Fifteen minutes earlier when master had returned to the classroom red-faced just after having been outwitted by Jack, Whittemore decided on a plan of attack to once and for all catch me and Jack red-handed in the act of sabotaging his class and what he believed was his fine lesson.
"Yes sir, Mr. Brooks, I am going to give you a special task. I'm starting to see that you have the potential to be a model student in our illustrious class of learners."
The students kept looking toward the windows anticipating, no doubt, Jack's imminent attack.
"Don't pay any attention to what is outside the schoolhouse, boys and girls, and don't get distracted by those who have no respect for education. Please concentrate on your fractions," Whittemore said, tapping the knuckle-breaker against his podium.
Addressing Brooksy, master continued, "Yes, yes, Mr. Brooks, I don't know why I hadn't seen this possibility before. Yes sir, Mr. Brooks - and class, do take note of this little lesson - some flowers are big and bright and fine almost as soon as they are born and others, dear children, take some time. Mr. Brooks here - I believe I am now seeing for the first time - is of the latter category. He is what is known as a late bloomer. And a late bloomer, Mr. Brooks," master said, winking his eye and tipping his head in a strange manner, "can sometimes be a very bright and useful individual indeed. Just how long have you been in the fifth grade Mr. Brooks?"
Several students snickered, one of them, Johnny Jenkins, burst out laughing, tying to muffle it with both hands.
"Hold both your hands out, Mr. Jenkins," said Master who approached the boy.
Crying profusely now, the ten-year-old held out both hands, his head looking away as though he was afraid to witness what was coming.
"Ow! Ow!" the boy screamed before Whittemore even rapped his knuckles once.
"Stop crying you little sissy, and take it like a young man!" said master.
He whacked little Jenkins on the knuckles with the knuckle breaker, causing the boy to scream.
"No please! Don't! I'll be good, master!"
"One more crack out of you and it won't be the knuckle breaker - it'll be the board of education on the rump ten times for all to see."
Mr. Whittemore went to the front of the room where Brooksy was still standing, his head down and his hands in his pockets. You could hear a pin drop.
"So Mr. Brooks, to continue with our little conversation sir that we were having before being so rudely interrupted by that little sissy, once again, sir, how many times have you been in the fifth grade?"
"Um. This is my second time," Brooksy said.
"Well Mr. Brooks we all know the story of the tortoise and the hare. Look at Jeremy and Jack, they started out as hares - lightning fast, oh yes, but slippery, slippery and deceitful, I say - but it's highly questionable whether either of those miscreants will ever cross the finish line and I do hope someone here will inform them of my sentiments. As for you Mr. Brooks, you are looking more and more like the tortoise in Aesop's wise fable. You have been persistent and you have plodded on ahead, always keeping your eye on the finish line even while you were kept back in the fifth grade. And if I'm not mistaken you were kept back too in the first grade, am I mistaken Mr. Brooks?"
"No sir," Jeremiah Brooks declared with pride.
"And so sir, three, not two times, but three times you were held at the discretion of your good teachers and still you plodded ahead, never to be defeated nor deterred, you knew that their advice was always of the highest caliber, and you listened to them so that now you are in the enviable position, Mr. Brooks, of being one of the few students in this classroom where we sit right now who is almost assured of passing the fifth grade. I do believe applause is in order girls and boys, ladies and gentlemen. All of the students, even Mike, who mercilessly picked on Brooks, clapped their hands.
Jeremiah Brooks, who only this morning believed himself to be the dumbest kid in the school, was now at the pinnacle of educational success. And he looked at Jimmy with camaraderie, pride and gratitude for having bought his 500 marbles - which incidentally could be bought for one cent each - and in so doing gave Jeremiah the valuable arithmetic lesson that catapulted him to venerable esteem not only in the eyes of his classmates, but most of all, in the eyes of Master Whittemore - surely the best teacher on the planet for who else could have achieved so much in only one day.
And Brooksy beamed again with pride as Master Whittemore said in front of the whole class, "Mr. Brooks, kindly come to my desk so that we can have a talk about your future. The rest of you also copy the lines I have written on the board onto your slates concerning the question of why it may be necessary for South Carolina to take the lead and secede from the United States if necessary. The upper level students need write an essay as to why secession might be necessary and why we and Texas and all other states must stand firm against the vicious, northern abolitionists. Now Mr. Brooks, I'll see you at my desk."
YOU ARE READING
Jack: Book One in the Trilogy, the Battle Begins
Teen FictionIn Book 1, Jack conspires with friend Jeremy to undermine their racist, secessionist teacher's efforts to poison his students' minds with his benefits-of-slavery lectures. Will the students buy into it? Not if Jack has any say. The book is dedicated...
