Educational Experience

Chapter Three

3.

My case had been bullshit top to bottom, so Lee Ann was really trying to help me get through my “conditions of probation” as best she could. She was also trying to find a loophole big enough for me to crawl through—maybe an online solution or something. But the judge wasn’t going for it so far.

Anyway, I was always glad to see her. But she kinda unnerves the kids a little bit because she’s that kind of “stone butch” lesbian who is constantly mistaken for a guy. She wears men’s clothes for one thing. But she also just walks and talks like one of those jocks you’d see loping to class over at the U, maybe. And she relates to me like a guy would--straight up. I sometimes forget it’s a woman I’m talking to, which has made for some really interesting exchanges, I have to admit. But I think being a bit of both sexes gives her a huge advantage. She kind of understands everybody’s side of things. I envy her that a little bit.

She bopped over to me with this cool little smile on her face, put a hand on my shoulder and said, “How do you like it so far?”

I said, “Sucks, but I’ll survive.”

Which made her laugh. She’d figured as much, of course. So she sat on the edge of the table—the multimedia class had long tables instead of desks. Which were even easier for the kids to walk across. Honestly, they ask for this shit, the public schools. They really do.

“We’re out at, like, one or something, right?” I asked her.

“Hot date, right? I heard! It’s gonna be fun for her.”

“Yeah, I—“

Some kid banged right into her and she spun around—and caught my arm before I could go after him.

“It’s cool! I’m good,” she assured me.

I gave her a look…but I didn’t give chase.  And whoever’d done it was long gone anyway.

“This is a zoo, this place,” I told her.

“Well, it’s over after this. They changed it at the very last minute, too,” she said. “My idea, though”

“Dare I ask?”

“I thought the teacher was a safer bet than most. Very easy on the eyes, by the way.”

I gave her another little look, and said, “That’d be a refreshing change.”

And I followed her out of that building and down this walkway that was painted green—I found out later that they’d painted all the walkways and hallways floors in the Senior Wing green. Graduation Green, they called it—like the “Go” green in a traffic light. I swear I’m not kidding--is that too Sesame Street for high school or what?

But anyway, we followed the green walk to the Senior Humanities building, where things were going south in a hurry. There’d been kids running around pushing and shoving and cussing all day. But now it felt like there were more kids in the halls than in the classrooms. Loud as hell, too—knocking each other into the old lockers they don’t even use.

I don’t know why they haven’t been removed yet. And they still have locks hanging on them, too. So every few seconds you’d hear, “BANG! Clatter… BANG! Clatter…” The locks do the “clattering.” Some of the kids were running down the hall sliding their hands over ‘em just to make even more of a racket. It was like a Marx Bros. movie in those hallways by then.

If you’re wondering about security, forget that. Districts cut back on all that a long time ago—there’s just no money. Yeah, I know, after all the shootings and all it seems ridiculous, but there’s just no money. And this campus took up a city block and some—no way they could hire enough security. Kids always find places to get up to no good in, security or no, though. You could bring in the fucking National Guard and they’d still manage to get into all kinds of nooks and crannies. And trouble.