On the first day back after an extended break there was this wonderful feeling
of returning to waxed floor surfaces, scrubbed chalk boards, painted exteriors (if
money had been found). After the summer vacation staffers could look forward to
new class assignments, the timid faces of the freshmen. Regardless of how long
they were out the John Wayne Cotter H.S. family, or those who considered
themselves family, would confess with a laugh they actually missed the old
school. They prayed no one had clipped the padlocks on their book cabinets while
they were away. It was nice, really nice, to be back.
There were stories to tell, or no stories to tell, about what happened over the
Christmas or the summer season: a plane hijack foiled on a trip to Spain; this
absolutely gorgeous man on the boat cruise to the Caribbean; a boring husband
who didn’t want to go anywhere; the rain in England; a wedding in California,
My daughter got married to this computer analyst.
There would be meetings, of course, and new program schedules, the faculty
assembly in the auditorium. Some teachers sported deep tans or beards that
made them barely recognizable; some showed signs of weight loss, sometimes
down to worrisome fat-free levels. There were jeans and sneakers, bright Polo
shirts and bright T-shirts with logos; huddles of laughter, smooched cheeks and
getouttaheres!
Bilicki was always happy to be back. He’d enter the building and rightaway his
adrenaline started racing. He’d touch base with the department, exchange
gossip with the department secretary (any new faces this year?) and any of the
old crew who came in. He’d wander down to the cafeteria where he encountered
other faces, more hellos, a touch on the arm, more pleasantries. The secretaries
teased him about his haircut; it made him look so much younger.
He had few stories to share since he didn’t care much for travelling, at least not
to vacation hot spots overseas. He looked forward to his class of new seniors
taking notes, asking questions or staring out the window. Everyone needed to
recharge the batteries, scrape off the dross and accretions of the previous
semester. He’d be the first to admit that despite its problems and frustrations it
was good to be back in the Bronx to John Wayne Cotter.
Reality began to set in at the faculty assembly in the auditorium. Still loose
and relaxed, staffers toned down their chatter; there was an attentive hush as
the principal began her welcome back address. The hush deepened into silence.
Bilicki was always prepared for this. He settled down, slouching a little, in the
middle of the auditorium so no one would have to squeeze past his legs for a
seat; and he opened his Times and got ready to immerse himself in the pages. He
looked around for his co-conspirators, Radix and Mahmood. Bits and pieces from
the podium floated past his head, sometimes making contact, as far away he
switched to a fresh caption or headline on the page.
“Good to see everyone back…healthy and reinvigorated faces…what promises to
be an exciting year… the challenge before us…happy to announce two of our
colleagues got married over the summer… from the Science Department retired
and was last seen bike-riding somewhere in Florida… the years go by so quickly
… back from sabbatical and pregnancy… gave birth to a bouncing baby boy,
we’re all excited at the news… now I’d like to introduce new members of our
faculty…our mission for the new year continues …That was the good news, now
for the Not so good news… Reading scores remain below acceptable levels…cause
for concern…budget cuts…We have no room to put all these kids…bursting at the
seams… Those of you who wish to continue receiving the NY Times… mailboxes
should be checked daily…exciting possibilities for the new year.”
(from "Ah, Mikhail, O Fidel!" a novel by N.D.Williams, 2001)
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FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 