You Deserve Nothing - Alexander Maksik [43]
“The others start giggling but I know exactly what’s happening and I smile at her and then all the other kids, none of whom have yet understood the poem, shut up, and Marie says, ‘It’s just another guy trying to get laid.’ Of course she’s right and she takes ten minutes to explain the whole thing to the class. It’s not as if she’s really literary but she saw the whole thing. While all the little SAT drones were looking for metaphors and similes, she just, click, gets it. ‘All that to hook up with this girl? So lame. Just say what you want. Be a man,’ she says. We spent the rest of the period talking about how men are pathetic. An excellent morning.”
I loved the way Mia spoke about her students. I knew no one else who believed so certainly in what she did. I loved the way she taught, the way she worked for those kids, but I could barely look at her.
As we were finishing our lunches I glanced up to see Gilad walking back along the walkway from the cafeteria. When he passed, I waved.
He smiled and turned into the upper school building.
“That’s him? The kid you kept from classes? The one you’re morally bankrupting?”
I nodded.
“I’ve seen him around. He’s alone a lot.”
“Always. I like him. He makes me want to be good. I have a few this year. But he’s at the top of the list. You should sit in on the seminar. It’s great.”
“Just let me know when.”
“Any time.”
“So what else, William?”
“Besides our new psychologist? And my recklessness? Well, let’s see. There was the discussion of my responsibility not to challenge the faith of my students. Oh, and apparently she doesn’t want me to encourage them to commit suicide.”
“Well that’s unreasonable.”
“I think so. Omar Al Mady is complaining that Abdul feels uncomfortable, attacked, and persecuted and Omar, she called him Omar like we were all drinking buddies, isn’t happy. I told her that it was my job to challenge the faith of my students, blah, blah, blah. But she was absolutely against it. No time for an academic argument, she said.”
I heard a high pitched, “Mr. Silver!”
Julia Tompkins and Lydia Winton were walking toward us waving.
“Here’s your fan club. We’ll finish this later.” Mia put her hand on my knee. “Will. Will.” She shook her head. Then she smiled her sad smile, pushed herself to her feet and brushed the grass from her jeans. “I’ll leave you to bask in their adoration.”
She waved at the girls and headed back to the office. I watched her walk away across the field.
Julia dropped down next to me. “What’s up, Mr. Silver? What’s for lunch?”
She rummaged through my plastic bag.
Lydia, a year older and five years more sophisticated, sat down and looked at me purposefully.
“So, Silver, we’ve got a proposal for you,” she said.
“Yeah? What is it?”
“Lit mag,” Julia said. “Will you do it?”
“When?”
“Whenever you want to. Any day of the week after school.”
“Except Friday. Obviously,” Lydia said.
“Obviously,” Julia rolled her eyes.
“Obviously,” I said. “Find anything you like, Julia?”
She glanced one last time at the lunch bag, dropped it, shrugged and said, “Not really. And don’t change the subject, will you do it?”
“Who else wants to do this?”
“Who knows?” Lydia had closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sun. “But believe me, Silver, people will sign up if you’re the advisor.”
“Totally,” Julia laughed.
“But then, you know that already,” Lydia said.
“I don’t think there will be all that much interest but O.K. We’ll do it on Wednesday afternoons. I’ll get Ms. Keller to help. I mean if anyone shows up.”
“Yay!” Julia punched me on the shoulder.
“I knew you’d say yes,” Lydia said cocking her head to the side and smiling at me.
I stood up.
“Thanks, Silver,” Lydia said.
MARIE
He didn