The Battle for Room 314 by Ed Boland

The Battle for Room 314 by Ed Boland

Author:Ed Boland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2016-02-09T05:00:00+00:00


In January, about a month after my visit to Wilson’s room, Mei pulled me aside during my free period. She was always smiling, so it was hard to know if she would be sharing good news or bad. “Freddy is going to be promoted from the seventh to the ninth grade.”

“Freddy, from Wilson’s class? Don’t tell me that kid managed to meet grade requirements.”

“No. I wish.” She snickered. “It’s just that he’s sixteen now and getting ridiculously old to be in middle school. He’s outgrowing those little desks in the Special Education room. He’ll start with you on Monday, if he chooses to grace us with his presence that day. Good luck with him.” Unlike the hard-ass Gretchen, Mei had an inimitable way of presenting bad news and near-impossible challenges with such optimism and humor that it always softened the blow.

“I can’t wait to have another young scholar join our ranks,” I said, trying to match her good cheer.

I announced to the second-period class that Freddy would be starting with us the next day.

“Freddy? Man, that kid is old. He’s too hairy to be a freshman. He’s got hair everywhere,” Fat Clovis blurted out. Ninth-grade boys cherished every wisp of facial hair, every spiky whisker, and they enviously noted any growth on others.

“Everybody, please make an effort to welcome him,” I said.

As soon as I turned my back, someone added matter-of-factly, “Yeah. Be nice to that hairy criminal or he will fuck you up.”

I was quickly learning not to ignore comments like that. Gossip, jokes, and even slander held important clues about what might be going on with students, so right away I launched into a fact-finding mission. Even by tough public school standards, Freddy had been dealt a rank-bad hand: a father who was nowhere in sight; a mother in the Bronx projects with serious diabetes; and an older brother, a gangbanger, who was imprisoned on Rikers Island for running a drug ring. Freddy had joined the family business and been arrested for dealing himself. The family’s housing situation was in serious jeopardy because of laws designed to evict convicted drug dealers from public housing. He was the sole breadwinner in the house.

Freddy was in court not long before the start of the school year. When a judge offered him a year at Rikers or three years of probation, Freddy said he would take Rikers. In all his years on the bench, the judge had never had anyone take that option before and responded, “Son, do you know what a rhetorical question is?” Freddy shook his head no. The judge declined the kid’s request and gave him probation.

Given Freddy’s reputation and confirmed criminal record, I was afraid to have him in my class. The last thing I needed was another problem child, and this one sounded epic. My fears, it turned out, were unfounded. This kid, on the rare occasions when he showed up, was a peach. He rarely spoke to me or anybody else. For most of the period, he would just stare forward.



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