FIRST DAY
Edward Allan Faine
“Why do I have to go to school, Mother?” I asked, as she pulled another tray of hot peanut butter cookies from the oven.
“We’ve been through this before, Ned. You promised me last week you weren’t gonna fuss about school anymore.”
“That was last week.”
“You’re going to school on Monday and that’s that.”
“But...”
“But nothing. If you’re gonna whine all day, then you can just go to your room and stay there until Daddy comes home.”
I ran upstairs, threw myself on the bed and kicked the mattress with both feet. Why didn’t she understand? I didn’t have to go to school, I already knew everything. I could count to twenty, color picture books, and recite the alphabet.
Daddy didn’t understand either. He told me, “First grade is the first step on the ladder of learning and second grade is the second step. You’ve got to take one step at a time to get to the top. And the first grade is the most important, especially since you didn’t go to kindergarten.”
Learning was important, I knew that, but I wanted to have fun, too. Most days, I played down by the creek with the Smith boys. Other days I chased squirrels and rabbits in the woods, walked to Chester’s farm and watched him feed his chickens and pigs. Other times, I played hide-and-seek, and read picture books. The oldest Smith boy, Billy, who was in the second grade, told me he didn’t have fun in first grade. Then why should I go to school and spoil all my fun?
Most of all, I’d miss Mother. What if I fell and hurt my knee in school? Where would I go for a kiss and a Band-aid to make it feel better? Or what if I twisted an ankle or stepped on a hard rock? Who would fix my footbath to soak the hurt away?
What if I got hungry between meals? Didn’t she know I liked talking to her while I ate my cookies? And on cold, rainy days when I got an earache, who would put the warm olive oil in my ear and read to me? Who would wake me from my nap? Who would I show my drawings to? Tell my stories to?
Daddy burst into my room in the middle of my daydream. “Hey, big boy, I thought you promised Mother you’d go to school on Monday?”
“That was last week.”
“Well, how about this week?”
“I’ll go,” I said in a low voice. It wouldn’t do any good to argue, he’d just tell me about the learning ladder all over again.
“Rise and shine, sleepy-head,” Mother murmered in my ear as she bent over my bed. “It’s the first day of school and you can’t be late.”
“I’m not going.”
“Ned! You promised. Only last night you said you’d go to school all by yourself.”
“That was last night.”
“You’re impossible. Put on your new shirt and pants and come downstairs. I’ve fixed you pancakes for breakfast.”
“I don’t wanna eat. I’m sick.”
“You’re not sick. You’re just trying to get out of going to school. I’ll expect you at the table in ten minutes.” Mother frowned and slammed the door to my room.
Mother still didn’t understand. Maybe...just maybe...if I made a fuss she’d change her mind. After dressing, I sat on the bed until Mother called. “Ned, your pancakes are getting cold. Come down to the table this minute.”
I slid into my kitchen chair and stared at the pancakes piled high on my plate.
“You get it into your little head that you’re going to school today,” she warned. “So you better eat now or you’re gonna be mighty hungry by noon. And hurry it up, you’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”
Mother busied herself in the kitchen like she always did. I stared at everything but the hot, syrupy pancakes in front of me. They looked yummy but I didn’t touch them.
Mother yanked me away from the table, stood me up and handed me my school box. “In the box you’ll find your lunch, your school tag, and crayons.”
She nudged me outside the house. “Okay, it’s time for you to show me you’re a big boy. The school’s only ten minutes down the road. You’ve walked there many times with Daddy. And you’ve met your teacher. So, off you go. I’ll watch you all the way there.”
Mother went back inside, and I stood where she left me on the front walk. Several minutes later she saw me through the screen door and yelled, “Ned, you’re late already. Get a move on or I’ll get your spanking switch.”
Uh-oh, what am I gonna to do now? Soon, she was back outside slapping the switch against her leg. She stepped toward me and I backed up to the gate. She lunged at me, and I slipped through the gate onto the road. I shouted at her, “I don’t know anybody at school.”
“You’ll meet new friends. Now get going before I come after you with this switch.”
I didn’t move. She moved closer and I backed away. She fixed her eyes on me and slapped the switch even faster. “You’re going to school even if I have to chase you all the way there. Now get going before I lose my patience.”
“Can’t you see I’m sick. My face is red, and I’m hot all over,” which was no lie because I was burning up. “You’re just making me sicker.”
“You’re not sick,” she replied, and then she stormed straight at me. I quick-stepped backward and, every once in a while, turned around and ran ahead so she couldn’t catch me. When she stopped, I stopped. When she stepped forward, I stepped backward. It went that way all the way to school. Once there, she yelled, “You get in that school this minute, or you can forget about going out to play ever again. You hear me! Get in that school!”
With salty tears running down my hot cheeks, I screamed, “I’m gonna get real sick and die, and it’s all your fault.” I turned and fled into the school.
“Boys and girls, say hello to Ned.”
“Hi, Ned,” they shouted in unison.
“Let’s see,” the teacher said, “there’s a place for you back there with Charlotte and Virginia.”
The teacher nudged me and I took a seat next to a frizzy-headed girl with a gap-toothed smile. “Hi, I’m Virginia but you can call me Ginny, that’s what my brothers call me. I lost my teeth in a fight with my youngest brother, although Momma says I would’ve lost them anyway. I beat him up, too, and he’s a year older.”
Girls can’t fight, that’s what Billy Smith always said. She had to be fibbing, so I asked, “You know how to wrestle?”
“Sure do. I’ll wrestle you at recess.”
The teacher clapped her hands and announced, “Okay, boys and girls, I want you to do your first exercise. On your desk you’ll find a piece of paper, I want you to print your first name on the top and the numbers one through ten on the bottom. Do the very best you can. When you’re finished raise your hand.”
I wrote what she asked and shot my hand up. I beat everybody. I sat on my hands until the other kids finished. Just like Billy said, first grade was for dumb kids. When Ginny finished she whispered, “How did you learn to print so fast?”
“My daddy taught me. I already know this stuff. My mother made me come here.”
“Do you know arith...metic?”
“Arithmetic?”
“You know, add and subtract.”
“Oh, yeah, I know that,” I said, not really knowing for sure about arithmetic. I’d have to ask Daddy.
“Okay, children, tomorrow we’ll review your ABCs; today let’s review numbers. I’m gonna hold up a card with a number on it -- it’s called a flash card -- and as soon as you see it, I want you to say the number.”
The teacher didn’t trick me none, I was always the first to shout out the number. A lot of kids like Ginny didn’t even know big numbers like nine and ten. Ginny poked me and said, “If you teach me big numbers, I’ll show you how to wrestle.”
“I already know how to wrestle.”
“Not as good as me.”
“Gooder than you.”
“We’ll see at recess.”
“Okay, children,” the teacher said, “let’s sing some songs. How many know Mary Had a Little Lamb?”
In between songs I asked Ginny, “What do we do at recess?”
“Play.”
“Really? Can we play anything we want? Like hide-and-seek?”
“Uh-huh. And wrestle, too.”
The teacher walked to the door and said, “It’s time for recess. Form a line behind me and we’ll march outside.”
Once outside, I joined some boys and raced them across the playground and, because Daddy taught me how to run fast, I beat them all. Funny, nobody told me we played at school, not even Billy.
I paused to catch my breath and Ginny jumped on my back. We toppled to the ground and, before I knew it, she had me pinned.
“Say Uncle and I’ll let you up.”
“Uncle!” I yelled. When she let loose, I jumped up and grabbed her from behind like Billy always did to me.
“Now, you say Uncle.”
“Nope,” she said, so I squeezed harder.
“Unc-unc,” Ginny whispered.
I didn’t get an Uncle because the teacher slipped up behind and pulled us apart. “Ned! We don’t fight in first grade, especially with girls. Virginia, are you hurt?”
“We were just playing. I wrestle with my brothers all the time.”
“Well now,” the teacher said, wagging her finger at both of us, “no more tussling in school. Children, form a line. Recess is over.”
After recess, we smeared finger paint on paper. Ginny made finger flowers, and I made a dark sky with Mr. Moon and his friends, the stars. Then it was time for lunch and, BOY, was I hungry.
“Whaddya got in your box?” Ginny asked.
I opened the box, unwrapped the wax paper and found a jelly sandwich, an apple, and a piece of raisin pie.
Ginny’s eyes lit up. “Oooh, I’ll trade you my chocolate milk for your pie.”
Since I hated raisins and loved chocolate, I traded right away. Ginny gave me half of her cheese sandwich because I was so hungry.
When it was nap time, we went to the cloak room and picked out a little nap rug. Ginny and I put our rugs next to each other and pretended to sleep. We made funny faces at each other while the other kids slept. After nap, we cut circles and squares out of red paper and pasted them on manila paper. We licked the paste ‘cause it smelled so good. The teacher caught us and told us never to do it again or we’d get real sick.
Instead of wrestling during the afternoon recess, Ginny and I played kick the ball with the other kids. Later, in the school room, we played a music game -- we jumped when the teacher said jump and waved when she said wave. Then we held hands and circled to the music. I tickled Ginny’s hand and she tickled me back.
When it was time to go home, the teacher asked us, “Did you have fun today?”
“Yes,” we shouted together.
“Did you learn a lot today?”
“Yessss!”
“Well, that’s what we’re going to do everyday. Have fun and learn.
“Before we go home, I want each of you to think about something you can make together with your group and tell me what you decide. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow. Okay, form a line and we’ll walk -- not run -- to the front door. See you tomorrow.”
Outside, Ginny asked me, “What do you want to make?”
“I don’t know. I’ve made a sand castle at the ocean and tinker toy things, but the funnest thing I ever made was a fort down by the creek with the Smith boys.”
“A fort, a fort,” Ginny sang, “Oh, goody, I’ll tell Charlotte. I hope the teacher will let us do it.”
“Well, I gotta go home, Ginny.”
“You don’t wanna wrestle?”
“The teacher told me it wasn’t nice to wrestle girls.”
“But I’m like a boy.”
“Yeah, I know. See you tomorrow.”
I thought about school all the way home. School wasn’t bad like Billy said. Maybe he had a mean teacher and didn’t make any new friends. I had fun and made a new friend. And I learned things, too. Funny, I never once thought of Mother.
I slammed the screen door and Mother said, “Well, how was school?”
“Okay. We finger painted, sang songs, and played. We learned stuff, too. And...and Ginny and I are going to make a fort.”
“My, my. You sure don’t sound like the boy I heard this morning.”
“That was this morning.”
