Evan Hunter - The blackboard jungle

That was the story, and Rick read it well, even though he was reading it for the first time, and reading it aloud at that. He’d tried out for a good many college shows back at Hunter, and he was excellent at sight reading and interpretation.

He was delighted with the story because he had never read it before and it was a new experience to him as well as to the boys in the class. But he was sorry in a way that it was not a war story, because it was decidedly allegory, and allegory was probably far above the heads of these kids, and allegory should be taught only from a carefully prepared lesson plan.

He had no such plan, and he had already read the story, and he faced the unusually silent class and wondered just what the hell he should do next. Allegory with second termers — some of whom couldn’t even write their own names.

“Well,” he said, “that was a pretty good story, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” the kids said, and he could tell they meant it and had really enjoyed it.

“All about a knight who kills dragons, right?” he asked.

“Sure,” the kids agreed. That’s what it was about, wasn’t it? A knight who kills dragons, except he gets killed in the end, a sad ending.

“What else was it about?” Rick asked.

Finley, a kid near the back of the room, said, “He didn’t really kill those dragons.”

“What do you mean, Finley?” Rick asked.

“He was cheatin’,” Finley said righteously. “He had a magic word.”

“What was the magic word?” Rick asked, and the class chorused, “Rumplesnitz!”

“That’s a funny word for a magic word, isn’t it?” Rick asked.

“It wasn’t no magic word,” Bello shouted.

“Wasn’t it?” Rick asked.

“The principal tole him it wasn’t no magic word,” Bello said. “That’s how come he could kill the dragon without sayin’ it. You remember that?”

“Yes, I remember it,” Rick said slowly.

“So it wasn’t no magic word.”

“Yeah, there wasn’t no magic word at all,” Spencer said. “He was just killin’ the dragons his ownself.”

“Now, I don’t understand that,” Rick said, pleased with the response, but not for a second thinking he was going to break through. “If it wasn’t a magic word, why’d the Headmaster give it to him?”

The class was silent for a few minutes, and then Shocken said, “ ’Cause Gawaine was scared. He was a coward.”

“But couldn’t he kill dragons?” Rick asked. “He did kill fifty dragons, and you just told me Rumplesnitz wasn’t a magic word at all.”

“Sure, he killed them,” Finley said. “But he was cheatin’.”

“Was he cheating? Remember now, there was no magic word.”

“So what?” Finley sneered. “He thought there was a magic word.”

“Yes,” Rick said, beginning to get a little excited now, surprised that they had garnered so much from the story, but still not realizing he was on the verge of his breakthrough. “That’s just it. Gawaine thought it was a magic word. And did that help him kill the dragons?”

“Sure,” White said.

“But how?”

“ ’Cause he thought it was magic. He figured I go out there, ain’t nothin’ goan happen to me. Tha’s how come he kill all those dragons.”

“Did Gawaine need the magic word?” Rick asked.

“Sure,” the kids said.

“Why?”

There was another silence, and Rick thought This is the end of it. The party’s over. The response dies now. Now we get the blank faces.

“He need it,” Speranza said, raising his hand.

“Why?”

“He scared of the dragons. If he don’t have the magic word, he run away. This way, he don’t know it’s not magic. He thinks it’s magic, so he feels strong. He thinks he can kill any old dragon and the dragon can’t touch him. That’s why he needs it. Otherwise, he’s a coward.”

“How do you know that?” Rick asked the class.

“Well, once he finds out the word ain’t magic,” Daley said, “he gets et up.”

“And is that why the Headmaster gave him this magic word?” Rick asked, praying the response would continue, feeling that something was happening out there, something he’d never experienced before. The kids were alive today, and he felt their life, and he responded to them the way they were responding to him, both he and the class thrashing out an allegory they had never seen before. “Is that why?” Rick asked.

“That principal, he’s a smart cat,” Davidson said. “He knows Gawaine need something.”

“What does Gawaine need?” Rick asked. “What’s the word for it?” Please, give me the word, he thought. Don’t let me hand it to you on a platter. Please, give.

“What’s the word?” he asked again.

“Con...” Daley started.

“Yes?”

“Confidence,” Daley said triumphantly.

“Ah-ha, that’s it,” Rick said. “Confidence.” He paused and made a sour face. “But that doesn’t seem real,” he said. “I mean, do you really think a word could give someone the confidence he needed?”

“Yeah, sure,” Speranza said belligerently.

“No, I don’t think so,” Rick said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Speranza said. “Sure, it could happen.”

“How?”

“Well... like sometimes I’m scared before we take a test or something, an’ I say three Hail Mary’s, and I feel okay after that.”

“It gives you confidence, is that right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Speranza said.

“But still... a word like Rumplesnitz. I mean, after all, Hail Mary is a prayer. Rumplesnitz isn’t a prayer.”

“I don’t think,” Padres said slowly, “thees word means that. I mean, I don’t think Rumplesnitz ees suppose to be nothing. You know what I mean?”

“Not exactly,” Rick said. He felt hot all at once. He felt almost feverish. He was tense and tight, and he knew now that the kids were really responding, were really discussing this thing the way it should be discussed, were really giving him something, helping him. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t stop to ask why. He just held on and prayed almost, and he heard Padres say, “Thees Rumplesnitz, thees ees a fake, you know? I mean, the Hail Mary, that’s real. Rumplesnitz, it don’t mean nothing. Thees Gawaine, he fooling heemself.”

“How is he fooling himself?” Rick asked.

“ ’Cause there ain’t no magic,” Bello said derisively. “Hell, he coulda killed all the dragons he wanted, Rumplesnitz or no.”

“Yes, then why does he need the word? Are there people like that who fool themselves? Who need magic words?”

“Sure,” Price said. “My brother-in-law’s like that.”

“How so. Price?”

“Oh, he’s a big bull artist, you know. He’s always talkin’ about his big deals, but he ain’t really got no big deals. He’s jus’ a little crumb, you know? But he makes out like he’s a big shot.”

“And is he one?” Rick asked.

“Naw, he’s a crumb. But he talks so much, I think he believes it himself.”

“Like Rumplesnitz, you mean?”

Price hesitated for a moment, and then a smile flowered on his face. “Yeah,” he said, surprised, “like Rumplesnitz. Just like that.”

It was rolling now. It was rolling fast, and the kids out there all had their hands up in the air, and those hands were waving frantically.

“Does anyone else know anyone like that?” Rick asked. “People who fool themselves like that. People who could kill dragons if they tried, but who are too afraid to without the help of magic.”

The kids were squirming because they all had something to say. They didn’t call out because they wanted this lesson to proceed in an orderly fashion. They were enjoying this, and they felt something of the same thing Rick was feeling, and they wanted to express their ideas.