CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next day, the fascinating tale of The Hobbit continued. Other than a few jealous and snide comments about the new pictures of Charlie Brown, Jon and Green Arrow that now graced the walls, the students clamored for Miss Fairbanks to start reading the instant the bell rang. "I want to see if those dopey dwarves get eaten by trolls," said the kid with purple hair.
"You goofball, haven't you seen the movie?" snapped Arnold at him. "Of course they don't."
"Yeah, but that was the movie," replied purple hair. "The book is different."
And indeed it was. Although the story was often the same, the way it was presented was no longer the single image they had seen on movie screens. Now the scenes took on the fantastic proportions that the students' imaginations gave them, far exceeding anything that could be portrayed on film. Miss Fairbanks smiled in pleasure to see the creative awakening that was occurring in her students. They were discovering the incredible power of their own minds, and how imaginative those minds could be.
Miss Fairbanks had barely started reading at the start of second period (and her voice was already starting to get hoarse), when there was a rustle at the door. Turning, she was surprised to see Mr. Brek standing there. He looked much the same as before, with massive, bulging muscles and bags under his eyes from being up all night. If the classroom had not been quiet before he arrived, it would have instantly turned quiet now.
"Why, Mr. Brek, what a pleasant surprise," said Miss Fairbanks with a smile.
"Hello, oldest and dearest friend," said Mr. Brek with a return smile. "I'm sorry if I interrupted you." There was an awkward silence as he continued to stand there. Finally he cleared his throat in embarrassment and said, "Do you mind if I come in for awhile?" Miss Fairbanks realized in surprise that for some reason he was afraid of entering without being invited.
"Why of course not," said Miss Fairbanks. "Take a seat anywhere you'd like. We're just reading 'The Hobbit' by J.R.R. Tolkein. Have you read it before?"
Mr. Brek's eyes bulged at the question, since he hadn't opened a book in over ten years. "Uh ... no, I haven't," he said as he tip toed across the room, making the floor buckle with his weight. "But don't let that stop you. Just go on ahead as if I wasn't here." He sat down and smiled at her.
Taken aback, Miss Fairbanks said, "Well, I'm afraid we started yesterday, so we're already up to page 75."
"No problem," said Mr. Brek with a wave of his hand. "I've seen the movies. Just carry on as if I wasn't here."
Miss Fairbanks smiled uncertainly, not sure what to think. Why on earth was he here? Then with sudden realization she understood. It was almost payday, so he had come as a gentle reminder that she needed to do her duty and give him half her paycheck. She smiled. She'd known he would change his mind about not being paid!
Miss Fairbanks went back to reading. The students in her class, who had been rather impatient at the interruption, went back to the dreamy, intense looks they tended to have on their faces all the time she read. She continued steadily on in her skilled 'reading' voice, spinning the fascinating yarn of the visit by Bilbo Baggins and the dwarves to the Elf kingdom of Rivendale. Every once in a while Miss Fairbanks cast a furtive glance in the direction of Mr. Brek, and was both amused and pleased that he seemed to be as enraptured as her students.
When the bell finally rang for the end of class, there were the usual exclamations of disappointment (mingled with profanity) that the blissful hour was over. Amidst the shuffling of books, bags and desks, Mr. Brek came over to Miss Fairbanks. "That's quite a story!" he said appreciatively. "Didn't think the book would be that good. Sounded better than the movie to me."
"It does to a lot of people," replied Miss Fairbanks.
"I just wanted to make sure you remember our deal," said Mr. Brek, looking down at her. She smiled back up at him. She had been right!
"Of course I remember!" cried Miss Fairbanks. "Tomorrow is payday, and as soon as I can break away from school I'll cash my check and bring you what I owe you. But I usually stay after school for awhile, so it probably won't be until about 5:30 that I get there."
Mr. Brek was shaking his head negatively. "That's not the deal I was talking about," he said firmly. "What I mean is the deal where you're NOT going to come over and bring me any money. That's the way we left it, remember?"
Miss Fairbanks frowned and stepped back, clearly confused. "Now Mr. Brek, no welching!" she said firmly. "We made an agreement, and I intend to keep it! I will be there at 5:30 sharp and give you the money."
"Nope," said Mr. Brek, still shaking his head. "I won't take it," he said simply. "So there's no sense you bringing it to me."
"I will bring it anyway!" said Miss Fairbanks stubbornly.
"Then I'll burn it!" he said flippantly. Miss Fairbanks looked at him in shock. "Burn it!" she cried. "Burn money? Are you crazy?"
"Nope," said Mr. Brek, pulling out his wallet. "I've got money to spare. Here, I'll show you." He took out a five dollar bill and pulled a lighter out of his pocket. Then to Miss Fairbanks' horror and the great amusement of her third period class who were starting to filter in, he lit the money and held it by a corner while it burned itself out.
"Mr. Brek!" screeched Miss Fairbanks, in the loudest voice anyone had ever heard her use. "How can you DO such a thing?!"
"Easy," said Mr. Brek, pulling out his wallet again. This time he pulled out a twenty. But before he could light it, Miss Fairbanks grabbed the hand with the money in it and pushed it away from the flame. "PLEASE DON'T!" she cried. "You don't have money to burn!" She'd had so little money for so long that even the thought of burning money was more than her mind could bear.
"Well, actually, I do," said Mr. Brek. "I get lots of tips at the door of the bar, from people wanting me to watch their cars or other stuff. I'm loaded. I don't need your money. So DON'T bring it tomorrow, or I'll burn it, see?"
Miss Fairbanks was trembling, not knowing what to say. But meekly she just shook her head. This was not what she had expected at all.
"Good!" said Mr. Brek, sauntering back over to his chair by the wall and making the floor wobble under his feet once again. "If you don't mind, I think I'd like to hear that last part in the Hobbit one more time ..."
"But Mr. Brek, you still haven't been paid," said Miss Fairbanks, wringing her hands. Clearly the matter was not as settled for her as it was for him.
"Yes I have," he said casually. "I learned all about writing business letters. That was good enough pay. Fact is, before I came that day I hadn't written any letters in years. But I did this past week! Your classes put me in a letter writing mood."
Miss Fairbanks just stared at him, speechless. Suddenly the bell rang, and her class stared up at her expectantly. Poor Miss Fairbanks wrung her hands a few more times while continuing to look at Mr. Brek. He just smiled at her pleasantly. Finally, not knowing what else to do, she picked up The Hobbit with trembling hands and started to read. Her voice faltered at first, since his steady gaze was making her feel distinctly embarrassed. But after a time she became enraptured in the story (even though she'd read the same section twice already that day) and forgot about him. And once more her class (and Mr. Brek as well) entered into a wonderful world of fantasy.
Mr. Brek smiled at her as she continued to read. It had cost him five dollars, but he'd given her half her paycheck. It was clearly worth it, since it was obvious she needed the money far more than he did.
But he was sure glad she'd stopped him before he burned that twenty!
Jared the bully once more joined the 'loser's club' after school. In addition, there were three other new arrivals. One was none other than the girl known as Slapface, and as she entered the room every kid in the club reached up to rub his or her face, for some reason. Slapface was followed by the girl with tattoo ears, and a rough looking boy with deep black eyes named Farley Gruff.
"Tell them the rules," said Jared, as he eyed the new arrivals suspiciously. Miss Fairbanks looked at him in surprise, then smile
d. So did Melvin, Jerry and Heather. It was obvious Jared was one of them now, and could be trusted. And since he had the reputation of being one of the school's toughest kids, they found themselves in the unusual position of having a powerful new friend, in times of potential need.
"Welcome," said Miss Fairbanks to the new arrivals as they each took a seat. "Everyone can join us in what is mistakenly called the 'loser's club.' But there are a few rules you need to know, that will be strictly enforced ..." Miss Fairbanks quickly went through the rules, wondering if any of them would get up and leave like Armpit Arnold had done yesterday. None of them did.
In fact, Slapface surprised them all be grinning from ear to ear and saying, "Finally! A safe place to go where nobody's going to say stupid things to hurt everybody else. This school's needed this club for a long time."
Miss Fairbanks blinked, then suddenly Melvin bluntly said, "But I thought you were one of the school bullies!"
"Hardly," said Slapface with a grimace. "I only slap people who deserve it, because of the stupid things they say. Did I ever slap you?"
Melvin thought back. "No," he admitted with a smile. "You never have."
Jared was feeling his face tenderly. "You've sure belted me enough times," he commented dryly. "But no big deal. I probably deserved it."
Slapface smiled at him. "I'll do it some more if you want." It was obvious she enjoyed not only her reputation, but what caused it.
"No thanks," said Jared quickly.
"Have you been back to see Brent?" asked Heather, turning to Miss Fairbanks. Several in the room screwed up their faces, trying to remember who Brent was.
"The kid with the gun last Friday," said Melvin to spare them the effort.
"Yes, I've been there every evening," replied Miss Fairbanks. "He's doing quite well. In fact he insists he likes it there, and hopes they don't send him home anytime soon since his stepdad drinks so much." Several in the room nodded in understanding.
"Do you mind if I let Harry out?" asked Melvin unexpectedly.
"Harry?" asked Miss Fairbanks.
"He's my pet tarantula," said Melvin casually, reaching into his bag and pulling out a massive spider. There were instant screams from Ella, Slapface and the tattoo eared girl. And to the surprise of all, Jared leaped up on his desk in fright as well.
Miss Fairbanks took a step back, her hand over her heart. "My goodness!" she said. "Why on earth do you have him in your book bag?"
"My dad's threatening to kill him," said Melvin matter-of-factly. "I didn't want to come home and find him dead, like Brent came home and found his cat dead." He stroked Harry's back tenderly, and the huge spider responded by arching its back as if it was asking for more.
"He's a most unusual pet," said Miss Fairbanks, not sure what else to say. "But I don't know about letting him roam around in here ..."
"Oh, Harry won't hurt anyone," said Melvin, casually putting the big spider on the floor so it could get some exercise. "He's very mild mannered. Tarantula's look scary, but they're perfectly harmless you know. They're great pets. They help keep insects out of your room."
"I can imagine," said Miss Fairbanks, her hand still over her heart. She had never been overly fond of spiders.
"You're not supposed to handle them much, since they're quite delicate," said Melvin. "And he will bite, but only if he feels scared. So it's best to not make sudden moves around him that might scare him."
"If he comes around me, I'll make a sudden move!" said Slapface firmly. "But it'll be to get away from him!" The other girls nodded in agreement.
"He doesn't look scared of people to me," said Jared from where he was still standing on top of his desk.
"Harry's not usually scared of people," said Melvin. "Except people with tattoos, like my dad. For some reason, he's not fond of tattoos."
The tattoo-eared girl--whose name was Stacy--quickly clapped her hands over her ears.
"Isn't it risky to carry him around in your book bag, if he's so delicate?" asked Miss Fairbanks, retreating to the far side of her desk as Harry started coming her way.
"Yeah, it definitely is," agreed Melvin. "I've got his box in here of course and that helps. But it's like walking on eggshells in this school to keep other kids from bashing into my book bag. I wouldn't have brought him to school if my dad hadn't said last night he'd kill him next time he saw him." He looked up at Miss Fairbanks, his eyes pained. "Why are parents like that? Why do they do things to hurt their kids?"
"Well, I don't really know Melvin," replied Miss Fairbanks, still keeping a wary eye on Harry.
"They don't care about their kids, that's why," said Heather. "If they cared, they wouldn't do things to hurt them." Her face wore a bitter scowl, making Miss Fairbanks wonder vaguely what things her parents did to hurt her. But in truth, she was rather glad she didn't know.
"Scar face's mom cared about him though," said Jerry suddenly. "Some parents are like that. My mom's like that, but my dad isn't. They don't fight much because she just gives in to him on everything. He rules like a dictator."
"Doesn't anyone in this school have normal, loving parents?" asked Miss Fairbanks in dismay. "Every time I hear kids tell about their parents, it's always bad."
"That's the way it is for just about everyone here," said Stacy. She looked at Miss Fairbanks curiously. "What about your parents, Miss Fairbanks? Were they nice?"
The unexpected question brought dozens of unbidden images to her mind. Her face turned white and she staggered back toward her teacher's chair and sat down. While the class watched curiously she quickly tried to compose herself. She wished there was a way to be better prepared for unexpected questions like this. She was determined to NOT have another meltdown in front of club members.
"Actually I don't have any parents, Stacy," she said in a forced, casual tone. "I was raised in foster care. I have no family in the world."
"You're lucky," said Heather bitterly.
"I suppose some might see it that way," said Miss Fairbanks sadly. "Especially if their family is not very nice. But it can be very lonely to have no one." She ran a shaking hand through her hair. Then she smiled and quickly stood up. "I know family members hurt us sometimes, but our job is to try and forgive them no matter what they do."
"Forgive?" spat Heather viciously. "Why?"
"Because of YOU, that's why," responded Miss Fairbanks. "After all, if you hold a grudge against someone, who hurts the most from it? Them or you?"
Heather struggled for a minute with that one, while most in the room screwed up their faces trying to figure it out.
"Me, I suppose," said Heather in the end. "But that still doesn't mean they deserve to be forgiven."
"Who does?" cried Miss Fairbanks. "None of us is perfect. But we don't forgive them for their sakes. We do it for ourselves! It's wonderfully liberating to forgive someone who has hurt you! You don't have to carry the burden around anymore." She shook her head firmly. "Forgiveness is very selfish actually. We do it for ourselves, to make our lives less miserable and blame oriented. We forgive for the peace it brings US, not for anything it might bring the person we forgive. If anything, seeing us happy often just drives them crazy."
They all just stared at her dumbly, not entirely clear about what she was saying.
"But forgiving someone in your family that's hurt you a lot is hard!" said Heather, close to tears. "Is it even possible?"
Miss Fairbanks looked at Heather thoughtfully, her mind once more besieged by memories that jumped unbidden into her mind. "No, it's not easy," she said slowly. "In fact, that's the most difficult kind of forgiving of all. We have to keep forgiving them again and again. And I sometimes wonder even then if it's possible. But that's not the most difficult kind of forgiveness." She paused for a moment, while everyone looked at her curiously. "The most difficult kind of forgiveness, which is almost impossible really, is to forgive yourself ..."
"Hey, look where Harry's going!" said Melvin, blessedly changing the subject. With a start, Miss
Fairbanks realized she had temporarily forgotten about the big, hairy spider. She looked around wildly, then was relieved to see that he had merely climbed up inside one of the windows. There were actually two windows in each window well in school, an outer and an inner one. Harry had crawled up into the narrow space between the windows, through a break in the inner window that had been made through months of constant effort by frustrated students. He was now crawling happily back and forth eating up the dead bugs that had accumulated in the space.
"He likes it there!" cried Melvin, going over to see. Suddenly he looked up at Miss Fairbanks with shining eyes. "Would it be ok if he stayed here tonight? Then I won't have to take him home. I can even tell my dad I found another home for him, so maybe he'll lay off for awhile."
"Well ..." said Miss Fairbanks doubtfully. The thought of a massive spider looking at her from her window all day long made her spine tingle.
"You know, that's not a bad idea," commented Jared. "Lots of kids might be less likely to act up if they see him staring at them."
Melvin looked at Jared in sudden worry. "They won't hurt Harry will they?" he asked.
"I won't let them!" Miss Fairbanks suddenly found herself saying, to her own surprise. "After all, this is my classroom and I never leave it during the day. Even during lunch I stay here. So Harry will be perfectly safe."
Melvin's face broke into a huge, goofy smile. What Miss Fairbanks didn't mention was the question that kept coursing through her mind: Harry might be perfectly safe from others, but would she be perfectly safe from Harry?
Miss Lydia Fairbanks and the Losers Club Page 15