Lessons in Time - A School Story Page #3

I enjoy nostalgia and walking down memory lane. I have vivid memories of school, grade one to grade 12, complete with fear, angst and joy.

• Fiction

								


1975


Just before summer vacation at the end of Grade Ten, Nicky was kicked out of her math class for supposedly ‘cheating on a test.’ Her first instinct was to find Billy, drive to the beach, and smoke weed.

After being wrongfully accused and misunderstood, she headed to the smoke pit at the center of the school. She knew Billy would be there, skipping out on something and reading about social injustice, racial discrimination, or the legalization of marijuana.

The thought of her serious best friend, always ready to take a stand, made Nicky smile.

She spotted him across the courtyard, sitting cross-legged with a book, his perfectly feathered blonde hair spilling over his furrowed brow and squinting blue eyes. The
open-air ceiling allowed his cigarette smoke to drift up and out, mingling with the varying moods and complaints about teachers, exams, and the general unfairness of life.
Pulling out the mirrored compact from her fringed leather handbag, Nicky noticed thick black streaks of mascara staining her cheeks, clumping in the corner of her eyes. She mumbled to herself, “What the hell?” as she frantically dabbed at the evidence of anguish over being labelled a cheater—someone she was not.

Opening the smudged glass door leading into the teenager haven of overflowing ashtrays and picnic tables, she looked past the carved initials, four-letter words, drawings of butts and boobs. She met Billy's eyes and let the door slam behind her for effect.

The lump in her throat grew, nearly choking her as she sighed, preparing to rant.

Sensing something was wrong with the girl who seemingly shaped his identity, Billy jumped up, dropping his book into a puff of sand and cigarette butts. Clenching his teeth around his lit smoke, he moved toward Nicky.

Before she could speak, he said, “Who did this to you, Nick? What’s wrong? C’mon, let’s get out of here!”

Excused from Home Economics before lunch, Wendy hurried past the smoke pit, always amazed at how dirty the windows were. She wondered why no one ever cleaned the yellow nicotine-stained glass or, worse, restored their blackened lungs to their original pinkness, as shown in Health class.

She lingered when she saw Billy and Nicky embracing. Were they finally revealing their romance or parting after a secret breakup? She admired their aloofness and twin-like persona, as if cut from the same cloth, though he was a blonde Adonis and she a brunette Aphrodite. Suppressing annoyance, Wendy tapped on the window, pointing to her Timex watch as if to say, ‘The bell hasn’t gone yet, so why aren’t you in class?!’

Quickly moving apart, the two turned toward Wendy, who stood with her hands on her hips and feet shoulder-width apart, making her a force to be reckoned with.

As Billy began raising his middle finger to the school know-it-all, Nicky covered his hand with hers, dipping her head to hide a laugh.

Turning on her heel, Wendy let out an exasperated huff. Stomping off with her ponytail swishing like a determined mare, she continued down the hall, pausing when she saw Markus in the office. She wondered if he was picking up a late slip or getting excused early to peel out of the parking lot in his mother’s sports car, just in time for his female admirers to glimpse their hoped-for boyfriend.
Rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath, she questioned why the sight of Markus infuriated her while simultaneously hoping he would notice her.

As Wendy headed down the hall toward the cafeteria, she peeked into the gymnasium, where basketball teams were warming up. The cheerleaders crowded the bleachers like hummingbirds fluttering while all eyes were on them instead of the players.

Reaching the cafeteria as the bell rang, Wendy removed a wicker basket from her shoulder, spread out a gingham tablecloth, set up a jewelry stand, and arranged her feathered earrings. Sitting down, she eagerly waited for her first customers.

After ducking from a flying French fry, she thought the scene needed a makeover. The brown and orange trays were ghastly, the plastic cutlery tacky, and the food disgusting. If it were up to her, the menu would be healthier and lighter, with centrepieces and place cards at each table for students to know where to sit.

Billy and Nicky emerged from the fishbowl the principal had cleverly installed back in the 1950s as a place for teenagers to hang out and escape the confines of the institution.

Once in the school parking lot, they walked past Markus as he was about to climb into his new red TR-6, a recent gift from his parents. Both boys nodded at each other, high- fiving, while Nicky took no notice and climbed into the passenger side of Billy’s rusty- edged GMC pickup.

Dolores stared out the window of the chemistry classroom, into the parking lot below. She had started eating her lunches there because Peter and his friends played chess amongst the Bunsen burners, safety goggles, and lab coats.

She enjoyed the saltiness of her tuna fish sandwich and the softness of the bread, and made a mental note to find a toothpick later to pick out bits from her braces. Gazing out the window, she spotted Billy and Nicky getting into his truck and wondered where they were headed. With a smile, Doloros speculated that they might be heading off for a romantic rendezvous—“skyrockets in flight, afternoon delight”—relishing the connection to the Starland Vocal Band's new song.

Biting into her sandwich and glancing at Peter, who sat a few tables over, she noticed his serious expression showing deep concentration as he prepared for checkmate.

Dolores crumpled her wax paper, sipped her orange pop, and glanced at the wooden science table. She ran her fingers across the carvings made by bored teenagers— obscene gestures, doodles, and initials gouged into the tabletop with a protractor. She noticed B + N with a heart around it and knew it stood for Billy and Nicky.
1976
The cliques ruled everything inside and outside.

Fashionable teenagers wore bell-bottom pants frayed at the bottom, tie-dye t-shirts, peasant blouses, and ponchos. Girls had long, straight hair, and boys tried to grow mutton-chop sideburns. Mood Rings, Rubik’s Cubes, Pet Rocks, and PEZ candy were popular trends and must-have pastimes.

The rallying cry, "Disco Sucks," became a symbol of resistance among rock and roll enthusiasts. As a revolt, Billy started a band. He knew Nicky could sing. He’d seen Markus messing around on the drums before and he himself was known for his guitar riffs.

Billy transformed his parents’ garage into a dim, glowing masterpiece. Black light posters of rock legends lined the walls, their neon hues pulsing in the dark. An old extension cord snaked across the floor, feeding power to a few mismatched lamps he'd salvaged from around the house. As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, a sly grin crossed his face.

While he waited for his bandmates to arrive, he strummed his acoustic guitar and hummed “Blackbird” by the Beatles.

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