So now we’re down to the killing stage, something in his mind said. A hit melodramatic, no, Richie?
Miller and West aren’t my only problems. Rick thought, ignoring the other part of his mind. There’s Sullivan in my official class, and Marchetti in the seventh period and Harris in the eighth period. No, Miller and West aren’t all by a long shot. They just...
But what you said about killing? What about that?
Why don’t you take a walk? Rick thought. Go on, take a walk, Bud.
Are you afraid of these kids? They’re just kids, you know.
No, I’m not afraid of them.
What then?
Nothing. Who asked you, anyway?
You’re getting touchy, boy. The kids are making you touchy. I think you’re afraid of them.
I’m not afraid of them, damnit. I’m just trying to do a job. Can’t you see that?
Well, you’re not doing too well, boy. I’d say you’re not doing too well at all.
You’re an observant sonofabitch. Rick thought. Go take a walk.
He told Solly Klein and the assembled teachers about the wire recorder the next day. They sat around the wooden table in the lunchroom, with the exception of the man lying face down on the couch, and Rick related the incident, telling them about Miller’s part in it, and explaining the apparent innocence of Morales, who hadn’t known what happened from start to finish.
“That’s why I want an all-girls’ school,” Alan Manners said.
“I don’t get you,” Rick answered.
“You take this kid Morales. He uses fuck all over the place, and he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. If a girl uses that word, she knows damn well what she’s saying, and you can chalk up another roll in the hay.”
“It’s guys like you who get in trouble,” Solly Klein said. “I wouldn’t let my daughter come within ten feet of you.”
“What’s wrong with a normal sex urge?” Manners wanted to know.
“On you already,” Solly said, “it’s an urge beyond normal. It’s super-normal.”
Manners smiled shyly. “I’m just a red-blooded American boy,” he said.
“Then you should be happy here in the Forbidden City. You’re surrounded by a lot of red-blooded American boys.”
“I won’t be here long,” Manners said, nodding his head for emphasis. “Believe me.”
“Famous last words,” Savoldi said wisely.
“I’m pulling strings,” Manners told them. “I want to be surrounded by underprivileged eighteen-year-old girls. I can’t help it, it’s my calling.”
“They’ll be calling your name at Quentin,” George Katz said, munching on his sandwich. “Why’d you become a teacher, Manners? Why didn’t you get a job backstage at a burlesque house?”
“I’ll do that during the summer vacation,” Manners answered, smiling.
“He’s got all the angles figured,” Savoldi said. “Those are the guys who wonder later why they were there when the crap hit the fan.”
“Anyway,” Manners said, “there won’t be any kids like Morales in an all-girls’ school.”
“Or any troublemakers like Miller,” Rick added.
“No,” Solly said, wagging his head.
“No what?” Rick asked, chewing on his sandwich. Solly rose and walked to the windows, looking out, not facing Rick.
“You’re making a mistake, Dadier. You always make a mistake when you isolate one kid in the class as a troublemaker.”
“I don’t follow,” Rick said.
Solly cocked his head and seemed to meditate for a second, still staring through the window. “There’s no such thing as a single troublemaker in this school.”
“Solly’s going to philosophize again,” Lou Savoldi said sadly.
“In a dump like this,” Solly answered, “it’s only the philosopher who survives.”
“I’m no philosopher,” Savoldi said, his eyes sad over the steaming teacup he held close to his mouth.
“That’s why you haven’t survived. You’re just dead and too stupid to lay down.” Solly nodded his head in sour reflection and turned away from the window. “Look, Dadier, learn to accept these kids as a big rotten whole. Like an apple with worms in it. The apple is rotten to the core, and it’s the worms that make it rotten, but if you take out the worms you’re still left with the rotten apple. I know this kid Miller. I taught him last term. He’s a smart kid, Dadier, I’m telling you.”
“I know he is,” Rick said. “That’s what puzzles me. Why’s he doing all this? What’s he got against me?”
“You see,” Solly said, shaking his stubby forefinger, “there’s the mistake in your reasoning again. You think Miller has something against you personally. Forget it, ’cause he hasn’t.”
“But...”
“He gave me trouble, too. Look, every goddamn kid in that class will give you trouble. They take turns, that’s all. Today it’s Miller, tomorrow it’s some other bastard. You’re giving Miller too much credit.” Solly paused, searching for a clincher to his point. “Look, Dadier, in this school...”
“Miller’s got a high I.Q.,” Rick interrupted.
“For this school, maybe.”
“For any school,” Rick said. “What’s the average, something like a hundred?”
“More or less,” Solly said, shrugging. “So what’s Miller got? no, 120, 130 even? Who cares? Don’t you see, Dadier, that makes it worse. He stands out because he’s in with a pack of morons. The morons can give you a lot of trouble, but it’s the bright ones who become the leaders. That’s why...”
“You’re contradicting yourself,” Rick said.
“No,” Solly answered, “I am not. I’m just saying that these bright ones need an outlet for their leadership qualities. In a normal setup, those qualities would find normal outlets. But in this dump, there are no normal outlets. Does a kid become a leader here by kissing the teacher’s ass? Hell, no. He becomes a leader by making things rough for the teacher. That’s how he’s recognized. The bigger the bastard, the better the leader. But he hasn’t anything against you personally, believe me. He’d be insulted if you accused him of carrying a grudge, I mean it. You understand, Dadier?”
“I understand, but I can’t believe it. I’m sorry, but...”
“Solly’s right,” Savoldi said sadly. “You listen to him, Dadier. He knows.”
“They all stink,” Solly said emphatically. “You’ll learn that, Dadier. They all stink to high heaven. For you. Miller happens to stink the worst right now. For me, it’s a kid named Grandioso who stinks the worst. You start grading the stinks according to intensity and you’ll go nuts.”
“It’s tough on the nose,” Savoldi agreed.
“I think you’re too preoccupied with odors and aromas,” George Katz said in an attempt at wit. “That’s what’s wrong with you, Klein.”
“Solly is a professional smeller,” Savoldi said.
“In a girls’ school,” Manners said, “you get perfume. That’s what I want: perfume.”
“Yeah, perfume,” Savoldi said dolorously. “Some perfume.”
“I’m just trying to say that you’ve got to recognize these bastards as one big machine,” Solly persisted. “You start picking it apart and looking for individual cogs and wheels, and you get no place. The machine is labeled North Manual Trades High School. It’s manufactured in New York City, and it happens to have defective parts. It doesn’t do a damn thing right, and it wasn’t made to do anything in the first place. It just stands there and makes a hell of a lot of noise and it takes a hell of a lot of trained mechanics to keep it running. But it’s no goddamn good, and it never will be any good.”