You Must Remember This

Chapter 38: Puttin' On The Ritz

John entered Ms. Liu's classroom like any normal day: he waved hello, tried to remember which desk he was supposed to sit at, sat down, waited for Ms. Liu to remind him that wasn't his desk, moved to the right desk, and stared into space. Today, something felt different:

"Ms. Liu, I've noticed that Harry's been absent for a few weeks now. Is everything allright? Is he ill?"

"Oh, no, nothing of the sort. His grades were so good last semester that he transferred out of the class—he didn't need your help anymore. You succeeded. Yay!"

"How often do people graduate out of this program? I hope frequently."

"Very few, if I'm being honest with you. This year we've had more than usual, but it's rare people don't need a guiding touch through all four years. That's why we're so lucky to have tutors like you and Regina who are able to make a difference. When you graduate, don't forget that you've made someone's future better."

"I always try to look out for the little guy," John admitted. "At the end of the day, when I'm wandering through the cosmos, I'll survive. If others can't say the same, well, that's my duty. That's what a good person does."

"Harry did mention that he attended the club meetings; do you think that was it, John? Maybe that's why..." Ms. Liu trailed off, staring at the club poster taped in the back of her room with a new sense of understanding.

"The other day when we had brunch with Mr. T, he quoted Don Quixote, something I really appreciated: 'every man is as Heaven made him, and sometimes a great deal worse.' But why can't the tables be turned there? We live in the 21st century, there's nothing stopping a wee bit of upward mobility, don't you think? Ultimately, I think teaching is about revealing that inner essence—the power that was within everyone all along." Regina had silently snuck in during John's monologue, and had taken her seat—unlike John, she always knew where to sit.

"I think that's the purpose of everything in high school, John; it's the definition of personal growth, and it doesn't matter where exactly that push comes from. There are some people who are easily impressionable, who soak up the world like a sponge and live all of eternity as a muddled mess of ideologies and virtues. If you want to talk of Heaven, maybe that's what all of us need here, a bit of Jesus to give us something to focus on," Regina offered; she was not religious herself, but had come to the realization over the previous few years that maybe it would be good for her. She considered herself adventurous enough, and whenever she felt like the club was a bit cultish, it seemed a tempting counterbalance.

"When I look up, I see people cashing in. I don't see heaven, or saints or angels. I see people cashing in on every decent impulse and human tragedy. I see sharks chasing minnows and cats chasing mice. I see all my classmates selling their souls to the highest bidder just to line their pockets. Heaven's a lie, if that's what we've been promised. It's not here, wherever it is."

"That's a cheerful sentiment," Regina laughed. "I choose to be more optimistic: I couldn't have done high school without my friends. I don't believe they're all out to screw me. Nobody's selling their soul here."

"In a world full of crooks and conmen, the one person you can trust is yourself. I'm not a crook. You aren't either. But we can't say the same for everyone, right? That's just how life works."

"I don't know what I would have done without my friends. You can always sit around and meditate on your own worries, but when that isn't enough, what can you do?"

"I'm only speaking for myself, of course, but I think over time, I learned to compartmentalize my anxieties. I think back to freshman and sophomore year, and I cringe—it's absolutely shameful how many mistakes I made! But then I think more rationally: I am the only person who remembers these experiences in the same way, if at all. Even if I cringe, I have an important duty here: to protect what would otherwise be forgotten."