Civic Virtue

A teacher takes on the worst class in the worst school you've ever visited.

First day of school is always a cluttered mess.  I’d accepted this special assignment on a dare.  I could hear them tearing up in my classroom as I walked towards it down the hall. Always pick on the person sitting innocently by the worst offender, I reminded myself on entering.  

I ducked a flying book, moved around a tipped over chair and leaned into the ear of Jesus Amados.  “I bet I can make you move your feet off the chair they’re planted on in about six seconds without even asking you to.”  

The surprised look on his face caught the attention of his busy lieutenants who paused to see what was going on. “Don’t let me interrupt you, but we’ve got company.”  

All eyes turned to the door, expecting perhaps the town’s swat team. The worst county wide male student offenders began cheering, stomping feet and whistling wildly as the worst county wide female student offenders joined us.

I watched in amusement as one saucy babe stood in front of Jesus pointing at his feet. With a look of utter astonishment, he bowed from his waist towards me, stood up and offered her his seat.

“First rule of combat, people, know your enemy.”  Jesus looked interested.  If I had him, I had the class. He motioned for everyone to sit.  They did, waiting to see what would happen next.

“The enemy in this case, people, is the administration.”  Applause, stopped short by Jesus.

“The second rule of combat is to use the enemy’s own strength against them. In this case, They love cost cutting.  I wanted all the worst offenders in one classroom. Here you are.”

It went beyond Jesus’ understanding.  “You mean, the babes are in class with us?”

I nodded.  “You are a genie granting wishes from a bottle, teach. Let me rub you for the other two.”  His ‘babe’ smacked the gum against her teeth and jabbed him in the ribs hard enough to make him catch his breath.  “Teach ain’t for rubbing, Jesus. I made a deal wit her. She let us come in to keep an eye on you guys and she don’t get hassled unless she dis you or us.”

Jesus’ astonishment had only been understated before compared with now.  “You do this without checking in with me?”  A rapid flow of Spanish followed.  They were nose to nose, turning in a slow circle. It was ready to get physical.

I took out my revolver and pointed it at the ceiling.  I pulled the trigger. The sound of the blank made some dive for the floor. “The third rule of combat is to choose which battles are worth fighting.  She didn’t think you’d mind, Jesus.  The law had the goods on you. You were going to prison. Today. They’re waiting outside for you to decide if you want to stay. You see she really did leave it up to you.”

He shrunk under her stare down, “I ain’t afraid.”

“She say she can make you bigger man than you ever wanted to be. You your own worst enemy but no man can save you but yourself. You listening?” Julia grabbed him by his ear, leaned in and licked it. “I done know why I love you.  Make a believer outa me.”

“This a game I don’t understand what teach be doing.  I’ll stay to find out.”

The group of administrators and police had been warned about me using a gun.  I’d promised it would be a one time thing as part of a class demonstration on violence. “Jesus.  Take this to the man outside the door.  I won’t be needing it now.”

“What?”  Then he laughed, taking my revolver.  “They not going to fill me full of holes while I attack them?”

I hadn’t seen so much focused attention in any classroom since I’d started teaching. Jesus walked dramatically to the closed doors.  Shadows waved back through the frosted glass window.  He tapped gently with the gun butt, handing the weapon to waiting hands.

“You forgot something.”  The hands paused.  Jesus dove into his jeans for his own weapons of mass destruction, knives, derringer, automatic, brass knuckles, all went to the hands. “I’m clean.”

He snapped his fingers behind him and motioned. “We don’t lie.  I say I do it, it mean we do it. You with me or not?”  It looked like a gun show before they were through.  Their women contributed their own fair share.

“Only in this classroom. Anywhere else we protect ourselves. Scout. Take the window. Teach. You our hostage if anything go toward.”

I waited for everyone to be seated and the folks behind the classroom door to go.  

“Today’s lesson is on civic virtue.”  I began. From the students,

There was nothing left, but silence alone.  The one called scout motioned to me and to Jesus.  “Cribs rising out of the ground, man. So much for police protection.”  I motioned for Jesus to follow me to the window.  The rival gang strutted their colors towards the school door invading our privacy.  We were supposed to be noman’s land.  Jesus stood a little straighter.  “You got a plan, teach?”

His woman came to stand beside him. “They got guns.  They got the cops to leave what protected us.  It going to be a bloodbath.  Look. They ain’t even waiting. Opportunity knocks.”

“Come on, Jesus.  Just you, me and your girl.”  

“No. way.  We into this strong. Make a statement signed in our blood, if nothing else.”  Jesus nodded at the speaker.  There was a surge behind us as we stepped out the door. I heard locks snick shut in doors we passed. Other teachers and the administration were doing the smart thing.

The long walk down the hallway took forever.  Semi automatic gun fire erupted into the air to greet us as we stepped outside. Guns pointed point blank at our chests.  I couldn’t believe how brave my students were, facing death so calmly.  Not one stood back. We just kept walking toward our doom.

“That all of them?”  A voice called out.

“On the count. When I say.”  

“Gotta start somewhere.”  Jesus jutted out his chin, barred his chest,  shouted “I need a little iron in my diet.”

A news helicopter appeared above us.  The sound chopping the air leant a surreal feel to the moment.  “You may want to look behind you.”  I was nose to nose with the dude with the raised hand, ready to seal our fate.

“What? You learn that from a movie?”

I chuckled as Jesus saw the go down and broke into laughter.  “Behind you. It’s a face off.”  

The small local gang I’d bargained with for backup held the weapons from Jesus’ group. They were placed in the right spots for the most firepower.

“We come to escort you home, dude. Ain’t she something, planning this?  Cop snitches knew nothing.  Weapons were left right where she said for us to pick up. She did all this. You in, I take it?”  

“Throw down your hurt, bro.”  Jesus pointed at his feet.  

“What? And we die here instead of you?”

“You know my word is good.  Do the throw down. My promise. You go free as you came. If.  Guard us when we ask until school ends in spring. Got it? No more play for power on our turf.”

Slowly, weapons were reverently placed on the ground. “How do we guard without these, home boy? How do we guard ourselves?”

I gave my back to the two leaders.  They were bristling at each other like porcupines. “Class isn’t over.  You heard of the Magna Carta? No? We’re about to make our own.  I’ll explain when we get inside.”

Author's Note

Let me know which of your stories you'd like reviewed.

Reviews

[Jessica Jaufmann]

This reminds me of the movie "Take the Lead" because of all the latino students. But instead of dancing to gain respect the narrator uses guns, I love it. I really like that you created this character and gave them a gun. A gun is a great tool to develop your character and you can do so much with it. While reading, I kept waiting for a point in the story where a conflict arises, but this seems like the lead up to one, I'd love to read a second part.
I think this piece could benefit from a small back story. Or perhaps that's what a second part could accomplish.
Great job and please feel free to take a look at my story "The Party"
Thanks!

[bobric]

Great review. Motivated me to build the conflict near the end.