“What’s the matter with you two?” he asked.
One of the boys was a husky Negro with an engaging grin. He had a wide nose, and thin lips, and clear, large brown eyes. He wore a white tee shirt and tight dungarees, and the rich brown of his skin glistened against the white of his shirt.
“We ony just got here, Chief,” he said.
“Well, you can only just get right out of here,” Rick mimicked.
The boy with the Negro was obviously Puerto Rican. He grinned and a gold-capped tooth in the front of his mouth gleamed.
“Sure,” he said, “we jus’ get here, Chief.”
“Look,” Rick told them, “I don’t want a debate. Let’s clear out.”
The Negro boy continued to grin engagingly, continued to lean against the sink. “Can’ a man take a leak, Chief?”
“Take it and get out,” Rick said.
“Sure, Chief,” the Negro boy answered, still grinning pleasantly. “You goan to watch me leak, man?”
“Listen,” Rick said, “I don’t go for wise guys. If you came here for trouble, you’ll get it. If you came to urinate, do it fast and then get out.”
“He come to ur-ee-nate,” the Puerto Rican said, smiling.
Rick turned on the thin Puerto Rican. “What’s your name?” he asked.
The boy blanched. His eyes got suddenly frightened, and he said, “Me?”
“Yes you. What’s your name?”
“Emmanuel,” he said.
“Emmanuel what?”
“Emmanuel Trades,” the Negro boy said. “Man, don’choo know? This boy yere, he got the school named after him.” Again he grinned engagingly, and Rick turned on him furiously.
“What’s your name, wise guy?”
The boy lifted one eyebrow, and he continued to slouch against the sink. “Gregory,” he said, defiantly. “Gregory Miller.”
“I’ll remember that name,” Rick said.
“Sure, Chief. You do that.”
“Or maybe you’d like to take a walk to the principal’s office right this minute? Maybe you’d like that?”
Miller shrugged, and then smiled, showing those brilliant white teeth. He was a good-looking boy, with the build of a weight lifter, and an easy, nonchalant charm. “You holin’ all the cards, Chief,” he said. “You wanna take me t’see Mistuh Small, that’s your choice.”
Rick reconsidered. Hell, there was no sense getting a boy into trouble on the first day of school. “Well,” he said slowly, “I’ll let it pass this time. Just get back to your classroom.”
“This’s my lunch hour, Chief,” Miller said.
“Knock off that ’Chief’ routine,” Rick said. “If it’s your lunch hour, what are you doing in the building?”
“Had to take a leak, man, like I tole you.”
“Well then take it.”
“Sure, Chief. Thass what I been dyin’ to do all this time now.”
Miller stepped over to one of the urinals, and the Puerto Rican boy followed him like a shadow. Rick turned away while they urinated, and then Miller, buttoning his fly, said, “Okay for us to drift now, Chief?”
“If you’re on your lunch hour, you’re supposed to leave the building by the exit near the auditorium. Isn’t that right?”
“Yessir.”
“Then head down that way. And don’t let me catch you in this toilet again.”
Miller smiled. “Suppose I got to crap, man?”
“That’s different,” Rick said instantly.
“I figured,” Miller answered, smiling.
“All right, take off.”
“Sure thing,” Miller said. He walked to the door with the Puerto Rican behind him, and Rick followed them both into the corridor. He watched them walk slowly and naturally down the corridor, and then turn left into the long side of the L. When they were out of sight, he turned to find the fat boy with his chair.
He took the chair, placed it against the wall, and said, “Thanks a lot.” The fat boy nodded, and then took his place on one side of the doors. Rick sat, unzipped his briefcase, and took out the Delaney book, hoping to arrange the cards in it for his official class. He was reaching for the Delaney cards when the outside doors were thrown open, and he heard several voices floating up the marble steps and approaching the inside doors. He got to his feet as three boys came through the inside doors, still talking and laughing. They spotted Rick and stopped, seemingly deciding whether to stick it out or run back toward the outside doors again.
“What’s this?” Rick asked sternly.
The boy standing in the center of the trio, obviously the leader and spokesman of the group, opened his eyes innocently and asked, “What’s what, teach?”
“Where are you boys coming from?”
“Outside, teach.”
“You’re not supposed to enter the building through this entrance,” Rick said sternly.
“Oh no?” the boy asked, surprised.
“No,” Rick said.
“We was just havin’ lunch,” the boy answered.
“Well clear out and go around to the auditorium entrance, the way you’re supposed to.”
“Sure, teach,” the boy said. He smiled and made a slight movement with his head, which the other boys instantly obeyed. Together, the three went down the marble steps and out of the building.
“How’d they get in?” Rick asked the fat monitor.
“Through the doors, I guess,” the boy answered.
“I know, but aren’t the doors locked?”
“Gee, I guess not.”
“Go down and lock them, would you? Just pull them tight against the door jamb.”
The fat boy hesitated. Then he said, “I can’t, Mr. Dadier. The locks are busted.”
“What do you mean busted?”
“On all of the doors. That’s how the kids get in.”
“How long have they been broken?” Rick asked.
“Long as I can remember,” the fat boy answered.
“Mmm,” Rick said, making a mental note to tell the custodian about the broken locks. “We’ll just have to be careful then, that’s all.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rick sat down again and began slipping the Delaney cards into their slots in the Delaney book. Two boys sauntered down the corridor, passed him quietly, and went into the toilet. When he finished inserting the cards into the book, he sat back and relaxed, and then realized the boys had still not come out of the toilet. He rose and walked to the wooden door, pulling it open.
The two boys, as he’d suspected, were standing near the windows, smoking. He bawled them out heartily, sent them back to their classroom, and then went out into the corridor again. He was seated for about thirty seconds, when the outside doors flew open and a swarm of kids started up the marble steps. He dispatched them quickly, sat down for a full minute, and then rose again when a new gang started up the steps. By the time he’d sent them around to the auditorium entrance, the toilet had gathered five loiterers and smokers, and Rick flushed them out angrily, giving them all warnings. He didn’t get a chance to sit down again because the third period was almost over, and the outside doors were opening and closing with rapid regularity now as the kids began returning in force to the building.
When the bell announcing the end of the period finally rang. Rick was exhausted. He promised himself he’d have to figure out a way to cope with those broken locks. Perhaps post one of the monitors outside the building to steer away any kids who tried to use those doors. He’d also have to do something about the smoking in that toilet. Maybe he’d ask some of the other teachers. He reached into his briefcase and consulted the program he’d Scotch-taped to the inside of his small black notebook.
Fourth period: lunch.
Allah be praised.