Mrs. Haddock's kindergarten class resembled most rooms that are meant to hold the attention of budding six and seven year olds. The walls were covered with bright colored posters, professing the newest and freshest tag-lines, "Just Say No!", "Be an ABBIT! - A's and B's because I try!", "Reading is FUN!" and a plethora of other clever logos and catch-phrases designed to enlighten "Children. The Future of America."
One wall was covered with thirty or so pieces of manilla paper, each containing a finger painting, crayon drawing or color-by-numbers masterpiece that assured parents on Open House Night that their son or daughter WAS the next Pablo Picasso. Towards the back of the room was an open space divided into three sections by free-standing walls. The first section was outfitted with books on shelves, tape recorders giving phonics lessons in fun cartoon voices and five or six brightly colored beanbags, that were so inviting, you would have to be a fool to think that reading was anything but cool. To the right of the Reading Lounge sat the Math and Science Center, or "Video Arcade," as it was enthusiastically called by my classmates and I. This room was covered, floor to ceiling, in number games and science experiments that were thrilling to watch. Exploding volcanoes, giant electro-magnets and plants growing in Ziplock bags made everyone want to be a scientist when they grew up. But, the true attraction were the computers and computer games. Someone in the administrative office at the school board must have had a revelation one day, "These kids love video games and they love computers. Let's make learning fun, again!" And that was that. The result was a game called "Number Munchers," in which, children were challenged to work their way through a series of mazes, attacking villains with the correct answers to math problems. The higher up in levels you got, the harder the questions became and in theory, the smarter a student would become. After each level a cartoon ensued and "Super Muncher" would uncover clues that foiled the evil villains' plans. I held the Number Munchers' high score due, in part, to a loophole in the gaming system. This was the first of many times that pretending to be smart would ensure I didn't have to work very hard. Learning really WAS fun, again!
When class was over, we would head to the third section of the room, where thirty or so cubby holes sat, storing everything from pencil boxes to action figures. It was this section that served as the social hub for the entire kindergarten class. Here, surrounded by school supplies, I fell in love for the first time.
As a very young child, the need to impress those around me was great. Not because I was insecure and seeking approval, but more because I was an arrogant know-it-all. I had tasted how sweet it was to be recognized for good behavior, good work and good deeds and saw no reason to end the increasing amount of responsibility that was afforded to me for being "such a bright young boy!" The trouble with being better than everyone else was that you had to constantly work at it. The fast paced environment that IS kindergarten was no place for slackers. I understood this and had only one problem with it all; I was extremely lazy when it came to school work.
Why on earth would anyone want to do homework, when you could be building forts, riding bikes and robbing fictitious banks? Keeping these things in mind, I devised a strategy, in no time at all, that would allow me to stay a superstar scholar throughout my tenure at Acton Elementary School. Reading was easy, as we never changed books. So, I spent an afternoon listening to the audio version of our beginner book and memorized every word. It was a simple task when you were being guided by Alvin and the Chipmunks, in their patented sing-song fashion. This simple act of deception sent adults cooing with admiration for quite some time and made me the Maven of the Reading Lounge. "See!" I would say to my "slower" classmates, "Reading is Fun!" Then I would read the entire book, or rather recite the entire book from memory, cover to cover, aloud. I can only imagine how inferior everyone must have felt sitting around me. I mean, they were still in the "sound-it-out" phase, while I had mastered perfect articulation.
Moving on to the "Video Arcade" was not that much more difficult. I just went through the game and picked answers at random, waiting for the computer screen to flash what the correct answer should have been. In a matter of days, I didn't even read the questions. "2 plus 2, 7 plus 3; 1, 2, 3, _, _." I was just typing a series of numbers, "4, 10, 4, 5." It was so satisfying to be the first kid to solve all of "Number Muncher's" mysteries. There was even talk of bumping me up a grade.
I reveled in my celebrity-scholar status and had perfected my smile, in the mirror, for my multiple "Student of the Month" photo opportunities. I was living a life of leisure and my female counterparts were drawn to my allure and confidence. School had become a breeze and I thought nothing would come easier. I couldn't have been more mistaken, though. As simple as it had been to flip pages in a memorized book and pretend that I was reading, it was even easier to get girls to hold my hand at recess.
Relishing in the cat fights that would ensue, as my adoring public fought over my attention, I walked around with a smirk on my face. There were even some accounts of girls hiding dollar bills inside walnut shells and metal washers, then pawning them off as a natural phenomenon. I admired these girls' clever attempts to forge alchemy and granted them access to their prized possession, "Jonathan the Boy Wonder!" While I didn't realize it at the time, I had become Acton Elementary's very first male gigolo and I loved every second of it!
That is, for a time, I loved every second of it. Sooner than later, the day came where I grew bored of being the apple of everyone's eye. I had beat the system, but in doing so, had lost the thrill of the chase. It was around this time that a challenge presented itself and peaked my dying spirits. Her name was Paige Woods.
Paige was a shy girl, the kind that would softly giggle and blush if you complimented her. I had always been friendly with her. But, as she was more focused on furthering her education and getting though school legitimately, I had little time to nurture our relationship any further than acquaintances. With so many other offers on the table, she was of little concern to me. Or, at least, that's how it began. After riding the popularity wave for a while, I couldn't help but notice how Paige was paying little attention to me. I couldn't place the reasons why this bothered me, but I was determined to find out. "Why hadn't she jumped on the Jon Ray bandwagon?"
I started off slowly, observing her from a distance. I was collecting information, playing out different approaches in my mind. From what I could tell, she desperately wanted to succeed and I, often times, found her trying to read, even at recess! After careful consideration, it became clear to me how I would win her heart. I would share my secrets to milking the system all the way to the top with her. I was certain she would be thrilled and knew that if she took my advice, we would have plenty of free time to frolic together.
The day came and I met her by the cubby holes that morning. I was in love. Now, for execution. As we walked to the "Video Arcade," I started out casually, trying to build repor with her and when we were both laughing, I laid it all out. I told her about "Number Munchers," about memorizing books with Alvin and the Chipmunks. I even informed her about the art of tracing pictures, my newest scam to pawn myself off as a genuine artist. She listened and tested a few of my theories out. When the "Number Munchers" scam landed her with a high score, we became fast friends.
Oddly enough, it was fun to be able to share my glory, for a change, so long as I knew that it was my genius behind it all. We held hands at recess and laughed at the jealousy we were stirring up in our classmates. Everyday, we would trace pictures and place them in each other's cubby holes. It was a fairy tale relationship and things escalated quickly. Within a month, I had convinced my mother to let her come over and play at our house, after school. We were having a marvelous time and I was "in love!"
One afternoon, after a play-date with Paige, I decided that pencil drawings would no longer cut it. "This was the love of my life!" I said to myself and decided she deserved something especially nice. As the evening crept on, I had my game plan down pat. My mother would start preparing dinner in a matter of minutes, which left me a 30-minute window of freedom. She would be occupied until dinner was served, but if I waited longer than 30-minutes, I would be caught red-handed when my father got home from work. When the scent of sauteed vegetables filled my nostrils, I knew it was time to act. I walked out through the back kitchen door, in an effort to mislead my mother. "I'm going to play outside," I told her, as I walked out the door. Once outside, I went into "Hollywood Stealth Mode." With my hands and fingers pressed together to form my firearm, I crept around the house to the garage, being careful to avoid being seen through any of the windows. From the garage, I was able to get back inside the house, without being detected. The door to the garage from the house was just hidden from sight to anyone standing in the kitchen and was at a right angle with my parent's bedroom entrance.
Now inside the master bedroom, I stopped. The scent of my mother's cooking in the air, almost made me feel bad for what I was about to do. But, as my thoughts turned back to Paige's curly hair and rosy cheeks, it became clear again that my love knew no bounds. I opened my mother's jewelry box and pulled out a golden locket. Faster than a flash, I had placed the necklace in my pocket and was back in the safety of the backyard. I recruited my brother from inside and we played cops and robbers until dinner was served. Of course, I was the robber.
When I arrived at school the next morning, I placed the locket in my lover's pencil box. When she found it, she smiled and put it on, then ran over and pecked me on the cheek. I had never been more pleased with myself. Class started, as always, with the morning announcements, followed by the Pledge of Allegiance and then Lee Greenwood's song, "God Bless the USA," whose lyrics I now knew by heart and sang along with. When the overhead P.A. system was turned off, it was time for me to go and beat my high score in "Number Munchers," again. As I began walking towards the "Video Arcade," though, it became apparent that the computers were not there. Each of us students whispered between one another, "Where are the computers?", "What's that new number board?", "What's going on?"
Mrs. Haddock broke the chatter, "Today, we are going to have a test over your numbers. We will be getting new computers tomorrow, so, once you pass your test you may go to recess early with Mrs. Killian. Those of you who don't get all of the questions correct can stay here with me and practice until lunch. "Test!" I thought as I started fidgeting, "This isn't the normal routine!"
Each member of the class went to a booth where Mrs. Haddock sat. There she would ask each student a series of questions and we were required to place the correct answer on a blue felt board. I stood in line and waited my turn. Everyone was excited about having an extended recess and they even started picking teams for kickball. I was going to be on Steven Bishop's team and there was no doubt that we would win. Steven had great distance and force in his kicks and I was a phenomenal sprinter. How could we lose?
As Steven walked out of the testing booth, he motioned that he would meet me outside. My heart was thumping hard inside my chest. But, not the quick beat brought on by fear and terror, it was something more slow, deep and melodic, as if it were just going to give up. I walked inside the testing booth. The first two questions were simple and obviously just teasers to get you off to a positive start. I even managed to breeze through the next five. "Maybe, I actually have learned this stuff?" I thought to myself as the last question came out, "Place all these numbers in order from least to greatest." I looked at Mrs. Haddock and then down at the stack of shuffled numbers. "I can do this!" And laughed inside my head as I began placing the numbers carefully on the board. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14...wait no...13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20...and finally...0." I looked to Mrs. Haddock's face, "I'm sorry Jon. Zero comes before all the numbers because it has no value. Why don't you just go and write them down a few times and then you can go to recess after..." Her words trailed off as I walked out of the booth a failure. All I could hear in my head was the echo of "Has no value...Has no value...Has no value." And then, in front of all my classmates, I began to cry.
By lunch time, I was all anyone could talk about. But, it wasn't the pleasant gossip that boosted your ego, in which, I was accustomed to. This was something much different. I had shown to my classmates that not only was I vulnerable, but worse, I was stupid. Kids can be mean. I had been mean. Now, I hung my head in shame. Crushed. Steven's team had won in kickball, "No thanks to Crybaby Jon, who couldn't pass his test!" He told the table, who immediately began to laugh at my expense.
The rest of the day felt like an eternity. Everything moving in slow motion and muffled. The bell, finally, rang and released us. I hadn't seen Paige since "The Incident." I walked to my cubby to grab my backpack and put an end to my humiliation. There, sitting on my pencil box, was my mother's locket. I grabbed it and raced to the door, just as my eyes began to fill with tears again. I told my mother about the test that I hadn't aced and then gave her the locket. I was now balling, as I begged for forgiveness. A quick spanking from my father made me wish I had never met Paige Woods.
Everyone seemed to have forgotten about my small failure when I returned to school the next day. But, I was not ready to face another embarrassment and decided I would actually learn a few things. As we went out to recess, I saw Paige holding hands with another boy. This was the first time a woman had rejected me and that was probably what attracted me to her in the first place. "Look at her over there with Joshua Pruitt!" I said to Steven, now my friend again. He looked at me and after lunch we did what any jealous kindergartner would do; We took Joshua's pencil box and filled it with glue. Joshua and I would meet again a few years later. In the third grade he gave me my first and only black eye. All's fair in love and war.
One wall was covered with thirty or so pieces of manilla paper, each containing a finger painting, crayon drawing or color-by-numbers masterpiece that assured parents on Open House Night that their son or daughter WAS the next Pablo Picasso. Towards the back of the room was an open space divided into three sections by free-standing walls. The first section was outfitted with books on shelves, tape recorders giving phonics lessons in fun cartoon voices and five or six brightly colored beanbags, that were so inviting, you would have to be a fool to think that reading was anything but cool. To the right of the Reading Lounge sat the Math and Science Center, or "Video Arcade," as it was enthusiastically called by my classmates and I. This room was covered, floor to ceiling, in number games and science experiments that were thrilling to watch. Exploding volcanoes, giant electro-magnets and plants growing in Ziplock bags made everyone want to be a scientist when they grew up. But, the true attraction were the computers and computer games. Someone in the administrative office at the school board must have had a revelation one day, "These kids love video games and they love computers. Let's make learning fun, again!" And that was that. The result was a game called "Number Munchers," in which, children were challenged to work their way through a series of mazes, attacking villains with the correct answers to math problems. The higher up in levels you got, the harder the questions became and in theory, the smarter a student would become. After each level a cartoon ensued and "Super Muncher" would uncover clues that foiled the evil villains' plans. I held the Number Munchers' high score due, in part, to a loophole in the gaming system. This was the first of many times that pretending to be smart would ensure I didn't have to work very hard. Learning really WAS fun, again!
When class was over, we would head to the third section of the room, where thirty or so cubby holes sat, storing everything from pencil boxes to action figures. It was this section that served as the social hub for the entire kindergarten class. Here, surrounded by school supplies, I fell in love for the first time.
As a very young child, the need to impress those around me was great. Not because I was insecure and seeking approval, but more because I was an arrogant know-it-all. I had tasted how sweet it was to be recognized for good behavior, good work and good deeds and saw no reason to end the increasing amount of responsibility that was afforded to me for being "such a bright young boy!" The trouble with being better than everyone else was that you had to constantly work at it. The fast paced environment that IS kindergarten was no place for slackers. I understood this and had only one problem with it all; I was extremely lazy when it came to school work.
Why on earth would anyone want to do homework, when you could be building forts, riding bikes and robbing fictitious banks? Keeping these things in mind, I devised a strategy, in no time at all, that would allow me to stay a superstar scholar throughout my tenure at Acton Elementary School. Reading was easy, as we never changed books. So, I spent an afternoon listening to the audio version of our beginner book and memorized every word. It was a simple task when you were being guided by Alvin and the Chipmunks, in their patented sing-song fashion. This simple act of deception sent adults cooing with admiration for quite some time and made me the Maven of the Reading Lounge. "See!" I would say to my "slower" classmates, "Reading is Fun!" Then I would read the entire book, or rather recite the entire book from memory, cover to cover, aloud. I can only imagine how inferior everyone must have felt sitting around me. I mean, they were still in the "sound-it-out" phase, while I had mastered perfect articulation.
Moving on to the "Video Arcade" was not that much more difficult. I just went through the game and picked answers at random, waiting for the computer screen to flash what the correct answer should have been. In a matter of days, I didn't even read the questions. "2 plus 2, 7 plus 3; 1, 2, 3, _, _." I was just typing a series of numbers, "4, 10, 4, 5." It was so satisfying to be the first kid to solve all of "Number Muncher's" mysteries. There was even talk of bumping me up a grade.
I reveled in my celebrity-scholar status and had perfected my smile, in the mirror, for my multiple "Student of the Month" photo opportunities. I was living a life of leisure and my female counterparts were drawn to my allure and confidence. School had become a breeze and I thought nothing would come easier. I couldn't have been more mistaken, though. As simple as it had been to flip pages in a memorized book and pretend that I was reading, it was even easier to get girls to hold my hand at recess.
Relishing in the cat fights that would ensue, as my adoring public fought over my attention, I walked around with a smirk on my face. There were even some accounts of girls hiding dollar bills inside walnut shells and metal washers, then pawning them off as a natural phenomenon. I admired these girls' clever attempts to forge alchemy and granted them access to their prized possession, "Jonathan the Boy Wonder!" While I didn't realize it at the time, I had become Acton Elementary's very first male gigolo and I loved every second of it!
That is, for a time, I loved every second of it. Sooner than later, the day came where I grew bored of being the apple of everyone's eye. I had beat the system, but in doing so, had lost the thrill of the chase. It was around this time that a challenge presented itself and peaked my dying spirits. Her name was Paige Woods.
Paige was a shy girl, the kind that would softly giggle and blush if you complimented her. I had always been friendly with her. But, as she was more focused on furthering her education and getting though school legitimately, I had little time to nurture our relationship any further than acquaintances. With so many other offers on the table, she was of little concern to me. Or, at least, that's how it began. After riding the popularity wave for a while, I couldn't help but notice how Paige was paying little attention to me. I couldn't place the reasons why this bothered me, but I was determined to find out. "Why hadn't she jumped on the Jon Ray bandwagon?"
I started off slowly, observing her from a distance. I was collecting information, playing out different approaches in my mind. From what I could tell, she desperately wanted to succeed and I, often times, found her trying to read, even at recess! After careful consideration, it became clear to me how I would win her heart. I would share my secrets to milking the system all the way to the top with her. I was certain she would be thrilled and knew that if she took my advice, we would have plenty of free time to frolic together.
The day came and I met her by the cubby holes that morning. I was in love. Now, for execution. As we walked to the "Video Arcade," I started out casually, trying to build repor with her and when we were both laughing, I laid it all out. I told her about "Number Munchers," about memorizing books with Alvin and the Chipmunks. I even informed her about the art of tracing pictures, my newest scam to pawn myself off as a genuine artist. She listened and tested a few of my theories out. When the "Number Munchers" scam landed her with a high score, we became fast friends.
Oddly enough, it was fun to be able to share my glory, for a change, so long as I knew that it was my genius behind it all. We held hands at recess and laughed at the jealousy we were stirring up in our classmates. Everyday, we would trace pictures and place them in each other's cubby holes. It was a fairy tale relationship and things escalated quickly. Within a month, I had convinced my mother to let her come over and play at our house, after school. We were having a marvelous time and I was "in love!"
One afternoon, after a play-date with Paige, I decided that pencil drawings would no longer cut it. "This was the love of my life!" I said to myself and decided she deserved something especially nice. As the evening crept on, I had my game plan down pat. My mother would start preparing dinner in a matter of minutes, which left me a 30-minute window of freedom. She would be occupied until dinner was served, but if I waited longer than 30-minutes, I would be caught red-handed when my father got home from work. When the scent of sauteed vegetables filled my nostrils, I knew it was time to act. I walked out through the back kitchen door, in an effort to mislead my mother. "I'm going to play outside," I told her, as I walked out the door. Once outside, I went into "Hollywood Stealth Mode." With my hands and fingers pressed together to form my firearm, I crept around the house to the garage, being careful to avoid being seen through any of the windows. From the garage, I was able to get back inside the house, without being detected. The door to the garage from the house was just hidden from sight to anyone standing in the kitchen and was at a right angle with my parent's bedroom entrance.
Now inside the master bedroom, I stopped. The scent of my mother's cooking in the air, almost made me feel bad for what I was about to do. But, as my thoughts turned back to Paige's curly hair and rosy cheeks, it became clear again that my love knew no bounds. I opened my mother's jewelry box and pulled out a golden locket. Faster than a flash, I had placed the necklace in my pocket and was back in the safety of the backyard. I recruited my brother from inside and we played cops and robbers until dinner was served. Of course, I was the robber.
When I arrived at school the next morning, I placed the locket in my lover's pencil box. When she found it, she smiled and put it on, then ran over and pecked me on the cheek. I had never been more pleased with myself. Class started, as always, with the morning announcements, followed by the Pledge of Allegiance and then Lee Greenwood's song, "God Bless the USA," whose lyrics I now knew by heart and sang along with. When the overhead P.A. system was turned off, it was time for me to go and beat my high score in "Number Munchers," again. As I began walking towards the "Video Arcade," though, it became apparent that the computers were not there. Each of us students whispered between one another, "Where are the computers?", "What's that new number board?", "What's going on?"
Mrs. Haddock broke the chatter, "Today, we are going to have a test over your numbers. We will be getting new computers tomorrow, so, once you pass your test you may go to recess early with Mrs. Killian. Those of you who don't get all of the questions correct can stay here with me and practice until lunch. "Test!" I thought as I started fidgeting, "This isn't the normal routine!"
Each member of the class went to a booth where Mrs. Haddock sat. There she would ask each student a series of questions and we were required to place the correct answer on a blue felt board. I stood in line and waited my turn. Everyone was excited about having an extended recess and they even started picking teams for kickball. I was going to be on Steven Bishop's team and there was no doubt that we would win. Steven had great distance and force in his kicks and I was a phenomenal sprinter. How could we lose?
As Steven walked out of the testing booth, he motioned that he would meet me outside. My heart was thumping hard inside my chest. But, not the quick beat brought on by fear and terror, it was something more slow, deep and melodic, as if it were just going to give up. I walked inside the testing booth. The first two questions were simple and obviously just teasers to get you off to a positive start. I even managed to breeze through the next five. "Maybe, I actually have learned this stuff?" I thought to myself as the last question came out, "Place all these numbers in order from least to greatest." I looked at Mrs. Haddock and then down at the stack of shuffled numbers. "I can do this!" And laughed inside my head as I began placing the numbers carefully on the board. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14...wait no...13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20...and finally...0." I looked to Mrs. Haddock's face, "I'm sorry Jon. Zero comes before all the numbers because it has no value. Why don't you just go and write them down a few times and then you can go to recess after..." Her words trailed off as I walked out of the booth a failure. All I could hear in my head was the echo of "Has no value...Has no value...Has no value." And then, in front of all my classmates, I began to cry.
By lunch time, I was all anyone could talk about. But, it wasn't the pleasant gossip that boosted your ego, in which, I was accustomed to. This was something much different. I had shown to my classmates that not only was I vulnerable, but worse, I was stupid. Kids can be mean. I had been mean. Now, I hung my head in shame. Crushed. Steven's team had won in kickball, "No thanks to Crybaby Jon, who couldn't pass his test!" He told the table, who immediately began to laugh at my expense.
The rest of the day felt like an eternity. Everything moving in slow motion and muffled. The bell, finally, rang and released us. I hadn't seen Paige since "The Incident." I walked to my cubby to grab my backpack and put an end to my humiliation. There, sitting on my pencil box, was my mother's locket. I grabbed it and raced to the door, just as my eyes began to fill with tears again. I told my mother about the test that I hadn't aced and then gave her the locket. I was now balling, as I begged for forgiveness. A quick spanking from my father made me wish I had never met Paige Woods.
Everyone seemed to have forgotten about my small failure when I returned to school the next day. But, I was not ready to face another embarrassment and decided I would actually learn a few things. As we went out to recess, I saw Paige holding hands with another boy. This was the first time a woman had rejected me and that was probably what attracted me to her in the first place. "Look at her over there with Joshua Pruitt!" I said to Steven, now my friend again. He looked at me and after lunch we did what any jealous kindergartner would do; We took Joshua's pencil box and filled it with glue. Joshua and I would meet again a few years later. In the third grade he gave me my first and only black eye. All's fair in love and war.