Old Miss Gracing by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 5
Zeke realized that he had quickly become a creature of habit. He was now always ready for school a bit on the early side and brought Miss Gracing his “Golden Delicious” apple offering, though he was no longer alone in his choice. Other kids, including Jeremiah, brought in the “yellow fruit”
periodically. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this new development. At times he was glad to see that his present was no longer laughed at, but sometimes he no longer felt unique.
Zeke regularly took the seat right in front of Miss Gracing’s desk and the other kids, too, started taking the same seats every day. From his vantage point Zeke could get a private dialogue going with the teacher, being able to answer questions and make observations well within her earshot, without having to go through the trouble of raising his hand and being called on.
Some days she seemed slightly annoyed at Zeke’s privileged position, so he tried not to bother answering the easy questions. He would reserve his commentary for something in which he didn’t think he would be making the standard answer and could mesmerize her with his outlook. She was something less than mesmerized, but at times she was quite taken with the five-
year-old’s remarks and seemed to forgive him for the judicious use of his advantage.
When asking the class one of her questions designed to require opinion, thought and analysis, she asked what everyone thought of their President Eisenhower. Some kids said that he was “so old,” some that they didn’t know, some that their folks didn’t trust Republicans and some made observations that were probably about some other politician they saw on television, thinking it was “Ike.” Maybe he was somewhat out of sorts; maybe he was looking to stir up a little excitement; or maybe he thought that he had waited an appropriate time since his last transgression, but Zeke was out and out annoyed with the stupidity he heard in the volume of answers. So, without raising his hand, he forcefully said; “Eisenhower’s a military man. He’s personally seen the horrors of war unlike many non-participants who glamorize it. He’s, therefore, much less likely to get this country into one.”
Not knowing that Zeke was merely parroting as best he could, what his father had said about six months ago, Miss Gracing was startled at the response, knowing a number of ways to answer it, but was not quickly able to deem the one most suitable for a five year old audience. She finally said;
“That’s an interesting point of view. I’d like to discuss it
further another time, but right now,” clapping her hands to get attention, “It’s time for milk and cookies.”
Now Zeke was annoyed with Miss Gracing’s non-response and avoidance, while there was a general low cheer as the kids left their seats, running, skipping and walking over to the refrigerator. Zeke and Miss Gracing held back somewhat and she said; “Zeke, I’d like to talk to you after class, today.”
Zeke’s annoyance quickly turned to worry, as he had heard similar phrases used when there was some disciplinary problem.
He was distressed about what he had just said, her apparent reaction to it and afraid his mother would find out he was bad in school. He said; “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
As she walked by on her journey to the refrigerator, she put her right hand on Zeke’s cheek, smiled and said; “No, don’t be sorry. I’m really interested in what you said and want to discuss it further, one on one. Where do you get some of your ideas?” He held her hand against his cheek, thankful for the person who could always make him feel better.
Zeke could have said; “From my father” but that response would probably extinguish the interest and discussion, so he merely said; “I’m not sure.” No one had yet made him acquainted with the thought that there was nothing new under the sun.
Miss Gracing cheerfully dispensed the goodies and the rest of the afternoon was spent singing songs; “Daisy, Daisy give me
your answer, do. I’m half crazy, oh for the love of you. It won’t be a stylish marriage. I can’t afford a carriage. But, you’d look sweet up on the seat of a bicycle built for two.”
Zeke detected something he liked in the sound of that song.
Most kids didn’t seem to take any significance from it, sometimes incorrectly substituting other words here and there and only hearing the sound of the words, as a typical non-reflective five year old would. The class learned a new game, though. The kids made a line and each, in turn, went to the blackboard to solve a math problem put there by Miss Gracing.
The kids were giggling and commenting upon their perceptions of the problem’s difficulty. Some kids got things like 1+1=? and they successfully wrote down 2. When they had obtained the smile and approval of Miss Gracing they went to the back of the line to the clap of very small hands and the cheers of very small mouths. When Zeke got his turn the problem written was: 24 x 3 over 18 = ?.
He knew that “x” meant times, but he didn’t understand what it meant to put one number over another.
He slowly walked to the blackboard and took a piece of chalk in his right hand. He said; “I know that 24 x 3 = 72, but I can’t go further than that. What’s the line for?”
Miss Gracing said it meant “divided by,” to which he quickly responded; “Oh. Then four.” He paused and added; “Like
a batting average.” He paused again, wrinkled his brow and said; “Well, it can’t be a batting average, but it could be a slugging average if the guy hit a home run every time up.”
She again viewed him curiously, but simply said; “Well, I don’t know anything about baseball, so I’ll have to take your word on that part. But four is the correct answer.” As he walked sideways to the back of his line, he eyed Miss Gracing eyeing him. The previously silent crew gave out a hesitant half cheer, probably not certain of what they had seen and heard.
The game was still being enjoyed when the bells chimed.
Miss Gracing waited for silence, then said; “That’s it for today. Line up and follow me out. Zeke, please wait at my desk.”
While waiting there Zeke took notice of something that had previously escaped his eyes; a heavy 16 inch long pair of silver scissors with a very tapered end. He wondered why the scissors the kids used the other day to make baskets were so small and blunt, though they were obviously good enough for the task.
What were these for? He started to fidget with the heavy scissors, finally making a half-hearted attempt to lift them with one hand. When he heard Miss Gracing return, closing the door behind her, he dropped them back on the table, resulting in a very audible sound of a metal thud.
Miss Gracing said; “Zeke, don’t touch that.”
“Okay.”, he said quickly and nervously.
She took her seat behind the desk, checking the scissors and seeing that they were properly closed. “Bring your chair around here and we’ll chat without a desk separating us.”
He did as he was told, placing his chair opposite hers.
Upon sitting, he noticed a curvy pair of milky crossed legs opposite him. He briefly stared, but when he saw her eyes looking into his, he re-directed his line of vision to her face.
He watched to see when she would look away, so that he could return his gaze to the very interesting lower half of her body.
Of course, she could see what he was doing, enjoyed the “covert”
male attention and was mentally amused, tempered by a real desire for propriety.
The innocent dalliance ended when she said; “Zeke, have your parents taught you math?”
“Yes, my Mom mostly.”
“Why did she do that?”
Zeke didn’t know what to answer, as up until then, he thought that this was what all parents do. “I don’t know. We had the time. And it was fun for both of us.” He thought to himself; “Why can’t you take a long look out the window?”
She happened to oblige him, pretending to be extremely interested in a sparrow fascinated with the view inside the window. She saw the direction of his eyes through the corner of
hers, smiled and slowly returned the focus of her eyes to his, giving him adequate time to adjust his aim. “In class you made a compelling argument for having a military man as President.
Where did you get that idea?”
It wasn’t a simple answer for him. It was true that the words mimicked his father’s pronouncement, but he also knew that most people considered George Washington the greatest President and he was a military man and there was something which spoke to him in the logic of a truly tough guy not being compelled to prove his toughness. Lesser men have to keep demonstrating their worth, usually unsuccessfully, to themselves, if no one else. He knew this from the baseball he watched on TV. This would be hard to explain for him, at least at this age, so he merely said; “I have to admit that it came from my father.” He had a disparaging tone in his voice, as if he had produced no value in the repetition.
“Don’t be ashamed. Your father probably has a lot of good things to say about many things. I find it interesting that you chose to remember this particular one.”
“I remember others, too. This one just came up in the course of conversation.”
She chuckled at his choice of words and said; “Well, I like the thought very much, anyway.” She picked up the scissors and
continued; “Some people inexperienced with weapon handling overuse it. The experienced people use it judiciously.”
Zeke’s mom had been at the door for the last few seconds.
She had been waiting as usual at the gate. When she saw some of the kindergarten kids she knew leaving the schoolyard, she went looking for her baby, now to see unclearly through opaque glass, a leggy teacher holding a knife to her son and talking about judicious weapon usage. She pushed the door open, her sound causing Miss Gracing and Zeke to look her way, the teacher now distractedly pointing the clutched scissors at a somewhat distraught Mom.
“Well,” Mom said from a distance; “Was Zeke a bad boy today?” She eyed the scissors and felt somewhat relieved when Miss Gracing lowered them to her side.
“Of course he hasn’t been a bad boy. Sorry, I inconvenienced you. Zeke said some interesting things in class today. Does he get his ideas from you and your husband?”
Mom thought that question was a bit too broad, so responded; half-jokingly with “If they’re good ideas they probably come from me or my husband. If they’re bad ideas, I have no idea where he got them from.” She paused for the polite laughter and after being accommodated asked; “What kind of brilliance did he come up with today?”
Zeke made a scrunched face when his “brilliance” was discussed. Miss Gracing answered; “He had an idea about military men being better qualified to be the President and he did some math I consider difficult for someone his age.”
“We’ve always encouraged him to act like an adult. The military comment sounds like something he would get from his father and as I’ve said, I’ve shown him a lot of math.”
Zeke nodded yes, with his head hung down, somewhat dejected that now it was out in the open that he didn’t originate his ideas.
Miss Gracing said; “If he gets too far ahead of his classmates, he’ll have to make friends with older children. Who does Zeke play with?”
“Me and his father.” Silence persisted for a few seconds, when Zeke blurted out; “I also play with myself,” thinking of the baseball games he had at his disposal.
Both adults were again at least temporarily stymied, so Zeke amplified; “I have a few baseball games that don’t require another player.”
Miss Gracing said; “That sounds like a good idea to me. No one has a playmate at all times.” She reached out her right hand, offering a shake to Mom. Mom eyed the scissors in the teacher’s left, before gently leaning forward to warily clasp
hands. Miss Gracing continued; “I’m sorry. I must be keeping you from something.”
Again Mom was at a loss for words. She thought; “The areas covered in their generalities, probably suggest to the teacher things that are not true. Yet how am I to assuage a comment that has not yet been specifically made?” She was a bit annoyed, when she directly replied; “As a matter of fact you are. We’re in serious jeopardy of not getting to the grocery store for ‘Golden Delicious’ apples.” Dripping with sarcasm she added; “And thanks for your approval.” Zeke was uncomfortable with the tone of the “discussion.” It wouldn’t be until many years later that he would look back to this day as the first time two women had a catfight over him, which he would come to enjoy very much, but learn to not show it.
Miss Gracing forced a smile and Mom left with Zeke, taking him by the hand and hurrying him a bit. She put her scissors back down on her desk, realizing that she had been unsuccessfully trying to break that habit for years. She didn’t want others to draw inferences inconvenient to her interests. No one survives a complete past investigation and she knew she would fail more miserably than most.
She gathered her scissors and papers and put them in her shoulder bag and walked home. Zeke was on her mind. She wished she knew more about his home life. She wished that he had some
friends. She wondered if Mom realized that she was running the risk of creating a child that didn’t fit anywhere. Or, was this precisely what she wanted to do? When she opened the door Simon had another surprise waiting for her. He was leaning on the screened window overlooking the alleyway, across which a female cat was howling in heat on top of a storage building. She immediately got his dinner ready, but had to close the window to get his attention. Simon stared at the unsociable portal. He then pawed it, probably thinking that he could un-do the damage done by his old friend. He alternated his gazes between her and his now sealed-off fascination. He didn’t feel hungry, but descended from the ledge and stuck his face in the bowl when she called his name, thinking that this was what she wanted to see.
Zeke was quiet on the way home, but Mom seemed to have a lot to say about things that didn’t make much sense to him. “I suppose she thinks that we should stop teaching you things and find some objectionable playmate for you.” She was obviously irritated and while Zeke might have been able to correct her perceptions, past experience taught him that it would be severely uphill all the way. She became redundant, which Zeke always hated, she in turn waiting for him to say something that supported her position. He was well aware of the game, having played it before, but stubbornly refused to this time. When he got older and wiser he would discover that it was preferable to
say something innocuously untrue to her in private, as the alternative only increased his mother’s distaste for Miss Gracing and who could tell where that might lead?