Thunder and Lightening Chapter 13 By Lazlo Zalezac Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2004 Karen came into the office and went through the ordering procedure. About halfway through it, she growled and scratched an item off the order form. Irritated, she said, "We should really get this computerized. It's really easy to make a mistake with everything done manually." It was an error prone process and one that usually failed if two people were working on it. The records required a person to keep track of what was on hand, what was ordered, and what had arrived. If you failed to know what arrived then it was possible that you'd run out of stock thinking that replacements were still on order. Jerry said, "Why don't you see what kind of system you can get for the store?" "How much are you willing to spend on one?" Jerry had no clue how much a computer cost and didn't know how to go about finding out. With a sigh, he said, "I'm clueless about this stuff. Check it out and give me a reasonable estimate. Use your common sense and find something that will work for us." Karen looked over at Jerry and realized that he trusted her to do the job on her own. It was an awesome responsibility for a new employee. "Thank you, Jerry." When the afternoon came, Jerry made sure that he was in the office working on paperwork to be there for Bill's telephone call. When the telephone rang, Jerry immediately picked it up hoping to hear from his son. Instead, it was his doctor with a recommendation for an anger management therapist. He took down the names and numbers of three therapists. After hanging up, he stared down at the sheet of paper. The whole idea of going to a therapist scared him more than anything he had ever done. The rage twisted itself around his stomach, threatening to burst loose if he made the call. Moving in slow motion, he dialed the first number on the list of anger management specialists. The name of the therapist was N. Langley. He knew he needed the treatment, but he didn't know what it would involve. Images of electroshock therapy, insulin shock therapy, and lobotomies flashed through his mind. That was followed by an image of him on a couch while a guy dressed like Freud asked, "Tell me about your mother." On the third ring, a woman answered the telephone. Assuming it was a receptionist, he said, "I need to make an appointment with the therapist." "Let me get out my schedule." Realizing that the woman was the therapist, Jerry didn't know what he thought about that fact. He wondered if a woman could help him with his rage. Could he talk about his problems to a woman? Growling at the thoughts, he wondered if he could talk about his problems to man. Which would be easier? He didn't know. The woman's voice interrupted his thoughts, as she asked, "Are you still there?" "Oh, yeah. Sorry, I just wasn't expecting a woman." Jerry realized as his deep voice rumbled over the telephone line that he sounded like a sexist pig. There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. After the silence had stretched to an uncomfortable level, she asked, "Would you prefer a male therapist?" "To tell the truth, I don't know. I have no idea what to expect," replied Jerry. The rage uncoiled a little, sensing an opportunity by suggesting that the woman would make him cry and then mock him for his weakness. The woman didn't say anything in an attempt to force Jerry to initiate further discussion. Finally, he said, "I guess I had an image of Dr. Freud asking me about my mother." The woman laughed and said, "I can do a mean impersonation of Dr. Freud, but I don't have the beard so it loses its impact." The comment was so unexpected that Jerry burst out laughing. The rage recoiled as the fear of humiliation by this woman was replaced by a tentative sense of trust. Still a little uncertain, mostly about seeing a therapist, he said, "I guess I don't have a problem with seeing a woman." "I can see you Thursday at seven." "So soon?" She laughed at his reaction and then answered, "Yes, so soon." "Okay, I guess." Scheduling an appointment made this entire situation a reality to him. He forced himself to remember that he was doing this to learn how to control his rage so that he could keep his job. Maybe the therapy would allow him to let other people into his life, people like his son, Jenny, the boys next door, and his employees. "May I have your name?" "Jerry Smith," he answered realizing that he hadn't introduced himself earlier. "Okay, Jerry Smith. I'll see you Thursday at seven." "Sure." Hanging up, Jerry sat at his desk replaying the conversation in his mind. He wondered how old she was. Her voice sounded young, but she was a doctor, so that meant she wasn't too young. Glancing at the list, he realized that she might not be a doctor. Then he realized that he hadn't told her why he had scheduled the appointment. By closing time, it was clear that his son wasn't going to call. He didn't know if that was good news or bad. This was the first day of school and his son expected it to be a rough one. He stayed late just to give the boy a chance to call, but the call never came. It was past lunchtime and Jerry was about to head out to get a bite to eat when the telephone in his office rang. He stopped in the office and answered it. "Hello?" A male voice said, "I need to speak to Jerry Smith." "This is he," replied Jerry wondering who would call on the business line rather than the customer line. "I'm Mr. Haroldson. I'm the principal at Jefferson Junior High." Rather than answering immediately, Jerry sat down on his desk considering what this call meant. He asked, "What's the problem?" "Your son was in a fight and I'm going to have to suspend him." "What happened?" "He picked a fight with a smaller kid," replied the principal sounding angry. The automatic assumption that his son had started the fight irritated Jerry. He asked, "So is the smaller kid hurt?" There was a moment of silence as Mr. Haroldson considered the question. Finally, he answered, "No." Jerry replied, "It doesn't sound to me like my son hit him." "That's what he says, but why would a smaller kid pick a fight with him?" The principal sounded like a prosecuting attorney who had just delivered last piece of evidence that would convict a felon. "I don't think my son was fighting. If that other kid is still standing, it doesn't sound to me like my son was hitting him." "I hate to tell you this, but your son is a bully." The rage within started to boil as memories of never being believed by authorities returned. He didn't know how many times a small guy picked a fight with him in order to prove that he was some kind of tough guy. Always the jerk ended up flat on the ground and bleeding. If the kid that picked the fight with his son wasn't laid out flat, then his son didn't hit back. He said, "I'll be there in thirty minutes. I'll want to talk to you when I pick up Bill." After hanging up the phone, Jerry got into his truck to drive to the school. Glancing down at the gas gauge, he noticed that he was running on fumes and would have to stop to get gasoline. Rather than getting angry, he said, "I guess the principal will have to wait a little longer." It was nearly forty-five minutes before Jerry pulled up to the school parking lot and found one of the visitor’s parking spaces. The drive over had been uneventful, but he kept thinking about how the principal had discounted everything his son had said. Entering the building, he was reminded once again just how large of a man he was when the kids all looked at him terrified. After finding his way to the principal's office, Jerry stepped inside the room and looked around for a second before seeing his son sitting on a chair with a black eye. His son looked up at him with fear in his eyes, concerned that his father wouldn't believe that he hadn't fought back. Jerry smiled and walked over to Bill. Making a production of examining the black eye, he said, "Nice shiner." "Yeah, it kind of hurts," replied Bill as he touched the bruise with a finger. "So did you impress anyone?" It was a good question. When the fight had started, a number of kids had gathered around to watch Bill destroy the kid. The kid had started by kicking him in the balls. Despite wearing a cup, Bill's hands had moved down to stop it. The action was purely reflexive, but he didn't follow through with his normal fist to the face of his attacker. The gathered crowed watched, disappointed, as he didn't react to the further attacks. When the principal broke up the fight, he looked around and spotted two kids looking at him with expressions that differed significantly from others. One was Woody, a well-known nerd that enjoyed computer games, chess, and reading science fiction. The other was Sandy, a girl that tended to blend into the background to avoid notice. He didn't know much about her. Bill answered, "Yeah. I think so." "Good, now I want to talk to that principal of yours. You got a raw deal on this and we need to fix that now," Jerry said. His stomach growled announcing his hunger. Although embarrassed by the growl, he was relieved to find that his father believed him. Bill smiled and said, "Okay." The secretary had watched the exchange, staring at the huge man in the office. The principal had come out of his office as Jerry had talked with his son, brought out by the deep voice that carried through the walls of the office. He stared at Jerry, shocked at the size of the man. He immediately pictured Jerry pounding his chest like a gorilla just before it charged to tear apart an intruder. Voice cracking, he said, "I'm Principal Haroldson." Jerry turned to see the man standing at the door. He took an immediate dislike to him. The guy reminded him of a kid that used to call him gorilla, ape-man, and Neanderthal. When he had finally lost his temper, he had hit the kid twice and was expelled from school for a week because of it. The memory chaffed as he followed the man into the office. Bill was left in the outer office looking at the secretary. Looking down at him, she shook her head believing that he was a bad seed. Many of the teachers would be happy if he were to get sent to another school. Officially, Bill was suspended from school for three days. If you wanted a reputation as a tough guy, then it wasn't a bad record to get suspended on the second day of school. That wasn't what Bill wanted, he had expected it so he wasn't that surprised. After talking with his father, he felt a glimmer of hope that his punishment was going to change. Inside the office, Jerry leaned across the desk and stared at the principal. He wasn't trying to intimidate the man, but to make sure that he had his attention. His low voice reverberated through the room as he asked, "So did you talk to the kid that attacked my son?" "There was no need. I know all about your son and the fact that he is a bully. He did the same thing last year." His rage sought a chance to strike out at the principal. Jerry asked, "So do I understand this situation correctly? You are suspending my son without any investigation into the circumstances or without due process?" "No. I talked to him. It was obvious that he was lying to me and I suspended him," replied the principal getting angry. The rage grew within Jerry as it sought the chance to wreak havoc according to its nature. Jerry took a deep breath trying to control it and glanced around the room. Spotting the telephone, he reached over and picked up the handset. It didn't take him a minute to dial his lawyer. The rage inside cackled realizing that it was going to achieve its goal despite the disappointment that it would be done without violence. When the lawyer answered, Jerry said, "This is Jerry Smith." "Ah, Jerry. What can I do for you?" asked the lawyer. "I'd like to bring proceedings against the Jefferson Junior High. My son was the victim of a malicious attack by another student. Even though my son did not strike back, they are suspending him without investigating the circumstances only because he was the larger boy involved. I want to seek damages and tuition to put my son in a private school." Jerry watched the face of the man behind the desk pale at the promise of a lawsuit. Even the rage was enjoying the man's reaction. "Where are you?" "I'm in the principal's office," answered Jerry flashing a smile at Mr. Haroldson. "Let me talk to him for a moment." Jerry handed the phone to the principal, noticing that the man's hand trembled as he accepted the phone. Seating himself in one of the chairs in the office, Jerry crossed his legs and watched the telephone exchange. As little beads of sweat broke out on the forehead of the principal, Jerry couldn't help thinking that he was enjoying this way too much. It was as though he was achieving revenge against every school administrator that had ignored his pleas of innocence when he was a student. After a few minutes, the principal handed the phone back to Jerry. Holding the handset to his ear, Jerry said, "Hello." His lawyer said, "He's reconsidered the suspension. I suggest waiting to begin proceedings against the school at the moment. If the problem persists, I'll be glad to bring the suit." "Thanks," replied Jerry as he looked over at the principal. After replacing the handset in the cradle of the phone, Jerry looked over at the principal. He was silent for a moment and then said, "I expect you will investigate this episode and punish the guilty party." "I'll look into the matter," replied the principal. Jerry smiled as he replied, "I'm going to take my son to lunch. When we get back, I hope that I'll hear the results." Shocked that Jerry expected him to investigate the matter so quickly, the principal was about to object before he recalled the telephone conversation. Looking down at his desk, Principal Haroldson replied, "Okay." Jerry stood up and left the room without a goodbye. Going over to Bill, he said, "Let's go to lunch." "Am I still suspended?" asked Bill in disbelief. He was shocked that his father hadn't been able to resolve the problem. The sounds from the office had made him think that everything had been cleared up in his favor. Jerry said, "The principal is going to investigate what happened. When we get back from lunch I expect that the guilty party will be punished." Bill relaxed and followed his father out of the school satisfied that at least he was being given a fair chance. His mother would have come to the school and dragged him out by his ear, yelling the entire time that he was worthless. This had been a very different experience, one that had made him feel much better about himself. The pair sat at a table in a chain restaurant eating lunch, Bill devouring a hamburger and Jerry eating a plate of spaghetti. They were quiet as they concentrated on their food. Despite the positive outcome, Bill was still worried about what the principal was going to say happened. For all he knew, the principal would still find him guilty of something and he'd end up expelled. Jerry finished his spaghetti before Bill had finished his french- fries. He looked across the table at his son thinking about how much courage his son had shown in the fight. Curious, he asked, "So what are you going to say to Woody and Sandy?" Looking up at his father in surprise, Bill realized that he hadn't thought about what he was going to do now that the fight had ended. As a puzzled look crossed his face, he asked, "What do you suggest?" "Just let them know that you appreciated their support." "But they didn't do anything to stop the fight." "What did you feel when you looked over at them?" Smiling, Bill said, "A little better. It was nice to know that not everyone there was disappointed at the fact that I didn't cream the asshole." "Then let them know that." Woody and Sandy had never called him names. In fact, he couldn't remember ever having anything to do with them since they both kept to themselves. He dipped a french-fry into a pool of ketchup as he thought about it. There was a good chance that they could use a friend just as much as he needed one. Looking up at his father, he said, "Thanks Dad. Thanks for everything." Jerry softened and answered, "Hey, what are fathers for anyway?" "I've been studying already. I read the first chapters of each of my textbooks last night." He had sat down at home in his room after returning from school to read the assignments given out in his classes. There wasn't anything else for him to do at home, particularly since his father had left. Sticking his head out of his bedroom meant that he was likely to get yelled at by his mother. "That's good to hear. How's it going?" "The material isn't that hard. I mean, I've never really sat down and read my schoolbooks like that." The assessment surprised Jerry, as he thought his kid did all of his homework in the past. He asked, "You mean you haven't ever really studied before?" "Not really. I always did the homework based on what the teacher said in class," replied Bill with a shrug. "So I guess you are going to work all of the problems within the book." It was more of a question than a statement. "I don't know." He really hadn't give much thought about how he was going to study. The previous night was the first time that he had ever sat down and actually studied. He was traveling uncharted territory here and would have to find out what worked best for him. As far as Jerry was concerned, this was a positive development. His son was beginning to study, he had not hit back in a fight, and he was talking to his father. These were all good signs that maybe his son was going to have better teenage years than he had. Winking, he said, "You'll figure something out." "Thanks, Dad." The sound of 'Thanks, Dad' was like music to his ears. That was the second time today his son had said that to him and it sounded good. Not wanting it to end, he knew that Bill needed to return to school and he had to get back to work. With a sigh, he said, "I guess we ought to head back now." "Sure. That was a good lunch." After taking care of the check, the two returned to the school taking their time. Bill led the way to the principal's office with a sinking feeling in his stomach. They had arrived while classes were changing and the halls were filled with thirteen and fourteen year old kids. The kids moved out of their way staring up at Jerry as if they had just seen Frankenstein's monster. Jerry was half tempted to roar, just to see what the reactions would be to it. When they reached the office, Jerry noticed that there was a boy waiting in a chair. Bill nudged his arm and said, "That's him." Jerry studied the kid with a little more attention. The kid was solidly built, but much smaller than Bill. This was exactly the type of kid that would try to make a reputation by taking out someone bigger. Jerry turned to the secretary and said, "Let Principal Haroldson know that we are back from lunch." The kid looked up at Bill and asked, "Why didn't you fight back?" "I'm tired of fighting," replied Bill with a shrug of resignation. It was the truth and easy to say. The principal came out of his office in time to hear the other kid shout, "Do you know how humiliating it is to lose a fight to someone that doesn't even fight back?" Jerry glanced at the principal knowing that the truth was out and his son had been cleared. Bill, still not aware of his audience, said, "I'm sorry. I'm just tired of fighting." Jerry smiled and patted his son on his back to encourage him. With pride in his voice, he said, "I don't think you're going to have to fight anymore son." The principal called the three of them into his office. Jerry walked in with his son and stood at the back of the room leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Although he hadn't taken the stance intentionally, the position made the muscles in his arms look even bigger. The two boys seated themselves in the two chairs in front of the desk. After a quick glance at Jerry, the principal sat at his desk amazed at how intimidating the large man was. After clearing his throat, he said, "After an investigation of the events that took place at lunch, it appears that Larry started the fight and Bill did not hit back. Do either of you have a comment?" Knowing that saying anything would only make the situation worse, Larry sat staring at the floor. His dad had told him to pick the biggest kid that he could find and beat him up as a way to establish himself as someone not to aggravate. He glanced over at Bill, noticing that all of his blows had only caused a black eye. Bill had just stood there and took everything he had thrown at him. "No, sir," answered Bill looking directly at the principal. This was the first time that he felt confident in dealing with the man, knowing that most of his confidence came from the fact that his father would back him. "Larry, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to suspend you," said the principal. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have done that to the boy. He was new to the school and would have deserved a chance, but he had already established suspension as the punishment with Bill. There was no way that he was going to apply a double standard in front of the father that had already called a lawyer. Feeling far more confident than ever, Bill said, "I don't think that is fair." The comment took everyone by surprise, even Bill couldn't believe that he had actually said it out loud. Principal Haroldson asked, "Why?" Committed to answering by having raised the issue, Bill said, "It is the second day of school and he is a new student." Still stinging from the humiliation of the fight, Larry snarled, "I don't need you to defend me." Bristling, Bill was about to answer when Jerry said, "Young man. This is your second day at this school and you have no friends here. Bill has offered you nothing but consideration despite the unpleasant events that occurred earlier. I'd say that what he is doing is a pretty nice thing, particularly since he was going to be suspended because of the fight." The statement took some of the anger out of Larry as he realized that Jerry was correct. The principal was staring at Bill as if he was seeing the kid for the first time. He had expected him to be overjoyed that Larry was getting a suspension. He asked, "Bill, if you had hit him would you have admitted it?" Knowing that if he had hit the kid, the kid would have been seriously hurt made the question easy to answer. Shrugging as though indifferent, Bill answered, "There'd have been no way to deny it." There was more than a little truth to that statement. Sighing, the principal said, "Larry. I'm going to ask that you spend the rest of the week in detention. You'll have to show up to school half an hour early and spend the time in the library." "Okay," answered Larry realizing that a detention was better than suspension. He didn't know how his parents would react, but he could deal with that. He glanced at Bill realizing the kid had done him a great favor. Jerry asked, "Are we done?" "Yes," replied the principal. He filled out two forms and handed them to the boys. Gruffly, he said, "Here are your hall passes. Get to your classes now." The boys left the office, relieved to be out of there. Jerry watched them leave and then said, "Thanks." "Well, I was a little mistaken about Bill," replied the principal. He didn't like admitting it, but he had seriously misunderstood what had happened earlier. He asked, "How did you know?" "We had planned what he was going to do today," replied Jerry. "What do you mean you planned it?" Jerry sat down and said, "We both knew that someone would pick a fight with him today. After talking about it, we decided that he would do exactly what he did today. He wasn't going to hit back. In fact, he wore a cup just in case he got kicked in the nuts." The revelation surprised the principal and he sat back staring at Jerry, incredulous that they had actually predicted the events of today. "How did you know?" Jerry flexed his muscles drawing the man's attention to his body. He leaned towards the desk and answered, "That happened to me every year that I was in school until I seriously hurt someone. It has happened to him every year that he's been in school. There was no doubt that it would happen this year." "That explains why he told me to call you at work rather than his mother at the house." The comment made Jerry laugh. He said, "No, the explanation of that is totally different. I left my wife a little while ago and he has born the brunt of her rage about my leaving. She wouldn't have even let him say a word in his defense." The principal had dealt with the woman many times in the past. It was clear that she always took the side against the boy. Even though that made his job a lot easier than dealing with the father had proved, her actions were unfair. Despite the initial threat with the lawyer, he had wanted the truth to come out. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'll call you next time something comes up." Jerry nodded and then said, "I'm sure that a few kids will start calling him names and he'll loose his temper. I'm hoping that won't happen, but it is almost a forgone conclusion." "That's not a very positive outlook," replied the principal. "Human nature isn't very positive. He's a big boy. I mean physically big and that scares a lot of kids that age. They react by calling him names. Believe me when I say that it hurts to be isolated and ridiculed because you are big." Jerry didn't really like talking about this. The principal was silent as he thought about what Jerry had said. Lots of kids were teased, but didn't react with violence. Of course, few of them could react with violence that had the kind of effect as when Bill reacted. He replied, "Why do you think that they react because of his size?" Sensing a perfect parting shot, Jerry stood up and went to the door. Once there, he said, "Think about how you react to me." As Jerry left the office, the principal stared at his back not knowing how to respond to his parting comment. It was true that he felt nervous as hell around the man just because of his size. It was hard to remember how he would have reacted to Jerry when he was a kid. He did know that the thought had flitted through his mind to label the guy a gorilla. A kid wouldn't have the restraint required not to say it aloud. Jerry walked out to his truck with a jaunty step pleased with what he had done to help his son through a difficult day. He patted the side of the truck with fondness as he strode over to the door. This weekend, he expected to finish repairing the Camaro and would start on the truck. On the way back to the store, he stopped to help an elderly man change the tire on his car. It only took fifteen minutes, but the physical work felt good. This day had gone better than he could possibly have imagined. His son had turned to him for help and as a result had not been suspended from school.