Educational Experience

Chapter Six

And Delores jumped in on his behalf with, “If you’d do your job we wouldn’t have to send the police to your house!”

“Oh, please! He’s callin’ me every ten minutes whinin’ about somethin’ or other! Grow some goddamned balls!”

 Price finally raised a “Stop” palm and said, “That’s enough!”

But Big Mama barked, “Don’t be talkin’ to me like I’m one o’ them kids! I’m a big girl now, Miss Principal!”

I muttered, “No shit…” and shook my head.

And she gave me laser eyes again, and said, “And I have had just about enough lip from you, Pretty Boy!”

She said it like it was personal. And it was. She hated my fuckin’ face and envied the free ticket to the good life she thought it had given me. See, I represented all the “injustice” in the world in one smug, sugar coated package.

But I just looked right back at her, smiled and said, “C’mon wit it, Mama. Do your thing.”

And you could’ve heard a pin drop in there—somebody should’ve shut me up, but they all wanted to see what she’d do with that.

She did about what I expected she would. She smiled back at me like she knew where I was coming from. And where I came from, too—we had a little homecoming moment, her and me. But it didn’t slow her roll.

 “Oh, I’m gonna do my thing, don’t you worry,” she assured me. “What goes around comes around, Cutie Pie! You put a hurtin’ on my boy, I’ll put a hurtin’ on you! Best believe that!”

But when I said, “Oh, you threatenin’ me now? In front o’ God, the cops and a room fulla witnesses?” her face fell a little. I’d zigged when I should’ve zagged. Confused her.

So she came at me with, “Don’t you be puttin’ words into my mouth!”

I said, “Lady, I wouldn’t put nothin’ in your mouth. Trust me,” and the black cop waved his arms and went, “Whoa, whoa, whoa—back it up, son,” even though he was clearly amused by what I’d said.

And I had worked Jabba’s last nerve. She hefted that mountain of meat around to face front, pointed that sausage finger at me and hissed, “Don’t you disrespect me, you little snot nosedson of a bitch! Who the fuck do you—“

She turned again—faster than you’d ever think she could—put her hands on the place where her hips may have started and yelled, “--are you all gonna set there’n’ let this little piss ant talk to a parent like that?! I’m already gonna sue all your asses for the beatin’ ‘e gave my boy’n’ now you’re gonna set here and let him verbally assault me?”

“The only verbal assault thus far’s been on your side o’ the table,” the note pad cop asked wearily. “Only assaults of any kind’ve been on your side o’ this thing.”

“Well, I wanna press charges! And as the parent of the one ‘e manhandled I got a right to do that, don’t I?”

“Everything we’ve seen so far? The teacher’s the only one with a legit case.”

“What the hell do you mean?!”

The note pad cop sighed and looked at Taylor.

“Do you want to press charges, ma’am?”

“Do I have a choice?” Taylor asked.

“The district is pressing charges,” Price said. “Several charges. So no, Wyatt. In this case, you don’t have a choice.”