Tales from the 13th “If You’re So Smart, Why Are You Failing” (Where Bruises Go)

 Eric wasn’t a stupid kid, not by a long shot. He was tying his shoes and reciting the alphabet, both in English and in Sign Language, by the time he was four. There were several times when he became bored in class, as he had already learned what was happening in kindergarten. His teacher, Mrs. Harris, was a proud black woman, and it was the late 70s. One thing she didn’t like was the smart-ass white kid who shouldn’t have been in her class to begin with. However, he couldn’t skip a grade; he had to complete the curriculum. All this came to a head on a fateful day, when she brought in albums by various black artists. She had Earth, Wind, and Fire, Stevie Wonder, and Isaac Hayes, to name a few.

Then it came time to present them to the class. She showed them to the class, mostly white and Hispanic kids, who they were. None of the kids knew who they were. Then she went to Isaac Hayes and asked if they knew who he was. Right away, Eric raised his hand enthusiastically. He knew that answer better than anyone. Seeing that he was the only one with his hand raised, she asked him who it was. Proudly, he confessed that it was his Uncle Jimmy. Irritated, she informed him that it wasn’t his Uncle Jimmy, but rather Isaac Hayes. At that time, he didn’t know who that was, so he corrected her and said it wasn’t, but rather his Uncle Jimmy. Telling him that that couldn’t be possible, he continued to argue with her that it was. This made her call Deanna, so they would discuss it and get the kid into trouble.

His mother came, and Mrs. Harris showed her the Isaac Hayes record and told her that he had to continue arguing with her that it was his Uncle Jimmy. That he was a disrespectful child, and that Deanna had to do something about it. His mother, for a change, stepped up and defended her son. She told her that her uncle Jimmy did look a lot like Isaac Hayes. From the beard, the glasses, and the knit hat he wore, he was the spitting image of the famous singer. Then Mrs. Harris had to ask the worst possible question. Especially to a sarcastic woman like Eric’s mother. Dumbfounded, the teacher asked, “How was that possible?” Without missing a beat, the mother responded that Uncle Jimmy was the black sheep of the family.

This pissed the teacher off a great deal, but she didn’t confront the mother for her comment; she would take it out on Eric. When he came in the next day and during recess, his name was put on the board with three check marks. That signaled that he was in trouble and not allowed to play with the other kids. Instead, he was to sit at the table for the twenty-minute break and do nothing. Sure, he could watch the other kids having fun, but he wasn’t allowed. He was given a two-week detention as a result of that comment. He didn’t even make it, but had to serve out the sentencing, nevertheless. From that point on, anything he did wrong was immediately noted on the board, along with three checks next to it.

There was one time, the only black boy in the class, Courtney, was jumping up and down on the plastic blocks. These were big enough for a kid(s) to sit in and crawl through. That day, Eric was sitting at the bottom, and Courtney was jumping. He crashed through, busting Cafferty’s nose and giving him a nosebleed. She had seen what was going on, but didn’t stop it. Instead, when it was over, she ordered Eric to go to the bathroom and stop the bleeding from his nose. When he came out, with it finally stopped, his name was on the board with three check marks; Courtney’s wasn’t. As a result, he protested the outcome. It wasn’t fair, and that didn’t matter to the teacher. She told him that if he didn’t shut up, she’d call his mother. He stopped as he didn’t want a whipping from both her and his father.

Then, at the end of the school year, he and his family moved in with his grandmother, Thelma. He could have gone back to public school, but he wanted to go to his mother’s alma mater. St. Thomas’ Church was not unfamiliar to him; he would always go with his grandmother to the five o’clock Mass on Saturday, which was essentially a Sunday Service. It was because the school was only three buildings away that he could roll out of bed and head to class. This request meant that Eric’s father had to pay a nice portion of his salary to the private school. The money they would have saved by not paying rent was used directly by the school.

First grade was alright; his only problem was spelling, and he wouldn’t shut up. He was a chatterbox. Mrs. Hudson had to separate him from the rest of the class because he would talk, and talk. He even got caught one day when they threatened to call his mother, because he was trying to trade his pink crayon with a girl for her black one. The one thing about him was that while the other kids were talking about who was cuter, Ginger or Mary Ann, he was torn between Lily Munster and Morticia Addams. He was a mini goth who loved dark and spooky things. He got in trouble for not following directions for making owls for Halloween. Every kid was trying to get brown construction paper, except for him. He went for black and purple.

It was supposed to be a spelling assignment, and instead of making an owl, he made his into a bat with a purple belly. The teacher failed him on the assignment because he did not follow directions. Even the math teacher gave him bad marks for being different. They were to make a Pilgrim and put it in the middle of their math assignment. He did as he was instructed, but he wanted it to be different. Since the teacher wore glasses, he was marked off for being “Historically incorrect.” She took it as a joke, which was far from the truth.

Then he got to second grade. He started the year in Group 1, which consisted of kids who received As and Bs, while Group 2 required more help. Mrs. Dixon had no problem with him until the first Parent/Teacher conference. That was when the teacher discovered that Deanna was his mother and still harbored a deep resentment for the woman. Mrs. Dixon was also the second-grade teacher his mother had. The next day, two things happened. His desk was moved behind the teachers, ostracizing him from the class, and he was demoted to Group 2. He took this as a huge insult.

That and his parents wouldn’t help him with his homework, he started slipping. He was offended and bored by the teacher. The only thing that he aced was when they covered the dinosaurs, as that was his favorite subject at the time. Dixon even made a bet with them that none of the kids could rhyme the word “pumpkin". The thing was, Eric did a lot of reading by record. He loved listening to the story while reading along, as it made him feel less lonely. It was in one of his books, Robin Hood to be precise, that he found the word he was working for, bumpkin. He told her about it the next day, and even though it was fitting, as it meant an awkward, unsophisticated person, she told him that he was making up words and gave him detention. With treatment like that, who cared if he got good grades when he was trouble for them anyway?

At home, they didn’t help. He was to sit at the dining room table and was left to figure it out on his own. Eric Sr. would watch television until 8:30 and go to bed. If the light were still on at nine, he would receive a whipping. Then there were the times he would receive a smack on the back of the head, only to be asked if he was stupid. This didn’t help build his confidence. Deanna was no better, as all she did was lie on the couch, either watching television or reading her romance novels. The principal, Sister Arlene Gibbons, called for a meeting with his parents one day in the third grade. She asked him why his grades were so low and why he was missing assignments. The latter was due to his working on other ones and not knowing what to do. He would spend a long time on one, mostly math, and fail to do the other homework.

When he told her the truth—that his parents were busy watching television or reading- they became livid with him. She asked if this was true, and they requested a moment alone with the child. They told him he had better tell her something else, or he’d “Get it” when he got home. Seeing that he didn’t want to be spanked, or worse, what his mother did as discipline, he lied to the principal. He admitted that he had lied and that his parents had helped him. He was just lazy. Sister Arlene would remember that he buckled and would use it against him to make him admit to a crime he wasn’t even guilty of, having been absent from school at the time. He just wanted her to stop yelling at him.

Sadly, when he got home, both Deanna and Eric Sr. were waiting for him. He was dragged into the bedroom and whipped good and hard. He would never make that mistake again. That night, as they agreed to sign his assignment notebook, he thought that he would get some assistance. Young and stupid, he received nothing from them. It was as if the meeting hadn’t even happened. The only change was that the teachers now had to sign off to confirm he had written the assignment correctly, and his parents would sign off to verify it was completed. There was no assistance in improving; he just had to finish it incorrectly and accept the consequences on his grades. This was another nail against him.

The bane of his existence, as he knew, was the Parent-Teacher night. Yes, he was turning in the assignments, but they were incorrect. So, they would get the report that his grades were below mediocre, which led to more beatings. Instead of evaluating what they could do to help him, they whipped him. And further down the rabbit hole he would go. His grades would suffer, and so would his body. What they were installing in him was a fear and loathing of school. Some weeks, he’d be lucky if he didn’t get punished once or twice. There was even one night that Eric Sr lied to him. Saying that their next-door neighbor was talking to him and told him about his son’s failing grades.

That night, he was going to change things up completely. He wasn't just going to spank Eric; he was going to bare-ass spank him. Trembling, the son knew this was going to hurt worse than it would with pants on. It took him several minutes of arguing and pleading with him not to do it before the child went over to him. Dropping his pants, he hauled off and struck the boy. There were two queen beds upstairs at the time. And one was between the bed he was struck on, and the door leading out. As soon as that first lash came, the small boy jumped over the queen-sized bed, not touching it once as he flew over it. He cleared that bed like there was no tomorrow. Getting to the door, expecting mercy, there wasn’t any. His father walked over, grabbed him, threw him on the bed, and like every other time, put his knee behind the kid’s head. The lashes came, and the welts formed.

He had harbored resentment towards the neighbor for years, until he realized she didn’t talk to him. She was in the same grade as him, but he was not in the same class. The next morning, his bottom was still tender, and his grandmother noticed him flinching. She asked what was wrong, and he told her. She checked and saw that the marks of the belt were still on his backside. Later that night, because she confronted the father, in response to telling him what he’d done, he spanked him again. The rule between him and Deanna was that what happened in the family stayed in the family. This was a nice way of saying that the abuse stayed between the three of them, and no one was to know about it.

This would continue into the fourth and fifth grades. His grades were mediocre enough to pass him by, by some miracle. He was always in trouble and was spanked or received the Deanna treatment. She wasn’t like Eric Sr. While he focused on the buttocks, anything that wasn’t visible was game for her. Legs, back, chest, this was just an open canvas for her abuse. And naturally, after she was done, and the father came home, he would get another beating so that he would be punished. Deanna would say “I love you” to him, but there was no love. There wasn’t an ounce of kindness.

She claimed that she treated both Denny and him the same, but that was further from the truth. She would buy presents for both boys, that was true, but they were never equally the same. On Denny’s birthday, he’d receive expensive items, while Eric got something cheap. When it came time for the birthdays to switch, the younger brother would receive a costly toy, while the elder brother would get the cheaper one. She would always help Denny with his homework, and at times, she would even do it for him. Eric would come home proud of an A, and she would have a headache, but she wouldn’t care. Denny would go home an hour after him, show the grade she helped him get, and the two would go out for ice cream. It was far from fair.