Delinquent by Donald Mangum
So I’m sitting on the garbage can behind the cafeteria when the bell rings to start school. Only it’s not my fault. See, the watch I “borrowed” from Brandon Worley’s book bag must be wrong. I toss my gum in the can along with Worley’s worthless watch, and head for class. OH BOY HOW EXCITING.
So the first thing Mrs. Webster says when I walk in the door is, “Henry, you have a note for yesterday?” I hand it to her and don’t even make it back to my seat before she goes and reads the thing aloud. “Henry was sick yesterday because he had to help me pick beans.” “Signed his dad”
Now I know good and well she knows I wrote it. It’s just a matter now of if she’s going to make me lie and say my dad’s writing hand was broke or something.
So I’m in my desk, pulling books and crap out of a grocery bag when Mrs. Webster says, “Class, we’re going to begin show and tell”…which has NEVER been my favorite assignment. I mean what am I going to do, bring in an empty bottle and say, “this is how come I couldn’t do my homework, because my old man got pickled drunk and spent the whole night rearranging the house to look like a test range.”
No, maybe I’ll bring in a picture of my mother. And tell everybody how she isn’t around anymore because my father wouldn’t believe the doctor when he told him that part of her breast was going to have to come off if she was going to live.”
Well this time I’m ready. See, one thing have way decent we had in the house was the Korean — which my father would kill me for if he ever knew I had so much as breathed on. Only problem was he left early this morning with a truckload of beans and probably won’t be back until…I don’t know, maybe tomorrow.
Now, I remember that we always have show and tell Fridays so after scrounging around the closet; I placed the Korean in a shoe box and brought it along to show the class.
“I have something this morning, this, Miss Webster,” I say real loud and start to go up front. Only Mrs. Webster stops me.
“That’s good to hear, but you remember we go in alphabetical order, and I believe Michael Baxter has something to show us this morning – Michael.”
So fat old Michael Dumb Bunny Baxter goes waddling up to the front of the class. Kid’s got hearing aids in both ears and when he talks it’s like trying to understand a Frenchmen or something, that’s only been speaking English for about three minutes.
One time, I took both hearing aids out of his ears and told him it was going to take him 50 cents to get them back. Only problem was, he couldn’t hear what I was saying and that’s pretty much the problem of the whole class now.
He’s holding up a jar of liquid with something floating in it and he goes something like, “This here is my penis. I had it removed in 4th grade.”
Frank Neidemeyer gives me a look like, “the hell happened to him?” And some of the kids start to laugh.
“Class, class let’s be sure we understand. What Michael has here is his appendix. Everyone’s born with one. Sometimes they give us problems and they have to be removed in an operation. Thank you Michael for showing us yours.”
This is great, I think. Sort of a warm up for the main attraction. Here’s sorry old Dumb Bunny Baxter with his puny little piece of meat that’s probably not even important. Still, it gets everyone thinking about body parts and here comes Henry Calhoun.
“Henry, you have something for us this morning?”
“Yes m’am.” I say real smooth. Like, okay now that we’re done messing around with the thing in the jar, it’s time for the real show. I bring the box to the front of the room and place it on Mrs. Webster’s desk. I lift the skull out real slow.
“This here is a human head.” I watch Michael Baxter turn pale. “My uncles brought it back from the Korean War as a souvenir. See, this hole in the side of its head…well it was made by a UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BULLET YEE HAW!!!! AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL GOD SHED HIS GRACE ON THEE!!!!!!!”
Mary Beth Winslow’s breakfast comes up so fast, and some of the kid’s start to cry
“HENRY! Get back to your seat this instant,” says Mrs. Webster.
I notice she’s a little whiter herself. So that’s it – I don’t get to answer questions or anything. Ten seconds in what I thought was something I was doing right for a change. Something, I thought would make up for all the times I’d screwed up everything else and it’s like I might as well of brought nothing.
I go back to my seat and shove the Korean underneath and put my head down on my desk. My dad’s right I think, about me being stupid and worthless and no matter how much he beats me, I’ll always be a freak.
Now I’m afraid I’m going to cry unless I think of something else, so I start working on a spit ball. Along with spit I shove a little tobacco in from my pocket. I snap my fingers and point at the jar of paste in Howard Dunlap’s desk. In it goes along with a bite of my Hostess Twinkie from lunch.
I pick out Dumb Bunny Baxter as my target and I stand up to get a good shot. Only Mrs. Webster turns around mid-throw. Now I try to stop it but the whole thing flies apart and flies all over everybody.
Mrs. Webster just stands there looking at me and I know I’ve had it. That I’ll probably go to jail or something. That is, if my father doesn’t kill me for the Korean, which I guess he’s bound to find put about now.
Anyway, I lose it. I throw my notebook on the floor and kick it across the room. I kick my desk and everything starts spilling out of it. Mrs. Webster tells everybody to get out in the hall and for somebody to go get the principal.
So I’m still throwing stuff and screaming…just like my dad… when it’s just me and Mrs. Webster in the room. I see the Korean between us and I go for it. I don’t know whether to throw it at her or at the wall…at her or at the wall and she starts walking towards me. Now, I rear back like I’m going to smash her in the face, only she keeps coming.
And when she’s close enough, she whispers something.
She goes, “Poor baby.”
And here’s the thing, SHE’s the one crying. Just a little bit. Just a single tear.
