Story 555: Flashback Back to School

             (On a park trail, Friend 1 and Friend 2 navigate carefully over the uneven terrain)

Friend 2: (Gingerly stepping down a highlands hill) I can’t believe I let you talk me into taking the difficult trail this time.

Friend 1: (Holding onto a tree trunk for the descent) C’mon, you can’t stay on the easy-to-moderate trails all your life, you’ve gotta branch out a little – ow!  (Stubs foot on an exposed tree root and nearly falls off the mini-mountain)

Tree 1: <Heh-heh: got another one>

Tree 2: <Sweet> (The two trees’ branches slap each other in triumph)

Friend 2: (Helping Friend 1 regain footing) Still, this is the most exercise I get in a week, so I suppose I should be grateful.

Friend 1: You’re welcome.  (The ground levels out slightly and they continue onward with minimal interruption)

Friend 2: And it’s great coming here after Labor Day, with no more summer state park fees, summer crowds, or summer weather.

Friend 1: But it’s still summer.

Friend 2: Yeah, technically, but you know as soon as Labor Day hits, fun time’s over.

Friend 1: (Takes a swig from a water bottle) Ugh, don’t remind me: I hate this time of year.

Friend 2: Well, sure, I know you love beaches and boardwalks and any excuse to have funnel cake, but you gotta admit that the cooling weather, changing leaves, and absence of shore traffic are definitely perks.

Friend 1: Oh, no doubt; I won’t argue with any of that.

Friend 2: Then what is it?

Friend 1: (Stops walking, stares at an osprey landing on a nesting pole in the distance, and sighs; through gritted teeth) Back.  To.  School.

Friend 2: (Also having stopped walking) You… haven’t gone back to school in over 20 years.

Friend 1: I know.  But the 17 I did during my formative era have been seared into my brain and will never leave, at least until the inevitable dementia’s in full force.  No, scratch that: with my luck, those’ll be the only memories I’ll have at that point.

Friend 2: (As they both start walking again) All right, going back to school after summer break was sad and annoying, but it wasn’t that bad.  We got to see all our friends again.

Friend 1: I saw them in just the right amounts during break, I-thank-you.

Friend 2: Some of the work was interesting.

Friend 1: To you, maybe: I was a terrible student and didn’t need a yearly reminder.

Friend 2: (Winces slightly) …You liked Band!  And Drama Club, don’t forget that!

Friend 1: (Chuckles) True, true.  I miss those geeks; made me feel superior to the nerds in Chess Club.

Friend 2: What about the athletes?

Friend 1: Don’t talk to me about those dorks!

Friend 2: (Defensively) Hey, I was on the basketball team for three years in high school!

Friend 1: Oh right.  Well, you were OK.

Friend 2: (Shakes head in exasperation) Whatever – point is, for us, school was all right and not the faux-traumatic experience you’re acting like it was.

Friend 1: I’m not saying it was; I’m just saying I hate Back to School.  Every year, all the anxiety and pressure come flooding back in like they never left.

Friend 2: Oh, well, then just… don’t think about it, I guess.

Friend 1: I have yet to hear an instance where that suggestion has ever worked for anything.

(That night, Friend 1 lies in bed, staring at a digital clock on the lamp table)

Friend 1: Mm-hm: at this time 20+ years ago, I was dreading the first day of high school… first day of middle school… (Starts drifting to sleep) elementary school… kindergarten… pre… schooooooolllll….

THE DREAM

(In a never-ending hallway filled with students, Friend 1 stands in the exact center, dressed like a 1990s teenager but still with a 2020s face, carrying a backpack and holding several textbooks with paper bag covers in one arm and an illegible class schedule in the other hand)

Friend 1: (Looking around frantically through the streams of passing students, gigantic lockers, and infinite closed doors as many bells constantly ring) Where’s my classroom?!  WHERE’S MY CLASSROOM????!!!!

(Suddenly seated in the very front row of a classroom, Friend 1 strains to read what is written on the overwhelming chalkboard)

Friend 1: (Squinting) Three times – Brontë, who – apartheid, when – igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic rocks, that – mi chiamo, che – differential equations?!

Teacher: (Standing at the front of the classroom, head almost touching the ceiling and growing every second) Now class, please turn in your reports on the entire science textbook that were due today.

Friend 1: (As all the other students hold out packets of neatly typed reports with perfectly formatted cover sheets) But – but – today is the first day of school – ?

Teacher: (Leans down from the heights to get in Friend 1’s face) THIS WAS YOUR SUMMER READING PROJECT!  YOU HAD MORE THAN TWO MONTHS TO COMPLETE IT!

Friend 1: But – but – a report on a science textbook?

Teacher: THE ENTIRE BOOK!

Friend 1: But – but – I don’t have it –

Teacher: YOU’D BETTER HAVE IT BY TOMORROW OR YOU’LL REPEAT THIS GRADE BEFORE YOU EVEN STARTED IT!  (Straightens up and addresses the rest of the room) Now class, let’s begin our study of the American, English, and Russian Civil Wars by simultaneously proving Fermat’s Last Theorem and translating the Constitution of France into Middle English, backwards –

(Friend 1’s eyes snap open as a buzzing cell phone nearly falls off the lamp table)

Friend 1: (Answering the phone) Hellllllllooooooo????

Friend 2: (On a cell phone at an office desk) You sound awful – everything OK?

Friend 1: It is now; what’s up?

Friend 2: Well, I was gonna leave a message just checking on whether you’ve gotten over your “Back to School Phobia” or whatever it is you have going on.

Friend 1: (Lies back and rubs forehead) Actually, I just woke up from a nightmare about the whole thing, and it was probably the worst dream I’ve ever had in my entire life.

Friend 2: Oh, wow, that stinks.

Friend 1: Yeah.  But, in a strange way, I think it may have been exactly what I needed.

Friend 2: How so?

Friend 1: Well, it was so ridiculously and unrealistically horrible that now my actual memories aren’t so bad in comparison.

Friend 2: (Leans back in desk chair in triumph) So: I was right.

Friend 1: Don’t rub it in.  Suffice it to say, I am now at peace with Back to School and can look upon that time fondly and enjoy this season at last.

Friend 2: Good, because the reason why I was only going to leave a message instead of having this full-blown conversation is that I figured at this point in the day you’d be at post-school era, adult-world work, so now I think you’re about two hours late.

Friend 1: …I wanna go back to school.

Story 409: Method Homeworking

 (In a high school classroom)

Teacher: Good morning, class; welcome back to school and your first day of Algebra –

Students: Boooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Teacher: I will allow one token protest to readjust after your summer of slackerdom – now, let’s begin with your new best friends this year: X, Y, and Z....

(Forty minutes later)

Teacher: And so, your homework tonight and every night until the end of the academic year will be the problems we are up to today – (Checks the day’s plan) yes, the next 20 will do fine.

Students: Ughhhhhh….

Teacher: Just do your best; you won’t be quizzed until Tuesday the earliest.

Students: Aaaahhhhh!!!!!

(The bell rings and the students run out of the classroom)

Teacher: And remember: have fun!  Out of all the math you may take in high school, this is the only one you’ll all actually need in your adult lives!  (Mutters while prepping for the next class) Only 50+ more years of this until retirement.

(The next day)

Teacher: All right students, I saw that nearly all of you have posted your homework on our portal by at least 7:59 this morning; however, and I am loath to tardy-shame so early in the semester, but you – (Points to Student 1) still have not submitted your work, at all.  I will accept a paper version at this time, and this time only.

Student 1: (Stands) Actually, Teach –

Teacher: <Gasps>

Student 1: – since you told us to have fun, I decided to answer the problems a little more… creatively, if you will.  (Quickly dashes out to the hallway and comes back in dragging a large covered object on a wheeled cart to the front of the classroom, whipping off the tarp with a beaming flourish)

Teacher: And what, pray tell, is this?  A computer that you manipulated to supply you with all the answers?

Student 1: What?  No, it’s a nuclear reactor.

Teacher: WHAT??!!

Student 1: I built it last night – to scale, of course.

Teacher: Oh I see, it’s a model nuclear reactor.

Student 1: Heck no, it’s functional: my cousin hooked me up with some uranium that “fell off a truck,” wink, wink.

Teacher: WHAT????!!!!

Student 1: (Pats the reactor) Don’t worry, it’s lead-lined.

Teacher: (Gesturing wildly at the reactor) But – what – why – nuclear – why – fission – but – algebra!

Student 1: Well, the problems you assigned were all to solve for unknown variables, and you’d said we be using this material later in life, so I thought, “What better way to apply this busywork than to make all these equations solve for the components in generating a non-fossil-fuel-dependent energy source?”  Nuclear energy is the key to saving the planet, I’m telling you!

Student 2: (Raises hand) Can you make it have a meltdown?

Teacher: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

Student 1: (Laughing) Yeah, that’s the one fly in the green energy ointment here; next step is solving the variables for space vehicles that’ll harvest the hydrogen and helium directly from the Sun without making it go supernova in the process, which should solve all our current planetary crises forever.  (To Teacher) Mind if I hand that in on Monday instead of tomorrow?  I got Drama Club this afternoon.

Teacher: Sit down, please.  (Student 1 drags the reactor to the back of the class as neighboring students tentatively pet it in passing) Now, class: while I admire your enthusiasm and thinking outside the box to apply what you learn in the classroom to real-life situations, I must draw the line at atom-splitting and any other potentially life- and planet-threatening activities, is that clear?

Student 3: (Raises hand) Is it all right if my term project is solving for X to create a never-ending supply of water?

Teacher: While I am tempted to say “Go right ahead,” I fear you would wind up drowning the world instead.

Student 3: Fair enough.

(The bell rings)

Teacher: (As the students leave with the nuclear reactor in tow) Right: tonight I want you all to only complete problems 21 to 40, with just the answers entered next to the equations and no “Show and Tell” demonstrations, please!  (In the empty classroom, Teacher slumps back at the desk to prep for the next class) Everyone says they wish today’s youth were more engaged with the real world, but I don’t think they realize what the results would be.

Story 384: Putting Off a Chore

 (At the dinner table)

Parent: So, how was school today?

Child: (Shrugs) It was all right – the teachers still’re burdening us with unnecessary work, but I’m viewing it as training for the inevitable “Real World” that we all must grapple with, unceasingly, until the day we die.

Parent: OK; how was band practice?

Child: A lot of fun, but tainted by the knowledge that no matter how much I practice, I will never achieve membership in a repertory orchestra.

Parent: Right – when dinner’s over could you do that thing I asked you to do the other day, please?

Child: Oh.  You need that done now?

Parent: I needed it done the other day, but after dinner’ll do.

Child: You mind if I do some of my homework first?  I don’t think I’ll be as mentally equipped to face it if I wait `til afterward.

Parent: You must really dread doing this if you’d rather do homework first.

 LATER THAT NIGHT

 (Stretched across the bed, Child is scribbling in a notebook)

Parent: (At the bedroom doorway) So, did you do that thing I asked you?

Child: (Freezes) Oh.  I was so caught up in solving these quadratic equations I completely lost track of the time.

Parent: Uh-huh.  Make sure you do it after school tomorrow, OK?

Child: (Salutes) Righty-ho!

 AFTER SCHOOL TOMORROW

 Parent: (Answering the phone) Hello?

Child: Hi!  So, I found out today that Band’s playing at the senior center this afternoon, and we’ll be there for hours and hours making those lonely people all happy, so I won’t be home until it’s real late, so, yeah.

Parent: Isn’t that something you’d have to specifically volunteer for because the center can’t fit the whole band, and when you found out about it last week you’d told me you, quote, “didn’t really feel like it”?

Child: Yes, well, today I realized, those lonely people need me!

Parent: Uh-huh.  Call me when you need a ride home; you’re gonna do that chore for me tomorrow, then.

Child: Righty-ho!

 TOMORROW

 (Parent courtesy knocks on Child’s bedroom door and opens it immediately, striding over to the windows to burst open the curtains)

Parent: Rise and shine – today’s the day!

Child: (Blinks awake) Mmf?

Parent: You’re going to do that thing I asked you to do, today!

Child: Oh – actually, I forgot, today I’d said I’d tutor the elementary school kids in English in the morning, and then help out at the track meet in the afternoon.  Plus tonight I told your parents I’d make them dinner, so, yeah.

Parent: …Seriously?!

 THE NEXT TOMORROW

 (Parent courtesy knocks on Child’s bedroom door and opens it immediately)

Child: (Blinks awake) Mmf?

Parent: This is it!  Time for your chore!

Child: Oh – actually, you mind if I do it after conducting the children’s choir at Mass this morning and then running that blood drive for the county this afternoon? I’ll probably be exhausted by then, but I’ll find the time, somehow.

Parent: (Grabs Child by the feet and drags those to the floor) Up!  At `em!  Go, go, go!

Child: (Stumbles out of the room) Aw, shucks, this is cutting into my daily 5-mile run!

Parent: The daily run you’ve never done before today?  Now beat it!

 FIVE MINUTES LATER

 (Parent drinks coffee and reads the newspaper at the kitchen table; Child slumps into the room)

Child: Well – it’s done.

Parent: There, was that so hard?

Child: I guess not.  It took a lot less time than I thought, and now it’s finally over.

Parent: Good.  Now go make yourself presentable for the children’s choir.

Child: Oh yeah, that.  (Slumps out of the room)

Parent: (Resumes drinking coffee and reading the newspaper) It’s like pulling teeth – too bad it took so long to get done that I’ve forgotten what it was.