Torture rack
He sat in the principal's office again. It was his seat. He wondered if anyone else ever sat in this same seat as much as him. He knew what he was sitting here for; he just didn't understand why.
Jeremy, a lanky hesh till death skateboarder, fumbled with his thumbs.
Mr. Batres entered the room. His thrift store blazer still had lint from the rack from where it came from. A sturdy man, Mr. Batres hardly showed leniency. He was firm but fair. Even with kids that knowingly mocked him for sporting an off black toupee for a whole week before calling it quits in shame. His pants were a size too big. He had to pull them up above his hips often as his dad bod diet lent itself to a pansa and pancake nalgas with no chansa. His knack for humility and understanding the value in such a thing was second to none.
"Mr. Bueno" he started "how are we today?" His eyes focused in on Jeremy.
Jeremy shrugged.
They were past the chit chat phase of acquaintances. These meetings had almost become a weekly thing.
Mr. Batres looked outside his window and into the nurse's office. Mrs. Lopez was tending to Sergio and although he was bleeding from his bottom lip, he seemed to be in a bit of a happy mood. It looked like the two were carrying on a conversation. For the most part, Sergio was tight lipped in class and at recess. Mr. Batres turned back toward Jeremy and crossed his arms.
"You know why we're here." Mr. Batres nodded.
Jeremy frowned as he nodded. He settled into the corner of the couch awaiting his inevitable lecture.
"You hurt him pretty bad. Cut his lip. His uniform is more red than royal blue." Mr. Batres tone never veered into harsh nor whiny.
Jeremy shrugged. He knew not to counter his point otherwise the lecture would go on and on and on.
"I know you know, just like everyone else does, that Sergio has Cerebral Palsy. He can't do most of the things that you can. His motor skills aren't as developed as yours are." Mr. Batres sighed.
Jeremy just nodded along.
Mr. Batres continued. "Ms. Hendricks said she saw you carrying him on your shoulders like Lex Luger?"
"The torture rack." Jeremy laughed. "Yeah. It's the WCW. It's the best."
Mr. Batres laughed too. He knew exactly what move he was doing. He imagined the two fifth graders grunting and laughing together. "You can't be doing those moves." He paused. "To anyone. Let alone Sergio."
The silent pause that followed let Mr. Batres and Jeremy understand the moment.
"I'm gonna have to give you a pink slip. I'm gonna call your mom, let her know your'e taking this to her." He looked at Jeremy. "Bring it back to me tomorrow. Please, Mr. Bueno."
Jeremy nodded and motioned toward the door.
Mr. Batres nodded slowly. "You can go now, Mr. Bueno."
As Jeremy opened the door, he shared his one thought.
"I think everybody treats him like a baby. I'm sure everyone at home does. I know everyone here does, too." he paused. "Just thought I'd kick his ass like everyone else." Jeremy shrugged as he left the room.
