fiction:: 4th GRADE REALLY SUCKED, pt. 8

Once, when we were in Miss Cunningham's social studies class, Stevie Fisher raised his hand too eagerly as usual and then, to everyone's mild surprise, got the wrong answer. Anthony Mahoney made some smart ass remark like, "Hey, you should make him do push-ups!" The logic was that since the topic was already covered the day before, there was no excuse not to have known the answer. His cronies started laughing and cheering him on. It sounded like a great idea to them and a new way to persecute Stevie Fisher. She mused for a moment.

Like most teachers, she knew what the social situation of her class was: Stevie the Pariah, Mahoney and his Horde as the Terrorists, the rest of the class as the Spectatorship.

Besides, she always seemed to really have it in for Stevie Fisher who would earnestly correct her in front of everybody. Obviously, he had not mastered the fine art of being smart without being brainy as Sara Covey had. (On the other hand, with a spaghetti physique and hopelessly thick coke-bottle glasses, his pre-adult destiny was sealed.)

So, this wasn't going to be a difficult decision for Miss Cunningham; to be honest, I think she was a little disappointed that she hadn't come up with the idea herself. Anthony Mahoney and all his cronies were really clamoring for her to make him do those push-ups until, finally, with a barely detectable shrug of her humongous shoulders, she said, "Yeah, why not. Fisher, get over there and do 15."

Anthony Mahoney, Vic Sabbatini, Scott McGrath, Jimmy Esterhaus, and Kevin Schiess were in glee. This was so excellent and the teacher was sponsoring the whole thing! There was a lot of noise during those thirty or so seconds it took Stevie Fisher to finish his push-ups. Everyone was laughing and making wisecracks and snickering. Kids actually got out of their seats and stood around him to watch. Stevie Fisher was very solemn about the whole thing. He did his 15 (remarkably fast for a wimp) and then went back to his desk and just stared at his arms which rested, outstretched, on the desk top in front of him. His face was a little red and his bottom lip was quivering, but he didn't actually cry. Or maybe he did. Miss Cunningham started writing something on the board and then told us, without even having to turn around, that the next person she caught not paying attention was going to have to do push-ups too. Everyone's head snapped into their correct position and that was that.

I think a lot of us became really scared all of a sudden - I know I did - because if the brainiest kid in the class had to do push-ups for what was probably his first wrong answer in school ever, then where did that leave the rest of us?