CHAPTER TEN
Miss Fairbank's other classes throughout the rest of the day had roughly the same experience. Her second period class chose a flying fish and a cactus as its comic strip characters. They decided to blow up the school in the literal sense, with hot air that shot it far up into the sky. The hot air was generated by all the bullies and show-offs, bragging about how great they were.
And so it went. Third period had a frozen pizza and an old guy in a wheelchair as characters, while fourth period chose a thorn bush and a thundercloud. Truly, the creative minds of the students at Inner City Junior High School knew no bounds.
As for Miss Fairbanks, she was greatly relieved that her 'awful' students seemed to be helping her cope with what had happened last Friday, with their ridiculous ideas. Indeed, she was helped so much that she began to think something no teacher at Inner City Junior High had ever thought before--that it was a shame the school day had to end. This was especially true since she knew Heather and Jerry would probably show up in her classroom after school, but Brent would not be there. She wasn't sure she could face his empty seat.
But of course, whether she wanted it to or not, the school day finally did come to an end. Not long after the final bell rang, Heather came into the room. "Thank you for the picture of Garfield," said Miss Fairbanks quickly before Heather could say anything. The girl smiled shyly and took a seat.
"I hoped you'd like it," she said simply. They both knew the events of Friday were the real motivation for it being on Miss Fairbank's desk first thing in the morning, rather than now after school. But neither said anything about that of course.
A minute later, Jerry came into the room. But to Miss Fairbank's surprise he was not alone. The quiet boy with owl glasses from first period was with him. Miss Fairbanks soon discovered that his name was Melvin Dugard. The first thing he asked was, "So is this really the 'loser's club' like everyone is saying?"
"Not at all!" exclaimed Miss Fairbanks with a frown. Melvin just nodded. "That confirms it, then. When a teacher denies something, the opposite is usually true."
Miss Fairbanks glared at him. "Who has been saying this is the loser's club, and where did they get such a ridiculous idea?"
Melvin and Jerry both shrugged. "Everyone's saying it," said Jerry, while moving his big body into a seat. "Even my other teachers and the lunch ladies. I don't know where they got the idea. Probably just made it up. I guess it's not very smart for me to show up here knowing I'm going to catch it from the idiots in this school for being in the loser's club, but I'm always catching it from them anyway. And besides, coming here is still better than going home." Heather nodded in agreement.
"And why are you here?" Miss Fairbanks snapped at Melvin, incensed that people were labeling her after-school classroom as a place for losers. She instantly felt guilty, since being snappish was not her usual behavior.
Melvin shrugged. "Names like the 'losers club' don't bother me," he said casually. "I came because Jerry said you wanted help decorating this room. And besides, if I go home now there's nothing to do but watch my dad drink himself into a stupor."
"You too?" exclaimed Miss Fairbanks. "Don't parents in this neighborhood do anything other than drink?"
"It's the only way they can cope with this awful neighborhood," said Melvin matter-of-factly.
Miss Fairbanks threw up her hands. "The opposite is true!" she cried. "It's because they drink that this neighborhood is so awful! If people wouldn't throw their lives away drinking, they could spend their time improving things. Drinking is the stupidest thing a person can do, because it's like throwing away God's greatest gift--the ability to make rational choices."
"You're not supposed to mention God in school," said Melvin, who was apparently the class know-it-all that most people naturally despise.
"Tell that to all the kids swearing in my classes," replied Miss Fairbanks.
Melvin smiled. "You've got a point there."
It was obviously time to change the subject. But Heather's next question probably wasn't the best option to change it to. "So, what happened with Brent? He seemed like a normal guy, then suddenly he tripped out."
Miss Fairbank's shoulders slumped. In a low voice she said, "His step-dad killed his cat, which was the only creature in the world that cared about him."
Heather nodded in sudden understanding. For a moment no one said anything. "I hope he's ok," mumbled Miss Fairbanks. "I'm going to go visit him tonight, if I can."
"Probably won't be able to," said Melvin blandly. "Juvenile detention usually won't allow non-family visitors this soon." Miss Fairbanks lips trembled. "I intend to try," she said firmly.
Melvin looked around at the ugly walls, and then up at the blackboard where the sixth period comic strip was still on the board. He read it and smiled, which proved that it was a good one. It showed a toothbrush saying to a jar of pickles, "Did you bring the bomb to blow up the school?" The jar of pickles said, "No." In the second box the toothbrush said, "Why not?" and the jar of pickles responded, "I found a better way to destroy it." In the third box the toothbrush asked, "What better way?" and the jar of pickles said, "Red paint." In the fourth panel the jar of pickles explained, "We'll paint the roof to look like an Air Force target, and hope the jets won't know the difference!"
"Very creative," said Melvin. "Only air force targets have more colors on them than just red."
"How do you know that?" asked Miss Fairbanks curiously. "Does your dad work in the air force?"
"My uncle does," said Melvin. "He flies all over the world. I wish I could be just like him someday." He frowned.
"And why can't you?" asked Miss Fairbanks. "People can usually achieve their dream if they try hard enough."
"Not in my case," replied Melvin. He pointed at the glasses on his nose. "The Air Force only takes pilots with perfect vision. I'll probably end up working at the slaughterhouse, just like my dad."
"My dad works there too," said Heather, looking over at Melvin. "Sometimes he comes home covered in blood. Does your dad do that?"
"Naw, he works in the chicken side," replied Melvin. "He mostly comes home stinking like chicken gizzards. Sometimes they let him take home the leftover feet and necks, and Mom boils 'em in a stew."
Miss Fairbanks could see Heather about to ask another question, and hastily changed the subject. The queasy feeling in her stomach told her they needed to stop talking about blood and gizzards, or she'd have to take a quick trip to the bathroom and lose her lunch.
"So," she said loudly to Melvin, "why don't you just skip the Air Force and become an airline pilot? The airlines don't care if you wear glasses, do they? I've seen pilots with glasses."
"No, they don't mind as much, although they still would rather you don't have them" said Melvin. "But it takes money to get into a pilot training school for the airlines. Most guys get into the airlines by joining the Air Force or Navy or Marines first in order to be trained for free. I'd love to fly, but I probably never will. It's too expensive."
Miss Fairbanks unexpectedly came over and shook Melvin's hand, while everyone just looked at her curiously. "Congratulations," she said heartily. "You have just confirmed that this must indeed be the 'loser's club.' Only losers give up on their dreams so easily!" Melvin scowled up at her. "I'm not a loser," he said viciously.
"Then prove it!" cried Miss Fairbanks. "Don't take no for an answer. Improve your attitude of yourself and what you can accomplish! Keep trying to figure out a way to do things, then make them happen! Doers create their world, rather than just waiting for it to happen to them. Doers act. Losers only react."
"Well, you must be a loser too, then," said Melvin rudely. "Why else would you be teaching at this loser school?" Miss Fairbanks gaped at him as if he'd gone crazy.
"This is not a loser school!" she cried emphatically. "Which should be obvious because it has YOU three in it! I cannot understand why people keep putting down this school as if it's full of hopeless losers! That's only true if we think it is! And people
only think that because other people keep saying it! It's time to throw away that image and see this school for what it really is!" She spread her hands wide in another of her dramatic, needless gestures.
"What is this school then?" asked Jerry curiously.
"A hospital for misguided winners!" cried Miss Fairbanks. "It's a place where each student has unlimited potential, but many have been so messed up they just can't see it! So they come here to school every day hoping someone will cure their illness of despair and hopelessness. That's where we teachers come in."
"I always thought the teachers here were nuts," said Jerry.
"Or that they had a death wish," added Melvin.
"Do you actually like teaching here, Miss Fairbanks?" asked Heather curiously. "I mean, we have to come here every day because we don't have any choice. And most of the other teachers here frankly tell us they hate it, and are moving on as soon as they can. But you seem to be different. Why do you come here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" cried Miss Fairbanks looking from one to the other. The three of them continued to just give her blank stares. "Because of YOU!" she finally cried, throwing up her arms again. She suddenly turned and pointed at the blackboard. "Do you know what I saw in my classes today?" They all dumbly shook their heads. "I saw wonderful, fun, creative ideas by wonderful, fun, creative people. I saw how happy you all are when you're doing something that sparks your brains into action."
"The action of most brains in this school is just to criticize," said Jerry. "That's what they're always doing with me, anyway. Saying I'm dumb."
"A lot of students are critical like that," said Miss Fairbanks. "But I'm hoping to change that." She paused, while some of the fire went out of her eyes. Then she suddenly said, "I suppose if anyone here is dumb, it's me."
"You?" cried all three voices at once. "You're not dumb, Miss Fairbanks!" said Heather firmly. "You're the most undumb person I've seen in this school!"
Miss Fairbanks smiled blandly at Heather. "Thank you, Heather," she said softly. "I only said that about me being dumb because of what I believe. And I believe that the kids here are NOT losers, are NOT hopeless, and that they DO have a wonderful potential, if they will only reach inside and find it! And the way everyone else talks about the kids here, I must be dumb because I seem to be the only one that believes otherwise."
There was silence in the classroom for a moment. Then Melvin looked at her and said softly, "Then I hope you stay dumb, Miss Fairbanks. I hope you never wise up, and get smart like everybody else."
Miss Fairbanks looked at him and smiled. "Thank you Melvin. That's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me!"