Friday, August 28, 2009

The dorm paradox.

By Robert Kingett

Week one.

I get there on Sunday evening, and nothing interesting happens that day except for Mrs. Nannette tells us the rules and regulations. After that we all can kind of hang out and do what ever until bed time

The next day, which by the way is Monday, I get into English class to see someone sitting in the front seat. I don’t want to be picky, but that's been my seat for three years. It's kind of grown on me. In a way it's kind of like a “lucky flower” though in a more literal sense. It's a black kid, and he has sun glasses on his head. From the way he's looking at me as he comes in, I can tell that he can see me, and can see me quite clearly. I walk in, plop my bag on the floor next to my desk and take a seat.

“Greetings and salutations!” I just sit there and blink for a few seconds before stammering a quick

“hello.” He's still looking at me like I'm an interesting bug on a microscope.

“I'm nick.” He says stretching out a hand. “It’s such a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” I have to stare at him to see if I'm not hallucinating or something. Usually the kind of greetings I get at the Florida School for the Deaf and the Blind are “yo.” “wut up!” and “nerd.”

“Yours as well. It's such a benevolent day outside isn’t it?” instead of hearing a what? I hear

“Yes, it's quite munificent.” All I can do again is just sit and stare. He's doing the same to me, and I'm sure I'm creeping him out as much as he is me. I start to feel uncomfortable when he suddenly asks

“What’s your leisure pursuit?”

“Um… well, I'm a bibliophile, so I”

“Like to read, I know what the word means.” He didn't snap at me, thank god. He in fact sounded like he was excited. It was almost as if I had just told him a new chemical mix to cure cancer. The guy looks like he's African. His huge eyes are staring at me again, and his sun glasses are resting on his nearly balled head. The guy has a crew cut about him. Judging by how tall he is just sitting down, I'm guessing he's six foot or something.

“Oh. Okay. So what's your fad you like to partake in?” he grins as he proudly explains

“I'm interested in prose as well.”

“So you like to read? That's cool.” He looks shocked then seems to blush, that is if he had white skin. His voice is so nerdy though. It's a mix of high pitched and nasally, but it's not girly high pitched. It's a little up there but not high on the twin towers.”

“Well, my name's Robert Kingett and…”

“Oh my god!” he blurts out as kids slink past us chattering. “you’re the great…” he says great like 6 other times” grandson of the king James Kingett who was married to Sara melamine in the mid 180’s! Your heinous it's such a pleasure to meet you!” before I can do anything he stands up. I was right by the way he is six foot, and bows to me low, and professionally. Literally all the kids stop and look. All of us can see in here except for like two people in the class.

“You’re highness, it's an honor! Here you go, have this chair!” he shoves a chair under me, and then starts to fix my messed up hair.

“Um… what the heck is going on?” a kid asks me.

“He’s got a slave…” someone else blurts out. I feel so weird just sitting here having people stare at me, so I calmly say “nick. Can you please stop?” he immediately stammers and gushes “I'm so sorry you’re highness, is there anything else you desire?”

“Don’t treat me like that again.” He again bows way low and he stays that way for some time. He doesn't know he's blocking traffic, and he doesn't know I want to die.

“Nick…. You’re in the way.”

“I am so honored to be...”

“Move before I punch you!” Ciara carter shouts. I slowly sit down in my seat again and put my face in my palms. I want to die, and there's something that's worse… I can feel every eye on me, totally blind or not. I'm just about to tell my slave to stop existing, when Mrs. Chancy clears her scratchy throat. She is a smoker, and definitely sounds like it.

“Okay class, let’s settle down, right? Okay. Before we start I just want to say congratulations to the two people in this room who are taking honors English, hmm right? Okay yep, hurray!” she's the only one clapping.

“What the heck?” all the other kids say at the same time. “Two people?”

“Why yes of course! Right? Okay. Yes, um, nick and Robert, will you kind of stand up here for just one minute. Okay?” we both do. I come up to his stomach almost, or his lower chest area. The guy’s arms stretch down to my knees. He's staring at me. I'm guessing he's shocked because he's never had someone be in the honors program with him before. My thoughts are confirmed when he blurts out you two?

“nah. I just like to pretend.” Either he doesn't get the sarcasm, or he completely ignores it.

“I'm with someone?”

“No. I'm a ghost.”

“Okay guys. These two will be taking honors English. Robert Kingett…” everyone gives a small clap when they hear my name. I'm not liked there, but I am respected. I think the reason is I don’t shove knowledge down people’s throats.

“and Nick deglamire.” As if on queue I hear shoes bouncing beside me on my blind side. I look and a coal Black Hand is up in the air.

“Mrs. Chancy, did you know that the word honor, also known as deference, came from the Latin phrase….” I don’t remember what he says after that, but he's correct.

“Um… yes nick that's correct?” by this point I don't know if I should just sit down or tell him to shut up. He's still going on about the origins of words and such. I'm actually typing this standing up, and she's thinking I'm taking notes.

After we sit down nick immediately turns and stares at me some more as I draw out a book called holes.

“Did you know that the author actually didn't want to become a writer? Do you want to write?”

“I do.” I say.

“Oh yes nick. Robert is a great writer. His poems are excellent and his essays are quite comical. Okay? Mm, right.” Mrs. Chancey says.

“Did you know that people used to call writers scribes? That was after the depression.” I don’t want to even point out how random that was, so I just sit down again.

We start to talk about British authors now, and we are supposed to tell Mrs. Chancy some British authors, nick spits them out like machine guns before I can even raise a hand.

“And j rTolkien wrote lord of the rings trilogy, since it is after all three books, unless you count the hobbit which was actually written before the fellowship. 45 years to be precise…” damn. All I wanted to say was J Are Tolkien.

“But let’s not forget…” Mr. Brain continues… “About c s Lewis and the most famous one j k Rowling.”

“And Anthony harowits is the most recent.” I say determined to get a damn word in edge wise.

“He’s the acclaimed author of what's known in the United States as the Alex Ryder series…” nick jumps in.

“And he also…” I start to say, but again I'm interrupted.

“Did the gatekeepers, or the power of five trilogies publishing those books, by the way, in the 200’s.” I think I should just go mute. I honestly should. I am noticing that he's not spewing out intellectual thoughts. He's just spewing out facts. Does that mean he's not truly intelligent after all?

The whole week goes by like this, and I can't wait until we get to reading something. I want to see Mr. Brain try and figure out a symbol in a book. I don’t think he can, so I'm okay there. He wants to become a lawyer. he told me this after he exclaimed “you have a nice face!” to which I stop and just sit and stare. Weird. I don’t think he's gay though. At the end of class, nick comes out holding a piece of paper. I catch the huge title, and I almost scream. It's my crying poem. I shouldn’t have left it there on my desk. Shit! When he's all done he looks at me, and I snatch the poem away giving him the hardest look anyone has ever received.

“Wow….” Is all he says.

“Wow what?” I snap. “Go on. Say something.” He shocks me by saying “its good fiction. Short.” So he has no clue still. He thinks it's all fake... He probably literally lives in a bubble so this doesn't shock me.

“Yeah… you can say that.”

“Hey…. Look…. I'm honored to be in the same class with you. You don't have a mind as huge as I, but it's precocious.”

“Thanks?” I don't know what to say, so I start to turn to leave.

“Do you want to be friends, or do you want to battle each other?” I stop and look back at him. He stands so tall above me it looks like he's a dark tower. The truth is, honestly, I don't know.

“I'm not sure nick. I thank you again, but I just don’t like arrogance. People who are arrogant are drowning in their own egos. You know?” he nods. “So…. Can I get back to you on that one?”

“Of course. Have a nice day.”

“You too.” He walks off, and so do I, tapping my cane. He's suddenly at my side again.

“We would be an awesome pair! Besides, no point in wasting a time of learning outsmarting one another, right? Knowledge should be a team.”

“There’s a difference between intellect and fact memorization.”

“No there's not.”

“In your eyes. Look. Let me think about it okay?” I place my hand on his elbow, since that's the only place I can reach. “I don’t like arrogance.”

“I just like knowledge, and people who have it or like learning new things shouldn’t be fighting, intellectual or otherwise.” He does have a point, but I don’t want to let him know he does.

“We’ll see.” I turn and walk away.

“You, with your mind, can surely see I'm right.” I could see, but I didn't want to let him see. That's why, as I walked away, I had my head down, and my thoughts pad locked behind a door where no one, not even the genius can see…

End of day one.

To be continued…