Stones to Abbigale

Chapter 18

I couldn't miss any more days of school as Lakewood High had little tolerance for repeat absences. Had I not returned to school shortly after, they would invalidate the work I had already done that semester.

I had pretty much the same classes all year, Washington State history 1 and 2 covered my first and second semesters. My TA position was extended for the second semester. Mean- while gym class had yet to see Mr. Mack return as far as I knew, but I hadn't been to school in a few days.

As I walked into school, it felt like nothing had changed, like no one knew Davis had even existed in the first place. Had they not lost over 40 people the year prior in the shooting, I would have been angered, but tragedy was becoming the theme of our school, and my own life. You could say we were all stronger because of it, but strength and numbness are two different things. When you can't feel anything because you've been beaten to a point where your senses stop functioning, you don't really have to be strong to endure it. To many people who remain in a state of numbness, every new blow is nearly indistinguish- able from the strikes prior. Call it some twisted way to force us into surviving despite the conditions being unacceptable in most every way.

When my TA period began Ms. Robertson paid me a visit. She walked over to me grading papers and asked, "How have you liked working with Mr. Hanson?" I replied saying "I like it just fine." She looked over to Mr. Hanson and said "Would you like to tell him now?" Mr. Hanson smiled and walked to the front of his desk, he leaned against it, but his weight caused it to slide backwards. Quickly he stumbled to stand and blurted out "Yes! Abso- lutely! James, we were thinking of you taking on a special role next year." I looked at him, lacking any feeling or sign of enthusiasm, but he continued, "We wanted you to run for school president, and this whole TA business was just about figuring out if you're the right person for the position." I sat and stared at them as if they were playing a sick game with me, but they didn't know I had just a lost a friend, they only knew what I was willing to tell them, which was pretty much nothing.

"You really just messed with my schedule so I could run for a position that you didn't even know if I wanted?" I asked in a monotone voice. Ms. Robertson replied, "I know we've had our bumps, but judging by Mr. Hanson's positive feedback, you have the strength and sense of integrity we would look for in someone who was running for the school Presi- dent." I replied, "So assaulting four jocks in front of the school, that was integrity?" Ms. Robertson's posture completely changed, she was clearly offended and replied, "You heard what that boy said to me! Obviously! He... and his friends! They..." I could see she knew she was about to say something that no guidance counselor could justify saying.

Mr. Hanson continued, "We believe in your decision making skills and, unlike other schools, the school President here has actual power. They have repeatedly in the past be- come a complete pain to deal with, we think you're different, and think you could actually do something good for the entire school instead of just causing a headache for the fac- ulty." I replied, "There's no guarantee I'll be successful, you could have put all this faith in me for nothing." Ms. Robertson jumped and said loudly "We're not going to let the stu- dents have another election where they have only an idiot and moron to choose between. You will win because the people who are right for the job rarely want it. James, you're ex- actly the person who needs to do this." I looked down at my desk silently.

Mr. Hanson said, "You're a good kid, one of the best I think. I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true." Ms. Robertson proceeded to leave the room. I just felt surprised she was even will- ing to talk to me after I lectured her about her failures as a guidance counselor.

It felt like hours, but finally my TA class was over, and I headed over to gym class where I saw someone I didn't quite recognize standing in the middle of the gym. As I walked closer, I realized it was Mr. Mack, only with a massive scar on the side of his face that lead past his hairline.