Some kids think they are slick. But we all know that. Nobody thought of himself more so than Jonathan Smith. He was a short, stucky, half-Indian boy. You could tell very easily that he would be quite a handsome fellow when he grew up. He was fifteen and hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet but he was already cocky and sure of his own charms. And he practiced his skills with everyone. He succeeded quite a bit with the girls and some of the more impressionable boys in his class. One day, one of the sixth form girls slapped him hard. Jon refused to say why but he left the older girls alone after that, much to the pleasure of the younger ones.
Jon was a bright boy. Not with his classes, mind you. He was the kind of child who had a solution to every problem. I prayed every morning that he would apply some of the wit to the lessons his parents hoped would take him out of their homes and their pockets. Jon was happy; he could care less for books and CXC. He spent his days coming up with new lyrics for the girls and figuring out how to get the foot ball from fro the PE teacher at lunch time without having the pay the required holding fee in case the ball was kicked across the fence. One morning, he simply bought a ball, hid it in his bag and walked from class to class collecting money from the other boys to buy a ball. At lunch time when the boys were seeking permission to go ball shopping, Jon magically produced the ball. He had doubled his money.
Yup, Jon was slick; and always late for school. He had been warned that his parents would be sent for the next time he was late for school. So, I was prepared to hear his excuses when at 9am he walked into the classroom looking tired and forlorn. Jon walked straight up to my desk and sighed so loudly I am know the Virgin he had just bowed to as he walked to class heard him from her resting place in Glory.
“Good morning, Miss. Ah tiad you see.”
“Good moring, Mr. Smith. I am so sorry to hear. ”
“I know you are, Miss. You are a nice teacher.”
“What brings you here so late Jon? We had a conversation about it yesterday. Please don’t let me hear you were in Spanish Town idling as usual.”
“No man. Miss! Nutten like that at all. It’s not my fault today. I left my house right when mi madda sen mi out.”
It was my turn to let out a loud sigh. “Here comes the excuse” I thought to myself.
“So you should have been here a long time ago. What happened, Mr. Smith?”
“Miss, is the bus. I reach Trees from 6:30 dis morning but the driva dem don’t want take up students. I had to wait pon one of the new type of buses. You know, the articulate one…..the one that can talk? And…”
“Which bus Jon!?”
“You don’t know the new buses Miss. Dem say dem can talk. Dem articulate, Miss. They are di really long bus, Miss. The bus with the two parts and di miggle part pleat up? You don’t know them , Miss?”
“Oh…okay. The articulated bus. It means that the bus is joined, Jon.”
“Well, whatever you say. All I know is that dem really long.”
“What has the bus got to do with you being late, again?”
“Am getting to it, Miss. So I had to wait on the joined bus.” He emphasized the word joined and smiled sweetly at me. “But the wicked ductor say students can’t come on til the bus done load with the big people dem. So mi had to wait. When mi finally get on, mi end up in the back of the bus, Miss. I tried but I couldn’t get to the front.”
“Uh uh…”
“To make it worse, by dat time is was 7 a clock and so the traffic from Trees to Spain get bad. Dats why mi late.”
“I don’t get it, Jon. That does not explain why you are late.”
“Miss,…” (said with the patience used when speaking to small children or retards) “…the bus is very long and I was at the back of the bus, right?”
“Yes.”
“Because it is so long, the whole bus don’t get to Spain at the same time.”
“Really?”
“Really. With the traffic, making matters worse, the front of the bus reach 8:30 and the back of the bus reach 8:45. Then I had to catch a John’s Road taxi to get here. Ah luck mi lucky, mi reach jus in time fi catch a taxi whe did need only more person.”
After I picked half the class from off the floor, got the class back in order and gave Jon my most disappointed look, I sent him to his seat. There was nothing more I could say to him at that point.
Jon was a bright boy. Not with his classes, mind you. He was the kind of child who had a solution to every problem. I prayed every morning that he would apply some of the wit to the lessons his parents hoped would take him out of their homes and their pockets. Jon was happy; he could care less for books and CXC. He spent his days coming up with new lyrics for the girls and figuring out how to get the foot ball from fro the PE teacher at lunch time without having the pay the required holding fee in case the ball was kicked across the fence. One morning, he simply bought a ball, hid it in his bag and walked from class to class collecting money from the other boys to buy a ball. At lunch time when the boys were seeking permission to go ball shopping, Jon magically produced the ball. He had doubled his money.
Yup, Jon was slick; and always late for school. He had been warned that his parents would be sent for the next time he was late for school. So, I was prepared to hear his excuses when at 9am he walked into the classroom looking tired and forlorn. Jon walked straight up to my desk and sighed so loudly I am know the Virgin he had just bowed to as he walked to class heard him from her resting place in Glory.
“Good morning, Miss. Ah tiad you see.”
“Good moring, Mr. Smith. I am so sorry to hear. ”
“I know you are, Miss. You are a nice teacher.”
“What brings you here so late Jon? We had a conversation about it yesterday. Please don’t let me hear you were in Spanish Town idling as usual.”
“No man. Miss! Nutten like that at all. It’s not my fault today. I left my house right when mi madda sen mi out.”
It was my turn to let out a loud sigh. “Here comes the excuse” I thought to myself.
“So you should have been here a long time ago. What happened, Mr. Smith?”
“Miss, is the bus. I reach Trees from 6:30 dis morning but the driva dem don’t want take up students. I had to wait pon one of the new type of buses. You know, the articulate one…..the one that can talk? And…”
“Which bus Jon!?”
“You don’t know the new buses Miss. Dem say dem can talk. Dem articulate, Miss. They are di really long bus, Miss. The bus with the two parts and di miggle part pleat up? You don’t know them , Miss?”
“Oh…okay. The articulated bus. It means that the bus is joined, Jon.”
“Well, whatever you say. All I know is that dem really long.”
“What has the bus got to do with you being late, again?”
“Am getting to it, Miss. So I had to wait on the joined bus.” He emphasized the word joined and smiled sweetly at me. “But the wicked ductor say students can’t come on til the bus done load with the big people dem. So mi had to wait. When mi finally get on, mi end up in the back of the bus, Miss. I tried but I couldn’t get to the front.”
“Uh uh…”
“To make it worse, by dat time is was 7 a clock and so the traffic from Trees to Spain get bad. Dats why mi late.”
“I don’t get it, Jon. That does not explain why you are late.”
“Miss,…” (said with the patience used when speaking to small children or retards) “…the bus is very long and I was at the back of the bus, right?”
“Yes.”
“Because it is so long, the whole bus don’t get to Spain at the same time.”
“Really?”
“Really. With the traffic, making matters worse, the front of the bus reach 8:30 and the back of the bus reach 8:45. Then I had to catch a John’s Road taxi to get here. Ah luck mi lucky, mi reach jus in time fi catch a taxi whe did need only more person.”
After I picked half the class from off the floor, got the class back in order and gave Jon my most disappointed look, I sent him to his seat. There was nothing more I could say to him at that point.