a new place.”
Karl smiles, and shakes his head and pauses for a minute. “I bet you would like my church,” Karl offers. “There are all sorts of friendly people who would make you feel right at home.”
“I’m not the church type,” my dad explains. “To tell you the truth I haven’t been in a church since I was a kid.”
Karl looks deep into my dad’s eyes, and tells him, “You know Jesus loves you and wants to have a personal relationship with you. Going to church is one way to establish that kind of relationship.”
“I’m not so sure about that Karl,” my dad says, “my experience with church has been something completely different.”
“You know sir, church has changed a lot since you were a little kid. At least that’s what my mom tells me. She says she hated church when she was a kid but now days she can’t get enough,” Karl explains.
“Well, maybe we will just have to visit your church one of these days,” my dad says. Trying to change the subject he continues, “I could give you a ride home later.”
“That would be great,” Karl says, “I could introduce you to my mom. I think you’d like her.”
“What is your mom like?” my dad asks.
“Well, she’s about your age, and she has a nice sense of humor, and she keeps herself looking pretty good, if I do say so myself,” Karl says, with a slight grin on his face.
“Maybe after you two get your homework done I’ll take you home then,” my dad offers. “I have to get some boxes unpacked so I’ll let you two alone.”
My dad turns and walks out the door, and goes into the living room. I about have all my personal files taken off the Mac, and copied onto the thumb drive. “Let me show you a few of the programs on here,” I tell Karl as I point the mouse at the various symbols at the bottom of the screen.
“Your dad sure seems like a nice guy,” Karl says, “I think he and my mom would really hit it off.”
“I don’t think my dad really is looking at getting into another relationship so soon after my mom,” I explain. “He really took the divorce kind of bad, and I don’t know if he is ready for someone else yet.”
; “Yeah. I guess it must be tough being an adult sometimes,” Karl agrees. “I’ve never really had a serious girl friend before so I have no idea what it must be like getting dumped, yet alone divorced.”
“I don’t know either, other than being a kid seeing your parents get divorced really sucks big time,” I say. “Especially after my mom cheated on my dad and is living with the guy now.”
All Karl says is, “Bummer dude.”
After all my personal files are removed from the Mac and I’ve shown Karl how to use it, I turn it off and disconnect all the cables and put it back in the box. I sit on the bed and Karl lies on the floor as we read the first five chapters of To Kill a Mockingbird. I can hear my dad out in the living room unpacking boxes. It takes us only about an hour to finish reading.
“Well, I guess we should write up the synopsis,” I suggest, as I get my laptop out and set it up on the desk.
“I’m really not sure what a synopsis is,” Karl says.
“I’m not too sure either,” I say, “I guess it must be like a summary.”
“The teacher didn’t really explain what it was. Maybe she was expecting us to find out on our own,” Karl says.
“I really haven’t figured out these teachers here yet,” I say. “They seem to be a little different from the teachers in Lowell.”
“How so?” Karl asks.
“Maybe I’m a little too quick to judge, but the teachers so far seem to just be filling time just to get through the class and don’t really seem to be worried if the kids are learning anything,” I explain.
“It’s hard to tell just after two days,” Karl says, “But it probably doesn’t help if the teacher doesn’t like teaching and would rather be doing something else.”
“I’ve thought about being a teacher,” I tell him. “I think teaching would be one of the more rewarding jobs a person could do.”
“I guess it would be depending on whether you had a passion for the subject and could have a little flexibility in how you taught,” Karl says, as he puts his book back in his book bag. “I think I’ll write the synopsis later this evening.”
“Maybe for high school teachers it’s a little different,” I say. “Maybe their job is not to teach so much, but to enable the kids to learn on their own, and just provide them with the tools.
“Yeah, like how Mrs. Baker thinks she is preparing us for college by telling us to write a synopsis, without telling us what a synopsis is,” Karl argues.
“Let’s Google it, and see what it says,” I say as I type the words “To Kill a Mockingbird Synopsis”. A few seconds later over two hundred thousand results are found. I click on the first option and find an individual synopsis of each chapter.
“I was right,” I exclaim, “All a synopsis really is is just a brief summary. This should be a breeze.”
“I can’t imagine what the world was like before the Internet,” Karl says. “I guess we really have it a lot easier than previous generations.”
“It’s a lot easier,” I agree, “But also a lot harder.”
“How so?” Karl asks.
“Well, we just spent an hour reading the first five chapters, and then it took us just a few minutes to find the synopsis on the Internet. Now we have to write our own synopsis without using anything from the synopsis we found on the Internet.” I explain. “It’s really hard not to do the easy thing and cheat.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Being honest and avoiding the temptation to cheat is hard.” Karl says. “Any new technology brings with it a little bit of good with a little bit of bad.”
“That isn’t always the case,” I say.
“No matter what changes happen,” Karl explains, “the devil will always work his way into things to make it bad. Just look at the Internet and all the porn that is out there.”
“Yeah, I guess if you look at it that way it is bad, but from the other perspective, it’s also easier for guys like us to learn about female human anatomy,” I joke.
Karl gets serious and says, “That is the way of the devil to turn God’s creation into something evil.”
“Does everything have to deal with the devil and God?” I ask.
“Don’t you know the whole human struggle is between God and the devil?” Karl exclaims.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“From the very beginning of time after God created the world, the devil has had his hand in everything trying to keep people from developing a personal relationship with God,” Karl explains. “The devil and God are at a constant battle for everyone’s soul.”
“Wow, that is really heavy,” I say. “Can’t we just be neutral and not choose sides and stay out of the battle between God and the devil?”
“I don’t know how we can do that since we are all right in the middle of it,” Karl explains. “It would be like you staying out of your mom and dad’s divorce.”
“Okay, I think I know what you are trying to say. But I just can’t understand what God and the devil has to do with me since I really am not sure they even exist.” I tell Karl, trying not to provoke his anger.
“You know Bill, I’ve got to tell you something that might just save your life.” Karl explains, looking really serious. “You know back about a hundred years ago people didn’t know about bacteria and viruses like they do now. They thought when someone got sick and died it was just a part of life. Millions of people died from diseases that could have easily been prevented through basic sanitation just because they didn’t think micro organisms existed.”
“What does all that have to do with God and the devil?” I ask.
“I was trying to make the point that even though you might be unaware of something existing like bacteria or God or the devil, they are real and can impact your future for good or bad,” Karl says.
“Okay, I get your point.” I say. “Maybe I really need to think more on a deeper level.”
“It isn’t so much on a deeper level, but on a spiritual level, instead of a physical or an intellectual level,” Karl explains. “God and the devil aren’t something easily explained physically or intellectually, since they exist spiritually. Reading the Bible and seeing how God impacts people’s lives is how I have gotten to know Him to be real.”
“How do you know the Bible is true?” I ask.
“The only way I know it’s true is by having faith,” Karl says. “Its like how do you know when you walk on a bridge it will hold your weight, or when you breath the air it won’t kill you.”
After thinking for a few seconds, I understand where Karl is coming from. “I think I’m starting to understand Karl,” I tell him. “Are you about ready to go home?” I ask.
“Yeah, I guess I should get home and get finished with the homework,” Karl answers.
I hand Karl the box with the Mac in it, and he puts it under his arm and picks up his book bag with his other hand. We walk out to the living room and find my dad busy unpacking boxes and putting things in the kitchen cupboards.
“Are you guys ready to go?” my dad asks.
“Yeah, whenever you are,” I reply.
We all go down the elevator to the basement where my dad’s truck is parked. Karl sits in front and I sit behind him in the jump seat of the extended cab. Karl holds the box with the computer on his lap, and places his book bag on the seat next to him. My dad backs out and drives out of the garage, and turns onto the street.
“You’ll have to give me directions Karl,” he says. “I’m not really sure where you live.”
“Just go through downtown and turn left onto Ninth Street,” Karl tells him. “I live near Boise State, just off Boise Avenue.”
My dad drives slowly through downtown and hits all the lights red. While we wait for the light to change, my dad asks Karl, “How long have you lived here in Boise?”
“Most of my life,” Karl responds. “I wasn’t born here, but my mom moved me here after she and my dad divorced.”
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“It seems like a nice little city,” my dad comments. “I think I’m going to like living here.”
“It’s been a pretty nice place to grow up for me,” Karl replies, “But there aren’t a lot of well paying jobs, unless you have a college education.”
“Well, I hope you are planning to continue on to college after you finish high school,” my dad says.
“I’d like to,” Karl says, “But I’m not sure I can afford to.”
“How are your grades in school?” my dad asks.
“They’re pretty good, I’ve been carrying a 3.9 average all through school.” Karl answers.
“In that case you should be able to get a scholarship then,” my dad tells him.
“I sure hope so, plus I can work and put myself through school,” he says.
We drive past Boise State and Karl directs my dad to get in the left hand lane and to turn left at the next light. After we go through the light we turn right into a small trailer park with a bunch of newer looking trailers all crammed together with parking spots between them. A lot of bikes lean against the trailers and older cars are parked nearby.
“This is my place,” Karl announces as we drive by a trailer with an older Toyota sedan parked in front. “You can park right in front there,” Karl says pointing to a space in front of the blue Toyota. “Come on in and meet my mom.”
After we park the truck we all get out and Karl leads us to the door of the trailer. It actually is a nice looking trailer, more like a house really, than a trailer. It has a pitched roof and wood siding painted a light green color, and there are a few steps we have to climb to get to the front door. Once we are through the front door we are standing in the living room and Karl’s mom is sitting at the kitchen table holding a small baby.
“This is my mom,” Karl says, “Mom this is John and Bill McDougall. I told you about Bill yesterday.”
“Oh yes, I remember, the guy who just moved here from Boston,” she says. “Well it sure is nice to meet you. My name is Carol.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” my dad and I both say at about the same time.
“Bill let me have his old computer so I can work on my homework at home,” Karl says. “I helped him get a job at Chick-fil-A.”
“That was awfully nice of you Bill,” Carol says. “I’m sure we can pay you for it. You don’t have to give it away.”
“That isn’t necessary,” I tell her, “Karl already offered to pay me for it, but I told him it really isn’t worth that much.”
“Well, then I sure want to thank you for it.” Carol says. “It will sure save Karl lots of time and trouble being able to work on his homework at home.”
“All he really needs is a Wi-Fi connection to the Internet and he’ll be all set,” I comment.
“I think with all the college kids near by there is bound to be someone who may be willing to share their Internet with us,” Carol speculates. “I baby sit for a few of the kids, so they may be willing to give us access.”
“Well, it was really nice to meet you Carol,” my dad says, “but I think we should be getting along. We have a lot more boxes to unpack before we can call it a day.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help you or Bill you let me know,” Carol offers.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” my dad says as he backs toward the door. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“Why don’t we plan on meeting tomorrow in the library at school,” I tell Karl. “We can get there early enough before all the PCs are being used.”
“Okay,” Karl replies. “I’ll be there before 7. I think the library opens at 6:30.”
“See you tomorrow, then,” I say as I walk through the door. My dad is already out by the truck as I close the door behind me. I hurry and get in the truck as my dad starts the engine.
“Carol sure seems like a nice lady,” I offer.
“Yeah, she seems okay,” my dad comments. “But I’m not sure about Karl. I just have a weird feeling about the kid.”
“Why’s that?” I ask.
“He looks kind of rough, and then he talks about God and the church, and seems to be a nice kid, but I just can’t get past those piercings on his face, and his hair.” My dad has a special way of judging people, looking beyond the obvious to see the depth of a person’s character, but still his military being wants everyone to look squared away. That’s part of his job as a recruiter to be able to judge whether an individual will be a good fit in the Coast Guard.
“He and his mom have had it pretty rough lately,” I tell him. “His mom was laid off when the company she worked at sent her job to China.”
“I see that happen more and more all the time,” my dad says. “It makes me thankful for the job I have.”
“What do you think of going to church with Karl and his mom some day?” I ask.
“It wouldn’t hurt, I guess,” he says. “As long as you don’t go overboard and become obsessive about it.”
“You know I could never do that,” I tell him, “We aren’t the church type of people.”
Once we get back to the apartment we continue to unpack boxes and get settled. The place starts looking like it did when we lived in Lowell and having all my old stuff reminds me of my mom and my sister and how we were once a happy family. I still can’t get over how my mom left my dad and hooked up with that other guy. I haven’t spoken to her since she left, and don’t intend to ever speak to her again. I just can’t find any value in having a relationship with her after what she did.