Fatherly Love

I hate Language Arts class. It’s really a waste of time for me at this point in my life. I understand the grammar and spelling of most words used in everyday language. I can read and analyze Bram Stoker’s Dracula or Shakespeare’s Hamlet without some middle-age, overweight, divorced woman facilitating the entire process. I really should’ve skipped a grade and begun high school early. Hell, I should be in the 11th grade by now, but here I am…surrounded by children…

“Henry…”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Do you know the answer?”

“I’m sorry what was the question?”

“You weren’t listening, were you?”

“I was…a little. Just ask and I bet I know the answer Ms. Simmons.”

“Why would Mina be so willing to grant Dracula peace despite the mayhem he had caused in London?”

“Eh…she and he were lovers in a past life or something, right?”

Mrs. Simmons sighs and walks over to Henry’s desk. She lifts up a piece of paper that he had been writing on. “What’s this?”, she asks.

“No offense, but you wouldn’t understand, Mrs. Simmons.”

“Try me...”

“It’s a concept for a new type of capacitor that I’m working on and a new type of transformer. See the number of coils in this metal? It’s different from the other coil. The induced magnetic field will create a current leading to electron flow and the charge will be stored in this capacitor. Problem is…I haven’t quite figured out what type of dielectric material to use yet…”

“Henry, I thought we discussed this in the last conference with your parents. In my class, you are to focus on literature and the language arts…NOT science and math. There’s a time and place for that.” Henry sighs and looks down at his desk. “Sorry…I didn’t mean any disrespect….”

“It’s okay, Henry. I appreciate your interest in science. I just wish you would use some of that energy to expand your knowledge of literature.”

“But this stuff is so boring….”

Daniel, a good buddy of Henry’s begins to clap until Mrs. Simmons gives him an evil stare as so many teachers have learned to do. “It’s only boring because you expect it to be, Henry. I’m sure there are parts of the book that you’d enjoy if you were to read it.”

“Ms. Simmons…I finished that book weeks ago. Took me 4 days.”

The rest of the students gasp in astonishment. One student yells out “NERD!”

“Enough class! Quiet down…” Ms. Simmons thinks for a few seconds. “Well, I guess I’ll have to give you something a bit more challenging from now on.”

“I guess.” Henry shrugs as he takes his paper back and continues drawing. “When are we ever going to need to understand the motivation of characters within a work of literature? When are we ever going to need to predict the outcome of characters in a work of fiction based on events within a story or determine whether or not a character is static of dynamic? I’m not going to be a writer. One day, I’m going to be a great engineer or maybe even a physicist.”

“Black people aren’t good engineers.” A voice called out. “You’d be better at maybe being a grease monkey.” It was Gregory. I always hated that asshole. He was at least twice my size but a poor student. We have a … history together you might say.

“My father used to be a mechanic Greg. There’s nothing wrong with it.” I replied.

“I rest my case…Black folks are meant to work in garages. That’s why so few of yall are scientists.”

“Firth off, my father isn’t Black and secondly….dude, you want me to fuck you up?”

“Ha…you and what army, turd?”

“That’s enough! Both of you!” Ms. Simmons yelled. “I should contact both of your parents and tell them about the language that you use in my classroom!”

“It’s the same language that you use…it’s called English.” Greg replied.

“Keep it up smarty pants and we’ll find out how high your grades are without my leniency during grading…or my curves.”

“For the record, I like your curves Ms. Simmons.” I replied “Pun intended …”

The entire class laughed except for Gregory who was wisely silent after her subtle threat.

“Flattery will get you nowhere little boy. If I hear about the two of you going at it after school I’ll see to it that you’re both suspended. I mean it!”

I roll my eyes and get back to my project. I think I can get this figured out within a day or so. The teacher walks away from my desk and shakes her head. “I’ll have something for you next class, Henry.”

“Sure…” I said.

I like Ms. Simmons in a way. She does want me to succeed but I just wish English wasn’t such a boring class. No doubt she’ll just give me more boring books to read next class. I really don’t like middle school. Most of my friends from elementary school went down south to Palm Springs West Middle. Here, I had to make new friends, which was hard because none of the kids in my neighborhood went to Miami River Middle School either. I can’t wait for high school. At least I’ll get to start over and maybe learn some real science in the classrooms. Maybe even the English books will be more interesting.

“Hey, Henry…wait up.” I continue to walk towards the school’s main exit knowing that Fred would catch up with me. “Sup, man?” We fist bump and he pulls out an X-Box disk. “I got it right here man. It’s part 2. Let’s go to your house this time and play.”

“Not today, man. I want to finish my schematic for the new capacitor.”

“Oh, common, dude…you know what I had to do to get this? I gave my entire lunch to Brandy Bruzon so she’d let me borrow the game for a week. I’m starving.”

As skinny as you are, I’m not surprised.” We both chuckle.

“Okay, man. Let me know when you’re down to come over and play. I’ll text ya later.”

“Sure…” And with that little Freddy disappeared into the crowed of smelly 11 to 15-year-olds scurrying to catch a bus, find a parent’s car, or cross the baseball field and head to the library. I used to stick around and play basketball but it got boring after a while. I think of the game as a pastime for morons these days. Any idiot can be good at basketball. So many students believe that a person must be able to dunk or dribble past an opponent with style in order to be good, but none of these are requisites. All you gotta do is be good at putting the ball through the hoop. It’s really an idiot’s game, which is why so many people enjoy it I suppose.

“Excuse me…”

I turn around to see a dark-haired female looking at me. She wore glasses and was carrying all of her books in her hands – no book bag. She must be new.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I’m trying to find the number 83 bus but none of the buses have that number on them. Where does it come in?”

“Oh, I don’t take the bus. I’m just passing through on my way to the library across the field. You should ask one of the bus drivers for directions.”

“Ah…” She smiles. “Sorry to bother.”

“No bother. Bye…”

“Um … so you walk home after leaving the library.”

“Eh…no my mother picks me up from there. Take care….” I turn to continue my solo walk…but she hurries next to me.

“You’re lucky…” She says. “Catching the bus is a pain. I wish I could hang out at the library.”

“Speaking of bus-catching, shouldn’t you be looking for yours?”

“Oh…right…yes.” She smiles again. “I’m Nicole.”

“Henry…” She reaches out her hand and I grab it for a quick shake.

“See ya, Nicole…”

“Bye, Henry…”

I remember being the new kid here last year. It always sucks because you know no body. Almost everyone is a potential friend. She seems kinda cute but a little fat for my tastes. Besides, I’ve got more important things to worry about than girls. Who the heck wants a girl at my age anyway? There’s no way I’m becoming a daddy.

I place my books on the counter as I enter the home and head to the cabinet for some cashews.

“Um…what are you doing, mister?” my mom looked at me with surprise as if I had just violated every house rule she had laid down last night.

“I’m getting a snack before dinner.”

“Ah …. No. I don’t think so, mister. Dinner will be ready in 1 hour... tops.”

“But I’m hungry now mom!”

“There will plenty of food to eat when it’s ready. I went and got groceries after picking you up for a reason. Now go outside and get the bags out of the car.”

I hesitate for a moment, which doesn’t sit too well with mom.

“Um…you have hearing problems, mister?”

“No, ma’am….”

“I bought the groceries and I’m cooking for you. The least you can do is get the food out…and take your bookbag off of the counter. The surfaces should be kept clean.”

“Sure…” I walk outside to the car and receive a text message from Freddy while outside.

Freddy: Hey man, u coming over ltr?

Henry: No. gotta wrk on stuff.

Freddy: Dude, this aint gonna be fun wout you. hate playing xbox alone.

Henry: I’ll be over tmrw promise. I dont think ma will let me come over 2nite anyway. She makin dinner. U should come here.

Freddy: Nah, bruh. Im gonna play all night. I got a porno too if u wanna watch.

Henry: You gross, Bruh.

Freddy: You gay or smthn, man? Lolz.

Henry: smh. Ttyl, dude.

Freddy: <3 peace

Freddy was the only friend from school that also lived in the same street as me. The other kids didn’t seem to want to hang out with me much. Was it because I was Black, mixed or whatever? I didn’t know. Freddy was White like them but was different. Maybe because he was a scrawny kid and also needed a friend…any friend. I wanted to play the video games with him but I need to finish this schematic so that I can convince my parents to buy the materials for me. I put the phone away and try my best to collect all of the groceries in both hands so that I don’t have to make 2 trips. Also, the mosquitos out are bad and I’ve already been bitten twice.

Once inside, I see my father waiting for me with a cross look on his face. I think I know what it’s about but I continue to put groceries away. Looks like mom got some pickles. Those are always good with cheese and ham on a sandwich. I pull out a plastic bag with four packages of sirloin steak from one of the bags.

“Looks like mom has a craving for meat tonight, huh?” I turn and smile at my father who doesn’t look happy right now.

I continue to pull out the food one by one. I reach in one bag and grab some flour, sugar, nutmeg, and a cylinder of sea salt. There’s another bag with 2 loaves of whole wheat bread, a jar of Peter Pan peanut butter, and Smuckers strawberry jam. I walk over to open the refrigerator and my father grabs a stool and sits down at the counter.

“Your English teacher called me again today, Henry…”

I say nothing but continue to put the food into the fridge. Is that milk expired? Why doesn’t she ever buy Lactaid milk? She knows that I’m lactose intolerant and I’m not a huge fan of almond milk unless it’s sweet vanilla almond milk.

“She said there was an incident in class today.”

“Nothing major.” I say as I pull out a bag of romaine lettuce hearts.

“She also said that you aren’t participating in class like you promised during the last conference that we had.”

“I participate…a little.”

My father gives me a dubious look.

“It’s just so boring, Dad. I don’t like the books that we read in there. It’s not improving me as a person. I’m not even learning.”

“Look at me, Henry.”

I turn to look at my father. He was about 5’10” with blue eyes and dark brown hair. Most people initially didn’t realize that he was my biological father because he was so much lighter than me and my mother.

“I know you’re a very smart boy, but you have GOT…to keep your grades up. The only way to do that is to do what your teacher says. She’s the boss in the classroom.”

“I have a C in the class.”

“And you find this acceptable?!” My father, now stood up and placed his hands on his hips.

“No…I suppose not, but I can still make an A for an overall grade. I already finished the readings for the quarter. She wants us to keep a stupid notebook for a notebook check every 2 weeks. That’s the only reason why my grade isn’t higher, dad. I’ve made As on every test and quiz. I made an A on the last essay about the character motivations in the book Great Expectations. Have you ever read that? It’s the stupidest book ever! I still made an A.”

“We discussed this, Henry. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do in life. Someone has to wash the dishes. Someone has to sweep and mop the floor. Someone has to change the oil in the car and mow the lawn. These things are not fun, but we must do them so that we can later do the things that we REALLY want to do.”

My mobile phone chirps like a little bird in my back pocket. It’s probably Freddy. I pull it out to respond but my father’s eyes widen in amazement and his jaw drops….

I quickly put the phone back into my pocket and smile. “Sorry, dad.”

“You had better get your ass in gear within the next month or I’m halting payment on that bad boy you call a phone, buddy.”

“I’m not worried. I’ll pass English.” I say.

“With an A, mister! Or no phone…no videogames with Freddy…and definitely no more allowance for weird experiments. We put you in Mr. Olafson’s class so that you could explore your creative scientific side but that does NOT mean that you get to slack off in your other courses.”

“My projects are not weird, dad. I’m advancing science.”

“Sure you are…you must pass English before you win your Nobel Price, Einstein. Also, you seem to think I’m easily distracted by your attempts to misdirect me…talking about your grades and how boring the class is. Tell me about what happened today…tell me everything, buddy…and close the fridge while you’re at it, you’re letting out all the cold air.”

I sigh and close the fridge then grab a stool. “Some douchebag named Gregory.”

“He bullying you?”

“Not physically. He just always gives me a hard time.”

“Is he bigger? What’s the problem?”

“He’s much larger but he’s never hit me or anything like that, dad. He just likes to make other people feel dumber than he is that’s all.”

“Your teacher said that you threatened to Fuck him up….is that true, mister?”

“Technically, I just asked him a question.”

“This is not…the time to be a smartass with me, Henry…”

“I asked him if he wanted me to F him up…”

“You talk like that in front of your teachers? What is wrong with you?!”

“Like I said…he’s a total douche…”

“What did he say to make you so upset at him?”

I hesitate for a moment. “He said that I was too stupid to be a real scientist someday.”

“And do you believe that?”

“…No, sir.”

“Do you think that your classmates believe that?”

“…I guess not…”

“Do you think even HE believes that?”

“No…they all know that I’m smart but…”

“But what? Henry…you don’t have to respond to everyone’s statements. People are going to say things about you throughout your life that you don’t agree with. That doesn’t mean that you threaten them.”

“I know…”

“Do you really?”

I shrug and begin to pat the kitchen counter with my hands to the beat of a song that I heard on the radio during the drive home. I think it was an old song called Billy Jean. First it was left hand then right hand….then I played the beat in my head again as if the counter were a piano. I could still hear the lyrics in my head…She’s just a girl that thinks that I am the one…but the kid is not my son…

“HENRY!”

“I’m right here, dad. You don’t have to shout, man.”

“Your mind wanders too much, son.”

“I heard everything you said. Honest.”

“I don’t want to hear about you using foul words in class again. If I do…no phone or Internet for a full week. Are we clear?”

I didn’t want to tell him about the comment Gregory made about Black people in particular not being good scientists. It would have shifted the conversation into a lecture on the significant or insignificance of race and sometimes dad just didn’t get it. It wasn’t his fault. He just couldn’t understand…him being White and all.

“I asked you a question. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

My father extended his hand. I hesitated for a moment but then reached out to grab it and he pulled me in closer for a quick hug. “Alright…dad, enough.”

“Haha. The day will come when you’re gonna miss the opportunity to hug your old man.”

“I know dad…I’m glad you’re here. I know a lot of kids have divorced parents.”

“Or deceased. I’m trying to teach you everything my father wasn’t there to teach me. I love you, boy.”

“I love you too, old man.”