Mom Says

From the second Mrs. Smith stormed into the classroom this morning she was on a rampage. She yelled at everyone to sit down. Not like anyone was really making a big noise or anything. There were a few kids in the corner comparing Pokemon cards, but that’s about it. Everyone else was already at their seats. She quickly was started calling the role.

“Samantha Alderberry”

“Here.”

“Tammy brown”

“Here”

“Mike Jones…Mike Jones. Where is he?!”

“Mrs. Smith he’s not here today. I think he’s sick.”

It went on like that. Anyone paused and she yelled at him or her to pay attention. She mumbled a little when someone wasn’t there.  

Then she started on the one on one time to go over homework. Poor Samantha got the brunt of Miss Smith’s anger. She didn’t have her cursive completed and misunderstood the math homework. Miss Smith had Samantha write all the word problems from the math homework on the chalkboard in cursive that is after yelling at her for being lazy and stupid. Mom always says that stupid was a bad word and you should never ever under any circumstances call someone stupid. Even if they are stupid, it’s not nice to call some on that. They would be really sad if someone called them stupid. Or they would be mad and then probably turn into a bully. Mom thinks most bullies are just kids who were treated mean and turn their sadness into madness. She’s probably right. Maybe someone called Miss Smith stupid. Maybe someone bullied her this morning and this is the only way she knows how to deal with it.

“Zammy, your next!”

You know that feeling when your hearts sinks to the pit of your stomach and your feet fill stuck in pavement. That was happening right now. There was a tiny voice inside saying to run. Miss Smith glared over the rims of her glasses. She had big black circles under her eyes. She flipped through my homework packet as if it did something to her. Every page that she put a check-plus on seemed to make her really mad. She actually went through the packet twice. Maybe she was looking for something wrong. She handed the homework back her sleeve shifted to reveal a big ugly dark blue bruise on her arm. I asked her what happened but she just pulled her sleeve down fast.

“Mom always says to put ice on a bruise. It’ll help to make it feel better and going away faster, that’s what mom always says.”

 Miss Smith just sat there holding her arm and then a teardrop fell from her eye. She must be really hurt. No wonder she’s so cranky. When mom is sick or hurt she stays in bed all day and barks at everyone like a dog. Miss Smith just sat there starring down at her arm. I never really liked Miss Smith. She was boring and really strict. Mom says I need a strict teacher. Every time I switch schools, she tells the principal that I need a strict teacher. Mrs. Smith is by far the strictest teacher I have ever had. And boring too. No one really likes Mrs. Smith because she’s so strict. She never lets us have any fun; she makes us run in gym class even when our legs hurt. I twisted my ankle in gym class once and she just made me keep running. Mom said I should’ve asked to go to the nurse but I was too scared to ask. I’m a little scared right now too. Mrs. Smith hasn’t dismissed me to go back to my seat. She’s just sitting there still starring at her arm. What do I do? She looks really sad, her eyes are all red.

“Mrs. Smith, can I go back to my seat?”

She raised her head slowly and looked at me as if I were a five-armed alien. I really don’t like Mrs. Smith. She’s mean. Mom says I should be nice to her and not give her a hard time. She does have a lot of kids in the class. There’s Andrew who is always getting sent to the principal for hitting and Seth who asks a million questions. Then there’s me who has to keep being moved because I can’t stop talking. It is really hard not to talk when people are talking to you. Mom would probably tell me to be nice to Mrs. Smith right now.

“Mrs. Smith, are you okay?”

Mrs. Smith reached for the phone called the office and asked to have a sub sent in. When the sub arrived, she said she was going to go home and would be back tomorrow. She warned everyone to be on their best behaviors. She looked so sad when she was closing the door, she was shaking and she was definitely crying. I ran to the door after Mrs. Smith. Mom always knows how to stop someone from crying. She’s so good at comforting people when they are sad. She just takes their hand, walks with them, and talks about the weather, or a funny show that was on, or what ever pops into her head. The sub is yelling at me from the classroom but I ignore her. Mrs. Smith’s hand is all clammy and gross. Mom always knows what to say. How does she always know what to say? In the middle of the courtyard, Mrs. Smith stops walking and looks up at the sky. There is a huge hawk soaring by. It looks like it has a small animal in its claws. She looks down at the ground and tells me to go back to the classroom. The skin around her left eye has a weird yellow tint to it. I listen to her and start walking back to class dragging my feet. There’s that feeling again, that lump, like something is really wrong. I run back to Mrs. Smith and look her right in the eyes like mom does to me when she thinks I’m lying.

“If someone hurt you they should have to be punished. Just like in school. If someone hits someone, you send them to the principals office. Just like Andrew. Mom says he has anger issues. It should be the same for grownups. They should get in trouble. My daddy tracks down bad guys for a living. He could help you.”

I didn’t listen to Mrs. Smith. Mom always says that if someone hurts a friend or me I should tell an adult right away. I ran ahead of her to the office and told the lady at the desk that someone hurt Mrs. Smith. When Mrs. Smith heard me, she looked mad and relieved at the same time.  The lady told me to go back to my classroom. The next day there was a letter sent home explaining that Mrs. Smith would be taking some time off from teaching. There was no reason stated in the letter, but that evening it was splashed all over the local news. There was a picture of Trevis Smith, mom called it a mug shot.

“Well, I guess she sure showed him.”

“Huh?”

“Look at his face, Zammy. Didn’t think Mrs. Smith had it in her.”

 Mr. Smith has a big gash on the side of his head and a big fat lip. Turns out Mr. Smith had an anger problem just like Andrew. Only he was taking it out on Mrs. Smith. A couple years ago, they had a kid and then he started taking out the anger on the kid. When he started hitting the kid, Mrs. Smith had enough and took a rolling pin to his head. Mom says violence is never the way to go. She says that you should stop being friends with someone if they being mean to you.  I think Mrs. Smith needs a mom like mine.

Reviews

[Rain]

A interesting story.
It was cool, how the kid refferred to his Mum. Kinda reminds us that mums are usually right...
Just a correction here:
"She quickly started calling the role."

I like the part about the teacher and her abusive husband, I didn't expect it.
Anywais, a interesting and nice read. Good job

[BeanHead:)]

.....at first i thought that this was a boring old story that had absolutely no depth at all because it was about being at school and stuff. but you proved me wrong. it had so many morals and meanings that i lost count. the mom thing would seriously make a great, sophisticated picture book.yeah and also the mistake. which rain has kindly corrected. the bold and brave child zammy is sincerely very dear and also very intelligent. excellent story!