Evan Hunter: The blackboard jungle

When Rick finally spoke, he addressed Miller. He did not speak sternly or harshly or reprimandingly. He did not shout, and he did not whisper. He said it in a normal, conversational tone, and he looked directly at Miller when he said it, and he might have been discussing something entirely different, he might have been someone working at a bench alongside Miller’s who was simply explaining a job that had to be done.

He said, “I’m taking them down, Miller,” and Miller said nothing, and then Rick added, “I have to.”

Miller continued to stare at him for a moment, and the circle of faces seemed to blur together, and Rick wondered if he’d made the wrong choice. And then one of the faces broke into a smile, and that face was Miller’s, and Miller said, “Sure, Mr. Dadier.” And then he shouted, “All right, goddamnit, le’s break this up.”

The circle held for just a moment, and Rick shoved Belazi and West ahead of him, not knowing whether to expect resistance or not. But the boys parted to let him through, and Rick walked past them with his head high.

He was not surprised to hear a voice behind him pipe in a high falsetto, “Oh Daddy-oh! You’re a hee-ro .”

But a second voice shouted, “Oh, shut yo’ goddamn mouth!” and Rick smiled as he stepped into the corridor with Belazi and West ahead of him. He remembered what he’d thought earlier, before the fight, remembered what he’d thought about just one kid, one kid, that’s all, one kid getting something out of it all, one kid he could point to and say, “I showed him the way,” and that would make it all right, if he could only say that.

And so the smile mushroomed all over his face, and he walked down to Small’s office, smiling all the way, smiling happily because the second voice he’d heard had belonged to Gregory Miller.

Solly Klein stood near the bulletin board in the teachers’ lunchroom and pointed a stubby forefinger at the school page of the World-Telegram-Sun.

“Another list of names,” he said. “All the suckers who passed the elementary school exam this time.” He shook his head, tapped the tacked page with his finger, and then walked back to the table. “They never learn,” he said. “They get sucked in every year.”

“The way you got sucked in,” Lou Savoldi said, looking up from his tea.

“I got sucked in, all right,” Solly answered. “Had I known what...”

“Had I but known,” George Katz said, smiling. “Ah, had I but known.”

“Read your history book,” Solly said.

Rick, entering from the stairwell behind the gym, stopped at the refrigerator in the kitchen, opened the door, and looked inside for his container of milk.

“I’ve got the milk, Dadier,” Manners called from the table.

Rick nodded, closed the door, and then walked into the dining room.

“Look at all the happy faces,” he said, smiling.

“We ought to get two containers from now on,” Manners said. “I’ve almost finished this one.”

“You’re a greedy pig,” Rick told him.

“I can’t help it,” Manners said apologetically. “I like milk.”

“The trouble with you,” Katz said humorously, “is that you were weaned too early.”

“I was never weaned,” Manners answered slyly. “There’s nothing I like better than the breast.”

“You owe me money on that container,” Rick said. “And you haven’t paid me for yesterday’s yet, either.”

“Wait until payday,” Manners said. “I’m a little short.”

“High finance at Manual Trades,” Solly said sourly. “A bunch of bankers. What’s the bill come to now, Dadier? Twelve cents?”

“Twelve cents is a lot of money today,” Savoldi said.

Rick smiled. “As a matter of fact, it’s twenty-six cents. Milk went up.”

“Twenty-six cents is a lot of money today,” Savoldi said sadly.

“Just endorse your paycheck over to him, Manners,” Solly said. “That should just cover the debt.”

“He thinks he’s being funny,” Savoldi said, indicating Solly with a sideward movement of his head.

“Who me?” Solly asked. “There’s nothing funny about this dump, nothing. Except The Boss. He’s a riot.”

“He’s not a bad fellow,” Katz said.

“He’s a prince,” Solly said dryly.

“No, really. He’s not bad at all.”

“I said, didn’t I? A prince. They should send him someplace where royalty is appreciated.”

“Well, I don’t think he’s doing a bad job here,” Katz said staunchly.

“Nobody does a bad job here,” Savoldi said sadly.

“Except you, Lou,” Solly said.

Savoldi shrugged. “How can you do a bad job here?” he asked. “A bad job anyplace else is a good job here.”

“He’s finally catching on,” Solly said. “He’s been teaching here for eighty years, and he’s just getting wise.”

“I’m one of the Original Wise Men,” Savoldi said.

“It’s possible to do a good job here,” Rick said softly.

“Here’s Dadier again,” Solly said. “Dadier, you’d better be careful or you’ll wind up being a principal.”

“He’d like that,” Savoldi said sadly. “Wouldn’t you, Dadier?”

“That’s what I’m bucking for,” Rick said, smiling.

“You can always tell the hot-rods,” Solly said, wagging his head. “I spotted you for a hot-rod from go, Dadier. That’s why your arm is in a bandage now.”

“It’s healing,” Rick said, shrugging.

“Everything heals,” Savoldi said.

“Time heals all wounds,” Katz put in.

“Unless they use a zip gun on you someday. Try to heal a hole in your head,” Solly said.

“They won’t use a zip gun on me,” Rick said confidently.

“Famous last words,” Solly said.

“I don’t think they will, either,” Katz offered. “Dadier is a good teacher.”

“Oh, yeah,” Rick said.

“Yes, yes, you are,” Katz insisted. “You should have seen the way he handled those kids in the Christmas show.”

“Are you still crapping about that show, Katz?” Solly asked. “The term’ll be over in a few days, and he’s still talking about Christmas.” Solly shook his head.

“He believes in Santa Claus,” Manners said.

“Where’s your tie, Katz?” Savoldi asked. “No tie today?”

“He’s slipping,” Solly said.

“It was a very nice tie,” Katz said, a little embarrassed.

“Who said no?” Solly asked. “It was a very nice tie.”

“Then what was wrong about wearing it?” Katz asked.

“Nothing. But you could have stopped after you spilled catsup and coffee and mustard...”

“I never spilled anything on it,” Katz said seriously, offended.

“How did your kids like the tie, Katz?” Manners asked.

“They thought it was very nice,” Katz answered, still miffed.

“They don’t know ties from garter snakes,” Solly said.

“They’re not that dumb,” Rick contradicted.

“No, huh?”

“ I don’t think so.”

“That’s because you love them all, Dadier. There’s nothing like a little knifing to generate love and devotion.”

“Dadier is a professional hero,” Savoldi said.

“He stops rapes and knifings,” Manners said, “and is also available for Christmas shows, hayrides, and strawberry festivals.”

“No bar-mitzvahs ?” Solly asked.

“Those, too,” Rick said, smiling.

“What’s a bar-mitzvah ?” Savoldi asked innocently. “An Irish stew?”

“Yeah,” Solly said. “With presents.” He rose suddenly and walked to the window, staring out at the red brick of the housing project in the distance. “They got people living in there already,” he said.