Mr. Mac
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He wasn’t nothing like Mister Shookie at all. And, when it came
to teachers, everyone admitted Mr. Shookie was a man to admire.
He taught us learning with a rubber hose when he was really mad.
And if you was just mildly stupid he used a paddle. He sure
didn’t like ignorance. Occasionally he’d get mad so fast he just
used his big, heavy hand on your bottom till your water ran on
the floor,,, unless you learned something first. Even the big
eighth graders started learning from Mister Shookie when his
face began getting a mottled red! Mr. Shookie had run the school just fine when there was only fourteen kids in all eight grades. But then a whole bunch of people moved into the valley and suddenly they had to have TWO teachers! So they brought in Mr. Mack to teach fourth grade through the eighth in one building. And they let Mr. Shookie teach the little kids in the old building. |
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I had finally made it to the fourth grade that year they
made the big change. Mister Mack came out in front of us on
the first day and said: “I’m your new teacher- My name is
Mister McKesson. Where I taught school before kids called me
a lot of funny names like Mister Kisser and things like
that. So from now on, my name is Mister Mack.” Oh, he was a real mermaid. So out of place it was awful. You shoulda seen him grin when I started reading the new set of encyclopedias he’d brought with him, instead of going out to recess the first day- “Do you like those?” he asked. “Oh yeah.’ I told him. “I’ve already read all the good stories in the old small set we had.” He took another one out and handed it to me, open. “Start reading.” I began reading to him about a volcano in Mexico which just kept on growing. It was really a fun story. But then I came to a big, long word in Mexican whose track I didn’t know yet. I pointed to it and asked him what it was. “Spell it out,” he told me. “Do what?” He frowned- “Tell me how you spell it.” He paused as I struggled to understand what he was talking about. “Tell me what letters are in it.” I shook my head. I’d heard the other kids talking about letters, but I’d never got no chance to learn any of ‘em, or what you was supposed to do with them. “You’re in the fourth grade and don’t know the alphabet yet?” he snapped. I cowered away from him. As big as Mister Mack was there was no telling what a rubber hose in his hand would do to me! But it was okay. Mister Mack was a mermaid- He done things different from Mister Shookie. He grinned suddenly and exclaimed… “Well, we’ll sure fix that. Come on.” And he learned me my letters right then, as well as I ever learned them anyway. Almost every week Mister Mack would tell something on himself that was almost unbelievable. One time he said he’d been a professional tap dancer, and made a hundred dollars a night. Why I only made four dollars a day when I got to work; and grown men that worked seventy two whole hours a week only made thirty six dollars! So didn’t none of us believe him even when he showed us some kicks. Boy! That man could kick plumb over his head and hit the top of the barn door. If we had trouble understanding him I guess Mr. Mack had trouble understanding us, too. He couldn’t understand simple things about us, like tearing off a catalog sheet. So he drove a stick into the wall and put something on it called “toilet paper!” It took awhile, but I finally started using the stuff myself. But, you know what? After a week or two, I’d never go back to catalogs! He didn’t understand about fighting, either. One day he stopped to listen in while Sam Hill told us about a fight his dad was in. He said Henry had been laid up so bad he couldn’t move for a couple of months. Finally they laid him under a tree where the clean air could get in his lungs better. Along come Toady to fuss about the water. And Henry just groaned. So Toady kicked him a couple of times in the ribs to let him know this was serious business. But Henry cussed him out instead. Toady got so mad he climbed on top of him and began laying it on. Sam seen em going at it and came a running- He said Toady was sure grinning as long as he was winning. Then Henry snapped his barlow open. Toady heard it. He jumped like he’d already been stuck, trying to get loose. But Henry wouldn’t let him get away. He started carving away with that knife. He ripped the clothes right off Toady’s back. No matter what he done Toady couldn’t get loose of the old man. He was screaming like a stuck hog for Sam to get him loose. And Mister Mack butted in; right then at the goodest part. He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and said: “Don’t you be ashamed of your dad for fighting, Sam. He was just defending himself.” We stared at him in amazement as he walked off, kinder floating along like he was proud of himself. None of us could believe he’d actually said something stupid like that. He sure was a mermaid. Mister Mack’s favorite teaching tool was the Bee. We had spelling bees, math bees. geography bees, and the like. Everybody in the room competing across class lines on one side or the other. We done it by teams and we sure studied hard to help our team win. Cries of “Stop and THINK!” would ring out as a student known to blurt out wrong answers got up. We had a lot of loud enthusiasm for the successes of everyone on our teams. I studied harder than most. It wasn’t long before only a few eighth graders might be still standing any time I finally went down. He made us do play acting in front of the whole class. He made us do gymnastics, like handstands, and flips and somersaults. He really gave us an open door for us to impress each other with what we was learning. But, Buel was the only one in school who tried to impress Mister Mack. And HE had already decided he wanted to be a teacher. The chance to be cheered on as part of the winning team even got me going out for recess when there wasn’t even a fight coming up. Back then we only had three choices of sports: Volley ball. Running- And soft ball. I got so good at soft ball I usually only struck out nine times out of ten. When it came to running I almost came in fourth once. But, volley ball? Wow. I got it over the net almost every time that ball got near me. To this day my heart races with excitement as I remember Joy singing out “Roll Your Tater!” when it was time to change places. Volley ball was so important that we usually kept right on playing even after Mister Shookie rang his bell for the little kids to come in. By the time we got back to class everybody was ready to sit down. Mister Mack decided his first Christmas party was to be a shining example of,, I guess of whatever changes he thought he had to show off in us. Everybody but me had a part in the show we were going to put on for the grownups in Arrowhead Valley. Jarrell got to recite a poem he’d written all by himself. Polly got to do a Charleston all by herself. Buel, Malcolm and Mike were the three wise men. We were really putting on some kinda party just with stuff like that. But Mister Mack wasn’t satisfied. HE was thinking BIG- BIG! HE was going to bring in one of them there phonygraphs and have music for a real dance. And us kids was going to do the dancing. For more than a month he drilled us in the promenade. For more than a month he forced us to go through the actual motions of asking a girl to dance. I even got to put my arms around Gloria once! She was the prettiest girl in school. Why, my heart pounded just to think of being on the same team with her on a spelling bee. And SHE was in my arms for almost a whole minute once, thanks to Mister Mack making me ask her. He was determined that everything would go just right. Over and over again he lined us up and made us boys ask the girls to dance. It was wonderful to be driven like that to touch hands and link arms with such delightful creatures. Just atween you and me, they always smelled better than the boys, even in the cotton patch. On the day of the Christmas Party he drilled us one more time in asking the girls to dance. He beamed at us so proudly when we did it well. Everybody knew their parts, too. Then just before we left school that day the party fixings began coming in. Some man brought in two big square chunks of ice, wrapped in wool blankets for the long haul. I had to feel of it myself before I’d believe ice was really as cold as they said. Some rich women brought in Kool Aid to make punch with. Others brought in paper cups, cookies; cakes, and somebody even brought in crepe paper to decorate the school with. Mister Mack was just beaming. He was so proud. Daddy and Mama found out about the party somehow and invited themselves to be there. It was the first time in my life I’d ever seen Daddy in anything besides unionalls. For the first time I realized that I got my good looks from HIS side of the family. Mama wouldn’t let him take the cigar to school with him though. And that ruined everything even though he still had a belt on. Off we went down the fence row in the dark. Daddy led the way because he knew all the draping branches and mud holes by memory a cause it was along the way he walked to town to buy groceries. The school looked totally new when we got there, its walls was so decked out with holly. There was colored lights gleaming out the windows at us. Somebody was playing Christmas tunes on the phoneygraph. Cars was parked everywhere. There was kids yelling, women screaming; and men hollering all over the place. It was like breathing pure excitement. And everybody was out to impress everybody else with something about themselves they was especially proud of. Mr. Shookie got up after awhile and welcomed everyone to the joint school Christmas Party. He said his classes would do their stuff first. Then Mister Mack’s classes would get to do their stuff- Everybody clapped their hands and stomped their feet when he finally got set down. But I thought he’d done pretty good myself. All through the party there was a lot of smiling, laughing and shouts of “That’s MY kid!” Even Mama smiled a little bit when Lib done something cute on stage. Then Mister Mack cleared the way for the dance. “We’re going to let the boys choose their own partners first!” he declared. I knew what I was supposed to do, but suddenly there were thousands and thousands of eyes staring right at me to see who was going to let me dance with them. There was a hushed expectancy as they waited. My blood curdled inside my breast. That wall behind me was the only safe place in the school. I’da been a lot safer on the OTHER side of it though. Sweat rolled off of me like I was grinding hay. Finally, I had nerve enough to glance around at the other boys. You gotta remember there were some mighty tough boys in that school. But right at that moment I was the only boy there whose mouth wasn’t hanging open in a silent, terrified scream! At last the girls gave up on us and danced with each other and all the boys heaved a great sigh of relief. Them girls sure were pretty out there though. Gloria was wearing a bright, yellow dress that showed the dimples in her knees. Oh, how I wanted to be out there dancing with her. But Mister Mack had let me down; When it really counted the most he didn’t make me go ask her to dance. Then the grownups got in the way; stomping their feet and hollering fit to raise the roof. Mister Mack mingled with the guests, sipping punch with everyone. Then, when the dancers finally thinned out some to rest he stopped the phoneygraph and waited until every eye in the place was on him. “And now,’ he declared — “I’m going to do a real tap dance for you.” Nobody said nothing. The people there knew more about chopping cotton than they did tap dances. They just stared at him with their jaws open. They glanced at each other nervously as he grabbed up his accordion and began making some real fast music. Were that all he done he mightof been okay, but insanity grabbed him. Suddenly his feet started jerking in all kinds of directions. His heels and his toes were clicking like crazy. His eyes were gleaming under the bright lights which he was almost touching with his toes on them high kicks. There were a lot of shocked faces as he gyrated all over the room. They wouldn’t have been no more shocked if a real mermaid had suddenly flopped in front of them on one of the sand dunes outside. His contortions made his long hair flop back and forth like a mop. People had to scurry out of his way a dozen times as his imminence demanded the right of way for his art to be performed. You could tell didn’t nobody know what to make of the way he flopped around! When he stopped couldn’t nobody say a word. They just stared at him. He waited, waited for almost sixty whole seconds. The silence was awful. Slowly, he put the accordion away and told everyone Merry Christmas, it was time to go home. Because of the rush we were one of the last families to leave. I glanced back inside and Mister Mack was sitting behind his big oak desk with his head down in his hands. Sometimes I wonder if he was crying but I hope he was just exhausted from all that kicking around. I never saw Mr. Mack again. Come Christmas, Daddy and Mama moved us kids down to Aztec “that didn’t have no teacher like that” I’ve thought of Mister Mack hundreds of times since then. Somebody said the state only let him teach that one year. He was too different. He was too unique. He was so out of place there it was like he really was a mermaid. And he had really slipped up. Like everybody else there that night Mr. Mack had wanted to impress people with what he done best. I guess he just didn’t understand that in OUR world people bragged about how big a ditch they could dig or how much hay they could bale in a day. I know Mr. Mac fooled some of the kids there that year into wanting something different out of life though. Out of the thirty two students there with me I know that Malcom became a Federal judge. Buel got to be a high school principal. Jarrell is writing songs under contract to some famous singer. Alfred was decorated for valor as a courageous marine. Jerry Paul made enough to buy his own ranch. Joy helps her husband farm a section of ground and is teaching ballet on the side. Evelyn is a hospital supervisor. Sam runs a tri-state produce trucking company. Darrell set some high school track records for running that still stand today in our state. Gloria has her own performing arts theatre in Phoenix. Mike owns his own insurance company with five or six agents working for him full time. Maybe some of the others might have done some good too. But I wouldn’t know; peripatetic tap dancers like me are so successful they just don’t have much time to keep track of the people they used to know. |
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