Read Online Fat School Confidential by Joe Rourke - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Joe Rourke
Ads: Link
found a script of the movie version of Little Shop. Good enough.
A wave of guilt hit me. I shouldn’t be doing this, I thought to myself. I was a writer, an artist. I understood the importance of protecting my rights. Why did I justify infringing on someone else’s? Sure, I misjudged Elijah’s character, but here I was making yet another questionable decision—a decision where I was the culprit. But I had to follow through.
The show must go on.
Just after school, Ellie and Bobby showed up at my office. I pulled out a couple Godzilla windup toys from my desk drawer for the little guy to play with. Ellie and I talked about their day and adjusting to the new neighborhood. Daniel stopped by, exchanging a handshake with Ellie. He glanced at my son.
“ This must be Bobby.”
Not looking up, the little guy kept playing with his little monsters. After some small talk, Daniel gave Ellie and Bobby a mini version of the tour he gave me, since he had to get to Summit. After Daniel excused himself, I accompanied my family to the emu pen, taking a look at the flightless birds. A chain-link fence surrounding the three of them, it provided a serviceable, if drab enclosure. We got within a couple feet of the perimeter when the birds, making a guttural, drum-like sound, approached. Bobby, wary of them, stepped back. I didn’t blame him. Whose brilliant idea was it to keep emus, anyway? And I wondered: What if the kids got hungry? I mean, really hungry?
We moseyed over to the horse corral, and I introduced the family to the resident horse, Storm. An older fellow, Storm ambled toward us when called. I supplied Ellie and Bobby with plenty of carrots to keep the big guy happy. But as with the emus, Bobby was uneasy connecting with large animals.
“ I’m scared, Papa.”
“ It’s okay. Look. I’ll feed him.”
Holding out a carrot with one hand, I petted Storm along the crest with my other hand.
“ See!”
Bobby was excited, all right, but not excited enough to feed Storm all by himself. I picked Bobby up, and with his hand helping my hand, we fed Storm together. After checking my watch, I handed the little guy to the missus and headed off to Summit.
The meeting was already under way. Daniel was wrapping up a talk on respecting each other and boundaries. He then introduced a friend of his from Yale, Bill Moses, to the group. Tall and thin like Daniel, though a bit on the scrawny side, Bill stood and waved to the distracted crowd. Sporting glasses, a mild pompadour and preppy, casual attire, Bill came across a shade geekier than Daniel—as if that were possible. Sheila followed, giving a rousing, yee-haw-punctuated spiel. These were but mere warm-ups for the main attraction: Elijah’s apology. Standing before his peers and staff, Elijah read from a handwritten letter.
“ I, Elijah Coleman, stand before y’all here, the A.O.S. community, that I have disrespected my classmates. For this, I am very deeply sorry. I came to Academy of the Sierras to lose weight. But what I have gained here is so much more than that. I have made friends here, friends that I love and will carry long after I am gone from this place. I said things that were wrong, and I hope that my actions from now on will speak louder than my words.”
From the looks of it, Elijah’s speech worked. Tearful hugs and high-fives greeted him as he joined his classmates and friends. As I scanned the room, I noticed Jimmy standing in
the shadows. I guess even he knew who was becoming the new poster child of A.O.S.
After a yummy, A.O.S.-sponsored meal of buffalo spaghetti—which even my finicky son enjoyed, we drove home. Snuggled in his car seat, Bobby fell fast asleep.
As we cruised towards Kingsburg, I thought of Elijah and his speech, about his meteoric rise in popularity—and his massive weight-loss. I only hoped he could continue his success as
A wave of guilt hit me. I shouldn’t be doing this, I thought to myself. I was a writer, an artist. I understood the importance of protecting my rights. Why did I justify infringing on someone else’s? Sure, I misjudged Elijah’s character, but here I was making yet another questionable decision—a decision where I was the culprit. But I had to follow through.
The show must go on.
Just after school, Ellie and Bobby showed up at my office. I pulled out a couple Godzilla windup toys from my desk drawer for the little guy to play with. Ellie and I talked about their day and adjusting to the new neighborhood. Daniel stopped by, exchanging a handshake with Ellie. He glanced at my son.
“ This must be Bobby.”
Not looking up, the little guy kept playing with his little monsters. After some small talk, Daniel gave Ellie and Bobby a mini version of the tour he gave me, since he had to get to Summit. After Daniel excused himself, I accompanied my family to the emu pen, taking a look at the flightless birds. A chain-link fence surrounding the three of them, it provided a serviceable, if drab enclosure. We got within a couple feet of the perimeter when the birds, making a guttural, drum-like sound, approached. Bobby, wary of them, stepped back. I didn’t blame him. Whose brilliant idea was it to keep emus, anyway? And I wondered: What if the kids got hungry? I mean, really hungry?
We moseyed over to the horse corral, and I introduced the family to the resident horse, Storm. An older fellow, Storm ambled toward us when called. I supplied Ellie and Bobby with plenty of carrots to keep the big guy happy. But as with the emus, Bobby was uneasy connecting with large animals.
“ I’m scared, Papa.”
“ It’s okay. Look. I’ll feed him.”
Holding out a carrot with one hand, I petted Storm along the crest with my other hand.
“ See!”
Bobby was excited, all right, but not excited enough to feed Storm all by himself. I picked Bobby up, and with his hand helping my hand, we fed Storm together. After checking my watch, I handed the little guy to the missus and headed off to Summit.
The meeting was already under way. Daniel was wrapping up a talk on respecting each other and boundaries. He then introduced a friend of his from Yale, Bill Moses, to the group. Tall and thin like Daniel, though a bit on the scrawny side, Bill stood and waved to the distracted crowd. Sporting glasses, a mild pompadour and preppy, casual attire, Bill came across a shade geekier than Daniel—as if that were possible. Sheila followed, giving a rousing, yee-haw-punctuated spiel. These were but mere warm-ups for the main attraction: Elijah’s apology. Standing before his peers and staff, Elijah read from a handwritten letter.
“ I, Elijah Coleman, stand before y’all here, the A.O.S. community, that I have disrespected my classmates. For this, I am very deeply sorry. I came to Academy of the Sierras to lose weight. But what I have gained here is so much more than that. I have made friends here, friends that I love and will carry long after I am gone from this place. I said things that were wrong, and I hope that my actions from now on will speak louder than my words.”
From the looks of it, Elijah’s speech worked. Tearful hugs and high-fives greeted him as he joined his classmates and friends. As I scanned the room, I noticed Jimmy standing in
the shadows. I guess even he knew who was becoming the new poster child of A.O.S.
After a yummy, A.O.S.-sponsored meal of buffalo spaghetti—which even my finicky son enjoyed, we drove home. Snuggled in his car seat, Bobby fell fast asleep.
As we cruised towards Kingsburg, I thought of Elijah and his speech, about his meteoric rise in popularity—and his massive weight-loss. I only hoped he could continue his success as
Similar Books
