The sun shone brightly through thencovered bedroom window. Boxes were scattered across the floor, some taped closed. Others sat open, the contents peeking out. Erik stood in the center of the room holding a picture frame and lost in thought.
"Erik, are you done packing?" yelled Maureen, his mother.
No response.
"Erik, do you hear me. It's time to go," said Maureen, carrying a box of things out of the front door.
Erik didn't answer. He held the picture of Alicia at her last softball game.
March 9th. She pitched a perfect game that day, her first. Erik remembered the look on her face. Alicia was his younger sister by three minutes. They were identical, except for the fact that she was a girl. He wrapped up the picture and placed it in one of the boxes. It always surprised people that Alicia was the athlete instead of him, the one who won at all the sports; he was the bookworm. Never in a million years did he expect her to die before the age of fifteen.
But she did.
They buried Alicia a week after their fourteenth birthday, and Eric had never felt a deeper pain.
He packed up the rest of his things and taped up the few open boxes. Atlanta had been his home from birth, and now they were headed to North Carolina. He didn't know any one there, wouldn't like it, and didn't want to go.
The sound of his mother screaming his name from outside reminded him that he didn't have a choice in the matter.
An hour later, they were on the highway headed to North Carolina. It was midnight before they arrived at their new home. Their house looked like every other house on the block.
"Hurrah," he said to himself, lugging one of the boxes inside.
"I think we're going to like it here. Don't you, honey?"
"Yea mom," said an unexcited Erik.
He spent the next few hours in his new room trying to make it look like his old room. The walls were an ugly shade of blue. The closet was too small, and on top of all that, Alicia wasn't here to agree with him. He fell back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling for the first time.
Someone had painted the cosmos. Stars, planets, everything! Each planet was present in the most awesome work he'd ever seen. And there was Earth, his planet.
The lights in the Cosmos were soon extinguished, and Erik felt himself falling into the deep, dark, black hole called sleep. He woke up with his mom standing over him telling him to get up and get ready for school. The moment he dreaded.
After quickly showering and grabbing a breakfast bagel, he met his mom downstairs, and they were off. Maureen gabbed the whole way to the school about her new job, his new school, their new friends, and something about all of this being some big adventure. It didn't feel like a big adventure to him. More like a big mistake.
The school was only a few blocks away from the house, but it seemed like forever.
"Do you want me to come inside with you on your first day?"
"No! I mean no, Mom, I got it," said Erik. It was bad enough he was here. There was no way he would allow his mom to escort him into this new school like a first grader.
* * *
"Hello, Erik. My name is Mr. Tisdale."
Erik sat in the principal's office for a brief orientation on his first day at Reymont High. It was nothing like Ben Gordon in Atlanta, and as he walked the halls he had the most overwhelming feeling of dread at being here.
Mr. Tisdale stopped at one of the classrooms and tapped lightly on the glass. A tall brunet with a painted on smile and the most dreadful voice Erik had ever heard stepped out.
"Mrs. Biddall, how are you today," said Principal Tisdale.
"I'm extraordinary, Principal Tisdale."
"Good. This is a new student, Erik Price, and he'll be in your biology class."
"Wonderful. Are you transferring from another school in North Carolina?
"No Ma'am. Atlanta," said Erik.
"Atlanta? Marvelous, quite marvelous," said Mrs. Biddall.
Erik looked at the lady wondering why she was smiling at him so, so crazily. She had to have 87 teeth. He'd never seen so many teeth in a person's mouth in his life. So caught up in the sight, he didn't even hear Principal Tisdale speaking to him.
"Did you hear me, Erik?"
"Excuse me, no sir." said Erik glancing up at all those teeth staring back at him.
"I said Mrs. Biddall is one of our most dedicated teachers. She has a wealth of knowledge. You'll do well to listen to her. I'll be seeing you around, young man. Good day Mrs. Biddall."
"Good day to you too, Principal. Come on, Erik. I think you'll like the class."
When they walked inside every face in the room was focused on his.
"Just go and find a seat," said Mrs. Biddall.
The room was the typical science lab. Stools stationed around islands. He found a seat between two girls. One nodded shyly; the other looked at him and rolled her eyes. Erik took a deep breath and sat down.
"Here you go," said Mrs. Biddall, handing Erik a biology book. "We're on chapter 17.
As he opened the book to find the page, he could feel the eyes on his back. Today was going to be one very long day.
After making it through Mrs. Biddall's class, Erik traversed the cafeteria in an attempt to find an empty table. He eventually settled on one occupied by a group of girls and sat down at the farthest end.
He looked around between bites of spaghetti that actually tasted pretty good. None of the faces that stared back at him were familiar. He felt weird eating alone.
Afterwards, he walked around taking in the pecking order. Every school had a hierarchal system made up of students at the top that dominated those at the bottom. Such was the case of the group of popular, rich girls. Their popularity stemmed solely from money. They didn't even look at him, the person, but rather his clothing. The eighty dollar shoes, ten dollar shirt, and sixteen dollar pants gained him entry into the average group, but to this bunch, they only gained him a snicker.
A few feet away another group lingered, this one comprised of athletes. He knew they were basketball players not only because of their builds but also from hearing one of the guys brag to some of the girls how easy it was to hit the game winning shot.
Erik nodded at one of the guys, who completely ignored him, and continued moving, right into the lowest of the low. A small guy with braids was headed his way when out of nowhere an arm reached out and slung him to the wall. He squirmed, but it was no use. A broad shouldered black guy and three of his friends laughed at his attempts.
"What's up, Julian?" said the big guy who had him pinned to the wall.
"Uh, nothing, Tank," said Julian.
"What you got?"
"Nothing," said a fearful Julian.
Tank kept him pinned to the wall a few moments more before dropping him unceremoniously to the ground.
Bullies! In the hierarchal system bullies always terrorized kids they thought were weaker than them. Bullies were a group that Erik always despised. He'd had his fair share of run-ins with them. They always seemed to despise him equally.
As Erik walked past, Julian made the briefest eye contact with him before lowering his head.
Tank made some slick comment that his friends seemed to find hilarious. Erik walked past the four of them making no eye contact and keeping his head straight forward. He took note on how quickly their laughter ceased. He could feel them sizing him up. The new kid on the block always garnered attention.
He expected someone to say something, but no one spoke. They merely watched him walk through the double doors.
He was in search of the library and expected it to be much more than what he saw. It was half the size of the one he was used to. Four computers sat in the center of the room along with four small tables. Erik quickly took count of the amount of shelves and guessed that no more than two hundred books filled the room.
"Just my luck, to be stuck at a school like this," he said shaking his head sadly.
The bell rang signaling the end of the lunch period. He walked quickly from the library in a quest to find his last class for the day. It was located on the west end of the school, at the end of the hallway. Erik entered and quickly took a seat in the back. He had no intention of making himself known.
The teacher was a short, plump, middle aged, balding man with an English accent named Mr. Shumpert. After everyone was seated he stood and looked over the class.
A pencil fell.
Someone passed gas.
Yet Mr. Shumpert stood vigilant.
Weird!
"You, Ms. Easley, please come forth," said Mr. Shumpert.
Erik was surprised to see it was the same girl who spoke to him earlier that day in class. Well, she really didn't speak to him but rather nodded he thought to himself. She stood at the front of the class holding her hands shyly in front of her. Mr. Shumpert's eyes scanned the classroom and settled on Erik.
"Your name, Sir?" asked Mr. Shumpert.
"Erik, uh Erik Price," he said nervously.
"Come, Mr. Price, and join Ms. Easley please."
There was no longer any doubt in his mind that he hated this place. He walked slowly to the front of the class. A few snickers were heard, but he ignored them. They finally stood side by side facing the class. To Erik it looked like a thousand pairs of eyes were staring at him, and he instinctively began rubbing the back of his thumb with his index finger, something he always did when he was nervous.
Erik had no idea what was going on, and it was obvious that the girl standing next to him didn't either.
Mr. Shumpert walked around and stood in front of them, his gaze traveling back and forth between the two. Erik thought he looked at him a bit strange, but decided to ignore the way Mr. Shumpert eyed him.
"Ms. Easley I would like you to read first and you afterwards Mr. Price."
Erik looked at the paper in an attempt to orient himself with it.
"Ms. Easley, whenever you're ready," said Mr. Shumpert.
Erik looked over at her and noticed her shaking hands. She looked up at a thousand waiting eyes.
"Believing is a fine thing, but placing those beliefs into execution is a test of strength. Many are those who talk like the roar of the sea, but their lives are shallow and stagnant, like the rotting marshes. M... M... Many are those who lift their heads above the mountain tops, but their spirits remain dormant in the obscurity of the caverns."
"That was extraordinary, Ms. Easley. Thank you," said Mr. Shumpert. He nodded at Erik.
Taking a deep breath Erik focused on steadying his voice. "Learning is the only wealth tyrants cannot despoil. Only death can dim the lamp of knowledge that is within you. The true wealth of a nation lies not in its gold or silver but in its learning, wisdom, and in the uprightness of its sons."
"Excellent, Mr. Price, thank you. Both of you can be seated," said Mr. Shumpert, turning his attention to the class. "Your task for today is interpreting these two verses by the Lebanese poet and philosopher Khalil Gibran. Ladies, I would like you to give me your interpretation on the verse that Ms. Easley read. And gentlemen, I would like to hear your interpretation of the verse Mr. Price read. You can get a copy of them here," he said pointing to the corner of his desk where two stacks of paper sat. "And I expect them to be turned in by the time class is over."
