Jack: Book One in the Trilogy, the Battle Begins

The Plan Part 14

When Jack told me that Sunday morning in April, 1853, many years before we went off to that godforsaken war like heroes before we even arrived, that he had found a brand new fishing pole, I knew Jack was up to some scheme again and that he wasn't telling even half the truth.

"Let's go fishin'," said Jack. "I'll get us a boat and we'll have a whale of a time."

"Can't," I said. "Promised momma I wouldn't skip no more school."

"Com'on," said Jack. "You gonna' do everthin' you ole momma tells you to do. You sound like a little boy. What would you rather do? Go out to the fort and lay siege and take over it or listen to ole Master Whittemore blab away about fractions and rectangles and things that have no more to do with us than a pencil does with a catfish?"

"I can't," I said, knowing I'd eventually lose.

"Just tell your momma little boy that you studied all about fractions today and you know the whole book almost by heart. She can't read so she won't know the difference!"

"Yeah but my papa can sure read - he went to the fourth grade and he'll tan my hide with a hickory branch if he found out I skipped any more school."

"Your papa ain't gonna find out nothin' about it no way cuz your momma ain't gonna tell him and he don't pay no attention unless you momma says something about it and she won't know nothin'," said Jack convincingly.

"I don't know Jack. It ain't right lyin' to my momma."

"You big baby. Com'on. You can't have ya momma always telling ya what to do or you'll never do nothin' fun in your whole life. Be a man and grow up. Geez, com'on boy and stop botherin' me like that when you know you gonna do it anyway."

"You always get me into situations," I finally relented. "How're you gonna learn to read and write if you don't go to the schoolhouse and get an education?" I replied knowing my argument was as useless with Jack as throwing a tomato to stop a train.

"Hey I don't need that crap. Is it gonna help me catch a catfish? Gonna help me paddle the river? No. And I ain't got no use for it sonny boy. And you're a darn fool if ya think you is gonna get anything outa it neither. Besides I got all the schooling I need. I taught myself everthin' I need to learn. And I'm certainly not gonna sit there and be badgered by that fool schoolmaster Whittemore. Why you can't even leave your seat for a second but that old goat drones down on ya like a bunch a mad bees. So let's not blabber about this anymore. The morning's young. The fish are a'waitin' for my line and the fort is just a'settin' out there in that ole harbor awaitin' for us to conquer it."

"All right," I said, "let's do it. It certainly sounds like more fun than listening to master jabbering about fractions and adjectives. Boy I was falling asleep last Friday afternoon listening to that old codger. Every time my eyes would fold over that ole snapper would whack my knuckles with that ruler of his. Three times. My knuckles were killing me. But I just couldn't stay awake. There's something about his voice that puts me to sleep. His voice jabbering away with words like one-half and one-eighth and one this and one that and this part and that part and then I didn't know what in tarnation he was sayin'."

"Of course ya didn't and that damn fool didn't neither," said Jack. "He acts like he's the smartest thing in creation but yet ain't no-one but me in that whole school room who knowed him to be the darn fool that he is. Fractions ain't gonna help ya do nothin' in life and no-one but him wants to learn that crap and the only way he gets them kids to do anythin' he wants is to threaten to beat 'em. That's what education is to him, beatin' up the kids so as they'll not resist his stupid lessons or fall asleep. So that's why I don't go much anymore. Cuz Whittemore's a damn fool who don't know how to treat a kid properly."