Public School

The bag was packed to capacity.

He and and his mother had earlier that morning marveled at the length of the schools book list, and wondered how on earth they would pack all those books into one bag, much less for him, a boy of thirteen, to carry it. Every weakness of the bag was put to the test. The stitching spread full out.


The room was the color of hospital, while chairs and desks, only just big enough to contain a young child, are railed together on adjoining metal poles that run the length of the ground. Students were just beginning to settle down in the room, having come in from another class.

He figured that if he entered the room at that time, he probably would blend in. He heaved his bag off his back and placed it on the ground beside the nearest available seat and sat heavily.


The other children in the room stared strangely at him. Ms. Beadle, a generous looking woman with warm smiles motioned silently to him. He placed his bag on the chair and walked the aisle between the joined rows of uncomfortable metal chairs and tables to the front of the room. Ms. Beadle stood and asked everyone to be silent.
“This is our new student Archibald Thomas who will be joining us today. I will allow him to introduce himself.”
He began, “My name, you already know. This is my first day at a school like this. I was privately tutored at home; It’s called homeschooling. Thomas’ Homeschool” He stood nervously thinking what else to say.
The teacher motioned him to return to his seat. As he walked back to his seat with his head down, though the room was silent, he could almost feel the other children’s’ thoughts as they hurled around the room.
He wasn’t as cool as them. He was sure of it. His pants were pulled up to cover his navel. He didn’t want them there, but his father believed that a man’s pants should cover his navel. Archibald’s navel was considerably higher than his fathers, and his new khakis were stretched taut between his crotch and his waist with obvious lines.
Ms. Beadle continued, “Archibald, will be with us for the remainder of the school year, and i would like each of us to treat him kindly. Today we won’t be doing any heavy schoolwork. Instead, I want to make sure that all of us are on the same page heading into the next section of the syllabus. I have prepared a quiz. Now for those of you who read on the holidays, it should be very easy; but for those of us such as ehem... THOSE WHO SHALL REMAIN UNNAMED, it will be interesting to see how well you do” she said, throwing her glance toward the back of the room to a tight group of boys who seemed occupied with something through the classroom window.
The boys didn’t hear the teacher or see her looking malevolently at them. She grabbed the duster and hurled it across the room. It hit one of the boys squarely in the chest, ricocheted and jolted yet another in the back of the head before falling to the ground. They all turned quickly, looking vaguely at the chalky dust mark on the chest of their ringleader; a young man named Eugene.
Though this was an eighth grade class, Eugene was growing hair from what seemed to be every pore in his body. He had a thick moustache and a beard which was “lined up” and worn neatly. He already looked like a man, and by his bulky appearance it seemed he had the muscles to prove it.
Archibald Thomas sat next to him. The duster had barely missed his nose on its way to his chest.
The teacher began to hand out the quiz.
“All papers and books off your desks please!” She spoke from the back of her throat.
This time everyone heard her. “You have a half hour in which to complete this test. Everyone except Archibald is expected to get a passing grade on this test. For those of you who don’t, you will be receiving a week worth of detention beginning next week Monday”.
Archibald was accustomed to pressure. He turned to the young man next to him; Eugene and said softly “Yo how much is the pass mark”.
Eugene looked at him oddly and said nothing. One of the boys sitting near to him, said in a serious tone; “60%”
Archie blinked blankly. He wasn’t sure if he had heard what had just been said. He asked again; “How much?”
“60%?” Archie repeated slowly with a quizzical look on his face.
Archibald could not help himself. He realized his shoulders were shaking, by the time he had begun to notice himself, his entire body was rocking uncontrollable and a shrieking laugh escaped his mouth and pierced the room.
Ms. Beadle looked up from handing out her papers and turned to the back of the room. “Mr. Thomas? Have you begun to give us trouble already?” she glowered.
“No Miss”, he smiled glowingly. She turned and continued to hand out papers.
At home, Archie had been accustomed to a 90% pass mark. 60% would have been punishable by the belt, by confiscation of anything he was interested in other than school work and with extenuated school hours, until he would have been back up to scratch with his siblings. He smiled.
It seemed school was going to be fun after all he thought.
By this time the teacher was three students in front of him handing out papers. In a few moments she would have been at his desk. She stopped knowingly and began to sniff the air. She glanced toward the back of the room and began to walk slowly toward the group of boys.
She told each of them to stand and walk to the front of the classroom with all their belongings. Archie was completely puzzled. He stood in line as the teacher continued to hand out test papers. When she was finished she walked to the extreme right of the six boys she had chosen and told them all to turn out their pockets. He did so; the other boys had only brought a few folder leaves to school with them as it was their first day back from the holiday and they didn’t expect more need for a bag than to have had tools to write down their timetables for the upcoming semester.
Ms. Beadle continued down the line asking each of the boys to turn out their pockets. When she got to Archibald, the teacher didn’t move, even when there proved to be nothing in his pockets.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. When her eyes opened, she told Archibald to open his bag for her to look through it. As he heaved the cumbersome bag onto the teachers’ desk, a wave of laughter broke frothy through the room as the other children jeered him. He seemed the complete nerd.
Archibald opened the large compartment of the bag which was obviously overloaded with books. The only thing he thought about was how hard it would be to lock the bag after this inquisition. Now the only place thing left to open was the little pocket on the front of the bag where his mother had tucked his pencils pens, erasers, ruler, calculator and other stationary.
He quickly pulled the zipper open and the teacher almost instantly pushed her nose toward the opening. “There!” she said. “Empty it!”
He reached in and began to place the groups of objects on the table, one handful at a time. As he went in the first time, he felt some unfamiliar crumbs at the bottom of the bag. As he placed a bundle of pencils, a sharpener and geometry set on the table, something rolled out amongst them onto the teachers’ desk that he had never seen before.
It was white, somewhat cylindrical, but smaller on one end than on the other. At the larger end, it looked as it if had been burnt, and Archie presumed that the crumbs from the burnt end were what was in his bag. He fumbled in the pocket nervously and felt more of the strange substance. He smelled a strong odour pouring from the bag and put his fingers to his nose.
The class broke into uproar. With one glance from the teacher, they became immediately silent.
“So this is how you choose to start off on the first day of school!” She stared into his eyes.
Archie was now even more nervous than he had been earlier; he mumbled, “No Miss, it’s not mine miss”
She said; I think i should call the police! Archie’s heart was in his throat. His mouth was dry. He did not understand what was going on.
Archibald began to hear an unfamiliar voice in his mind: “The last time i was in court the judge said the next time he sees me, he won’t allow me to pay a fine! There is no way i am going to court again!”
Archie felt cold. She gripped him by the collar and said, “As a matter of fact, I am going to get another opinion on this matter. She began to drag him through the door of the classroom, and as she did so, the class erupted into a fearful noise. She stopped and peered back into the room. Everyone was instantly quiet.
She dragged Archie across the corridor toward another classroom. It was also filled with children who were sitting neatly paying attention to a class member who stood speaking to them. There was no teacher in this room. There didn’t seem to be any children like Eugene or his crew in this room. Archie said weakly; “Miss cant you ask someone in our class”
The teacher paid no attention to him and standing at the back of their classroom said; “Excuse me class!
The entire class instantly rose in unison to their feet and replied; “Good Morning Ms. Beadle”
She continued: “I found this young man smoking ganja. Should i call the police?”
Archiebalds feet froze to the floor. He had never seen ganja in his life. Now he presumed that the white thing which had rolled out of his bag was a “spliff” as he had heard his father’s construction workers talking about while they renovated their house. They had not been allowed to smoke on the compound.
In unanimity, the entire room of students without even thinking twice replied; Yes Miss!
Archie struggled to breath properly, the knuckles of her pale hands pressed now firmly into his throat. He found very rude thoughts galloping through his head toward his mouth. “Why are you asking these fools! They don’t know anything about ganja except the fact that teachers and parents have told them that its bad and that idlers use it. Like what the ...”
Archie began to twist free from Ms. Beadles iron grip, taking deep gasps of air. As he shook, he opened his eyes.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in bed. Rain fell lightly outside. He glanced rapidly around the room for Ms. Beadle, Eugene or any sign of police. He saw no one. He jumped up quickly and went to the kitchen. After having a glass of water, his fears subsided, and he began to shake yet again. As he heard himself laugh, he felt reassured it was only a dream. He opened his laptop and searched for an episode of “True Blood” and watched himself to sleep.