Also, if you read chapter 5, I added five paragraphs to the end of it. So you may want to just check to see if you read the updated version before you read chapter 6. I appoligize for the confussion. I'll try not to do that to you again. http://paulblais.blogspot.com/2011/11/broken-windows-chapter-5.html
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There was this one
dude that I kind of knew since I was in grade school. Fact is we were in like
the same class every other year or something like that. He showed up in second
grade after his mom moved into town. I think she was on the run from her
husband that was probably hitting her or something. Verge never talked about it
much, except for just a few times. Turns out that his mom ended up shacking up
with another guy that must have been just as bad. Man, I could tell you stories
about that guy.
Anyhow, Verge just
showed up half way through the school year right after Christmas break. He
ended up sitting behind me one row over to the left, closer to the door.
What a
funky name for a kid to have. It wasn’t really Verge- fact is nobody called him
by his real name except for maybe his mom when she wasn’t really happy with
him. Now that I think about it, she was always called him Virgil.
So, on the first day
that Verge shows up in class, the teacher brought him to the front of the class
to introduce him and put him on the spot and all. Why do teachers do that? I
mean, take a total newbie and stand him up in front of everybody and introduce
him like that. That’s the last thing he wants is to have everybody staring at
him like he is some sort of freak or something. My dad always used to talk
about this crazy study that was done about what were the top ten things that
people were scarred of. He would say that the number two fear was dying. Then
he would ask someone that was new to the story, “What do you think the number
one thing people are scarred of?” Then, after what he would call a “pregnant
pause”, he would say, “Speaking in front of a group of people!” Then without
skipping a beat he would go on to say, “In other words, people would rather
die, than talk in front of a crowd.”
I always rolled my
eyes when I heard that one coming, but his audience would always laugh. He was
always saying stuff like that. But stink, it’s true! And that’s exactly what
every stupid teacher does to every new kid that shows up half way through a school
year right after Christmas break. She makes him stand there and introduce
himself, or say something about himself, or say where he is from, or give some
kind of report on life in Africa, or something stupid like that.
And that’s what the
teacher does to Verge the first day he shows up in class. I don’t think she
even talked to him before class. She must have had some note from the principal
or something like that on her desk saying she was getting a new student or
something.
So she gets up in
front of class and says that we have a new student in class and calls him to
the front of the class to stand with her. After he timidly climbs out of the
safety of his desk, he drags his feet to the front of the class and then, while
the teacher is looking at a piece of paper, she says, “Class, this is Virgil
Hamperray.”
I tell you what,
I’ll never forget the look on his face as it went three colors of red which set
off his freckles like nobody’s business.
“It’s Verge.” His
head was kind of hung low as he glowered out from under his mop of red hair at
everyone in the classroom. It was too late though. The damage had already been
done. A laugh went up from the class when they saw that his name bugged him.
“Now, now, class,”
the teacher says. “Simmer down. This is not how you make someone feel welcome
on his first day. Let’s be kind.”
We slowly stopped
the snickering as we took a better look at Virgil. His clothes were clean, but
were showing signs of prolonged use. His pants were starting to play peek-a-boo
with his ankles, and his shoes were starting to bulge like some fish net that’s
bursting with too large a catch.
“Tell us where you
are from, Verge.”
He didn’t say a word
for a moment. “Verge,” prompted the teacher, “do you want to tell us where you
are from?”
He mumbled something
that only the teacher could hear, so she repeated it for the rest of the class.
“Oh, you’re from Florida. Well, by coming to Vancouver you’ve moved about as
far away from Florida as you can get?” She sounded all pleased with herself as
if she had just showed us all how important it is to know geography or
something stupid like that. She even stepped over to the map of the U.S. and
pointed where Florida was. Why do teachers always try to teach you geography
when they are introducing some newbie? Stink.
So that’s the first
time I ever saw Verge. Then every other year or so we were in a class together,
but we never really got to being friends or anything like that. He kind of hung
out with his little crowd of friends and I hung with my little crowd. I mean we
knew each other by name and all, but we just didn’t hang much together.
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