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With Apologies to Jessica

Linda Johnson
Whittemore Park Middle School
Conway, SC

You were in the same class with Jason, Lynn, and Eddie—Lord knows I had my hands full. They needed attention more than oxygen. Then Twanna was always fussing at the boys, and Amy kept us in turmoil over her latest love. There were plenty to take the spotlight off you.

So I really didn't know much about you until one day you wrote a heart wrenching defense of a family friend who had just been arrested for a heinous crime. It hadn't been the prompt for the day. You were supposed to write about something you enjoyed collecting. I even brought in some of my miniature collection to personalize the lesson and motivate your writing. But instead, this anger and passion came churning up, spattering the paper with your hot, vehement bile.

That night I found your paper in the stack, camouflaged to look like all the others. But what I read took my breath away. I pondered long and hard for the most appropriate reaction, then wrote a measured response filled with pious platitudes, carefully designed to cool your flames and cover my backside too.

As you entered the room the next morning, I was acutely aware of your presence. You answered my good morning and took your seat in the usual manner, but your face held an expectancy; an unanswered tension filled the air. The papers were passed back, and I watched apprehensively as you read my response. When you did look up, your eyes were once again passive; the bubble of tension had burst.

Apparently, I had satisfied your burning questions, because this day you wrote about dolls.