Brent was assigned to..."
As Arnold talked I tried to listen, but my mind kept drifting back to September. I saw Miller standing in front of the class again. I remembered the way he'd acted, both that day and before. I hadn't liked him, and I didn't feel bad about not liking him. But I didn't want him to be dead. I didn't want anybody to be dead.
I looked to Arnold. "You hear that one soldier was killed here, or two there," he was saying, "and it doesn't make much
of an impact. But each one of those soldiers has a family, has friends, has a story, just like Brent did. Each one of them had a life they never got to lead."
When class ended, we all filed out silently. But as soon as we were in the hall, Brian Mitchell confronted Melissa. "I bet you're happy," he hissed.
'"The dumb soldier got what he deserved.'
That's what you're thinking. You should join al-Qaida if you hate America so much. Go bow down to Allah. You make me sick."
Melissa's face went white and she burst into tears. I stepped between Brian and her. "Shut up, Mitchell," I said.
He wheeled around. "Don't tell me to shut up. I'll say whatever I want to say. You're as bad as she is, anyway."
A crowd had formed around us. "You're being a moron, Brian," I said.
That's when he started throwing punches. I should have been expecting it, but I didn't get my hands up until he'd smacked me once right in the face. I grabbed him around the waist and wrestled him to the ground. We thrashed around trying to punch each other for a minute or so. Then somebody grabbed me from behind, and I guess somebody must have grabbed him too. A minute later I heard Arnold's voice. "What's going on here?"
"Nothing," I said, twisting free from whoever was holding me.
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"I mean nothing."
"So why's your nose bleeding?"
I put my hand to my face and felt the hot blood. "It's nothing," I repeated.
"It's not nothing," Arnold said. He looked to Brian Mitchell. "Both of you come with me."
Once we reached the main office, Arnold went to find the nurse, Ms. Tolbert. She handed me a small towel and had me lean forward and pinch my nose. "Don't lean your head back or you'll swallow your own blood."
I was still pinching my nose when Ms. Dugan appeared in the doorway. "Come with me," she said.
I followed her to her office. Brian Mitchell was slouched in a chair by the window, his arms folded across his chest. Dugan motioned for me to sit in the chair next to him.
"You fight, you get suspended. It's that simple. We have a zero-tolerance policy, and you both know it." She picked up the telephone. "I'm calling your folks, Chance. What's your phone number?"
I looked at the floor.
"Come on. What's your number? I can get it from the secretary, you know."
"I don't have a phone number," I said.
"What do you mean, you don't have a phone number?"
"Just what I said."
"How about a cell phone?"
I shook my head.
"Your mom or dad got a work number?"
Again I shook my head.
"So how does a person get in touch with them?"
"Ms. Dugan, I'm pretty much on my own. So if there's something you want to say, just say it to me."
Brian cleared his throat. "How about if Chance and me just shake hands and go home." Brian turned to look at me. "You'll shake my hand, won't you?"
"Sure," I said. "I'll shake your hand." He stuck his hand out and I shook it.
"OK?" Mitchell said, looking to Dugan.
Dugan stared at me, and then at Mitchell. "All right. I'll ignore what happened. But this ends here. You understand? You two don't even bump shoulders in the hall or I will suspend you."
I nodded. So did Brian.
Dugan motioned with her right hand. "Go on, get out of here. Brent Miller has us all frazzled."
Mitchell and I walked down the long empty hall side by side. I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to me. When he reached the main doors, he pushed them open and took the stairs two at a time. I watched him until he had crossed the street. Then I started down the stairs
As Arnold talked I tried to listen, but my mind kept drifting back to September. I saw Miller standing in front of the class again. I remembered the way he'd acted, both that day and before. I hadn't liked him, and I didn't feel bad about not liking him. But I didn't want him to be dead. I didn't want anybody to be dead.
I looked to Arnold. "You hear that one soldier was killed here, or two there," he was saying, "and it doesn't make much
of an impact. But each one of those soldiers has a family, has friends, has a story, just like Brent did. Each one of them had a life they never got to lead."
When class ended, we all filed out silently. But as soon as we were in the hall, Brian Mitchell confronted Melissa. "I bet you're happy," he hissed.
'"The dumb soldier got what he deserved.'
That's what you're thinking. You should join al-Qaida if you hate America so much. Go bow down to Allah. You make me sick."
Melissa's face went white and she burst into tears. I stepped between Brian and her. "Shut up, Mitchell," I said.
He wheeled around. "Don't tell me to shut up. I'll say whatever I want to say. You're as bad as she is, anyway."
A crowd had formed around us. "You're being a moron, Brian," I said.
That's when he started throwing punches. I should have been expecting it, but I didn't get my hands up until he'd smacked me once right in the face. I grabbed him around the waist and wrestled him to the ground. We thrashed around trying to punch each other for a minute or so. Then somebody grabbed me from behind, and I guess somebody must have grabbed him too. A minute later I heard Arnold's voice. "What's going on here?"
"Nothing," I said, twisting free from whoever was holding me.
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"I mean nothing."
"So why's your nose bleeding?"
I put my hand to my face and felt the hot blood. "It's nothing," I repeated.
"It's not nothing," Arnold said. He looked to Brian Mitchell. "Both of you come with me."
Once we reached the main office, Arnold went to find the nurse, Ms. Tolbert. She handed me a small towel and had me lean forward and pinch my nose. "Don't lean your head back or you'll swallow your own blood."
I was still pinching my nose when Ms. Dugan appeared in the doorway. "Come with me," she said.
I followed her to her office. Brian Mitchell was slouched in a chair by the window, his arms folded across his chest. Dugan motioned for me to sit in the chair next to him.
"You fight, you get suspended. It's that simple. We have a zero-tolerance policy, and you both know it." She picked up the telephone. "I'm calling your folks, Chance. What's your phone number?"
I looked at the floor.
"Come on. What's your number? I can get it from the secretary, you know."
"I don't have a phone number," I said.
"What do you mean, you don't have a phone number?"
"Just what I said."
"How about a cell phone?"
I shook my head.
"Your mom or dad got a work number?"
Again I shook my head.
"So how does a person get in touch with them?"
"Ms. Dugan, I'm pretty much on my own. So if there's something you want to say, just say it to me."
Brian cleared his throat. "How about if Chance and me just shake hands and go home." Brian turned to look at me. "You'll shake my hand, won't you?"
"Sure," I said. "I'll shake your hand." He stuck his hand out and I shook it.
"OK?" Mitchell said, looking to Dugan.
Dugan stared at me, and then at Mitchell. "All right. I'll ignore what happened. But this ends here. You understand? You two don't even bump shoulders in the hall or I will suspend you."
I nodded. So did Brian.
Dugan motioned with her right hand. "Go on, get out of here. Brent Miller has us all frazzled."
Mitchell and I walked down the long empty hall side by side. I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to me. When he reached the main doors, he pushed them open and took the stairs two at a time. I watched him until he had crossed the street. Then I started down the stairs
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