Read Online Something to Hold by Katherine Schlick Noe - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katherine Schlick Noe
Ads: Link
"That was quick. And where'd
she
come from?" Nobody seems to know.
When the lunch bell finally rings, I grab my jacket off the hook and hurry home. They're already talking about it when I come in the back door. At least, I think that's what "reassigned to Alaska" means.
Dad looks up from his sandwich. "Meet your new teacher?" he asks.
"YeahâMiss Anthony." He doesn't need to know how.
"Me too," says Joe. "We were in the hall this morning, and this
huge
lady stared so hard at Miss Tutwiler, she turned around and shushed us. We were just
walking!
"
"You're not supposed to make noise in the halls," I point out.
"Yeah, but nobody ever
says
so."
"Who is she?" I ask Dad.
"Miss Anthony arrived last week to help out up at the Baptist mission."
I can picture it:
New mission lady drives the church van, capturing little kids for Bible class.
I'll spare him the part about the Bible this morning. He'd have a fit that a teacher prayed in school.
Dad pushes back from the table and sets his plate on the counter. "Then a spot suddenly opened up at the school. Miss Anthony is a teacher, Pastor Leland said something about the greater good, and ... well..." He heads down the steps to the back door. "You already know the rest."
When I arrive at the playfield after lunch, there's a big knot of kids at the backstop. Baseball happens every day, even when the wind is biting, like today. But nobody's playing now. The kids are all standing with their heads down, and Miss Anthony is towering over them. The scene has Howie Granger written all over it.
"Where's the retarded boy?" she asks as I come up to the back of the crowd.
Nobody says anything. Her gaze sweeps onto Orin, who is closest. "I'm told he likes to play baseball. Is he part of the game?"
Orin glances at Raymond. Miss Anthony's eyes shift to him too. "Hmm?"
"No," Raymond says, looking past the fence.
"Why not?"
"Doesn't want to."
"I see," Miss Anthony says. "Any idea why that might be so?"
When Raymond doesn't respond, she snaps her fingers. "Lunch is over. Get back to your classrooms."
Miss Anthony turns and blasts the whistle as she waves the other kids in, her arm pointed toward the school. I glance around for Howie, but he is long gone. And it looks like Raymond got caught this time.
Back in the classroom, Miss Anthony doesn't seem to be in a hurry. She hangs the whistle on the hook by the door. She pushes the sleeves of her sweater up her forearms. She settles her glasses squarely on her nose and then stands in front of us, arms folded, and begins. "Who can tell me what happened out there?"
Instinct tells me it is better not to volunteer. I keep my eyes focused on the worn groove holding a pencil at the top of my scarred desk.
Miss Anthony walks slowly through the back rows. After three or four passes, she finally speaks from the back of the room. "Howie is one of the Lord's special creatures."
There she goes again, talking about God.
"We'll take a moment of silence now. Every one of you needs to search your heart and consider why you are so mean."
In the quiet, I think about Howie. He flaps his hands when he talks, and I can't always understand him. I know he can't help it, but he almost invites kids to pick on him. This is probably not what Miss Anthony expects me to be thinking about.
She strides to the front of the room to grab her Bible from the chalk tray. She stands in front of us and talks directly to Raymond. "When you are cruel, you only hurt yourself," she says. "And you
will
learn to spread compassion to others."
I wonder how she pegged Raymond as the tormentor so quickly.
"Please come up here." This is a command, not a request.
Surprised, Raymond stands up and slowly walks to the front of the room.
"Turn around and face the class," she says.
He obeys. Slowly.
Miss Anthony closes her eyes and moves her lips for a few seconds. Then she deftly flicks the hand that holds her Bible, and the book falls open.
"We'll begin with Proverbs eleven
she
come from?" Nobody seems to know.
When the lunch bell finally rings, I grab my jacket off the hook and hurry home. They're already talking about it when I come in the back door. At least, I think that's what "reassigned to Alaska" means.
Dad looks up from his sandwich. "Meet your new teacher?" he asks.
"YeahâMiss Anthony." He doesn't need to know how.
"Me too," says Joe. "We were in the hall this morning, and this
huge
lady stared so hard at Miss Tutwiler, she turned around and shushed us. We were just
walking!
"
"You're not supposed to make noise in the halls," I point out.
"Yeah, but nobody ever
says
so."
"Who is she?" I ask Dad.
"Miss Anthony arrived last week to help out up at the Baptist mission."
I can picture it:
New mission lady drives the church van, capturing little kids for Bible class.
I'll spare him the part about the Bible this morning. He'd have a fit that a teacher prayed in school.
Dad pushes back from the table and sets his plate on the counter. "Then a spot suddenly opened up at the school. Miss Anthony is a teacher, Pastor Leland said something about the greater good, and ... well..." He heads down the steps to the back door. "You already know the rest."
When I arrive at the playfield after lunch, there's a big knot of kids at the backstop. Baseball happens every day, even when the wind is biting, like today. But nobody's playing now. The kids are all standing with their heads down, and Miss Anthony is towering over them. The scene has Howie Granger written all over it.
"Where's the retarded boy?" she asks as I come up to the back of the crowd.
Nobody says anything. Her gaze sweeps onto Orin, who is closest. "I'm told he likes to play baseball. Is he part of the game?"
Orin glances at Raymond. Miss Anthony's eyes shift to him too. "Hmm?"
"No," Raymond says, looking past the fence.
"Why not?"
"Doesn't want to."
"I see," Miss Anthony says. "Any idea why that might be so?"
When Raymond doesn't respond, she snaps her fingers. "Lunch is over. Get back to your classrooms."
Miss Anthony turns and blasts the whistle as she waves the other kids in, her arm pointed toward the school. I glance around for Howie, but he is long gone. And it looks like Raymond got caught this time.
Back in the classroom, Miss Anthony doesn't seem to be in a hurry. She hangs the whistle on the hook by the door. She pushes the sleeves of her sweater up her forearms. She settles her glasses squarely on her nose and then stands in front of us, arms folded, and begins. "Who can tell me what happened out there?"
Instinct tells me it is better not to volunteer. I keep my eyes focused on the worn groove holding a pencil at the top of my scarred desk.
Miss Anthony walks slowly through the back rows. After three or four passes, she finally speaks from the back of the room. "Howie is one of the Lord's special creatures."
There she goes again, talking about God.
"We'll take a moment of silence now. Every one of you needs to search your heart and consider why you are so mean."
In the quiet, I think about Howie. He flaps his hands when he talks, and I can't always understand him. I know he can't help it, but he almost invites kids to pick on him. This is probably not what Miss Anthony expects me to be thinking about.
She strides to the front of the room to grab her Bible from the chalk tray. She stands in front of us and talks directly to Raymond. "When you are cruel, you only hurt yourself," she says. "And you
will
learn to spread compassion to others."
I wonder how she pegged Raymond as the tormentor so quickly.
"Please come up here." This is a command, not a request.
Surprised, Raymond stands up and slowly walks to the front of the room.
"Turn around and face the class," she says.
He obeys. Slowly.
Miss Anthony closes her eyes and moves her lips for a few seconds. Then she deftly flicks the hand that holds her Bible, and the book falls open.
"We'll begin with Proverbs eleven
Similar Books
