Science Fiction for Young Readers, grade 4 up
Story by Terry Gibson ©

    In the morning, the news that Mr. Player 
had been fired spread among the kids.  
Tom-Tom and his buddies were clustered with 
younger kids sort of milling about; a bit 
of shoving... Tom-Tom hitched his pants 
upward by the pockets as he slouched against 
the wall of the school.  He had let Karl do 
the talking.  "My mom got it from the paper.
She said the reporter left out a lot."
     "Yeah."  A mocking laugh grew as it 
travelled around the group that circled 
them.  Rolph added, "They can't print all 
the dee-tails."
     "Well, they got him for it."  Karl 
agreed with his parents on that.
     So did Rolph.  "Sure yanked him out 
in a hurry too."  Another snicker and a bit 
of scuffling showed their approval.
     Karl grinned and with body-language, 
added, "Yeah, can't keep a perr-vert around 
in-no-cent kids."
     Tom-Tom heaved himself off the wall 
and in a pause, said, "He was fair too though."
     "Fair?"
     "Well, yeah.  Remember the pictures he 
found in my math notebook."
     "So?"
     "He didn't yell at me or anything.  He 
let me take all but one of the pages out of 
my book after we talked.  All the ones with 
names on them.  My dad only saw the first 
one."
     "Wow luck-yyy."
     "What did he do with them?  Rip them 
up?"
     "Worse than that, we sealed them into 
a big brown envelope with the date written 
on it, and something I had to promise, too."
     "You wrote the promise on the envelope?"
     "And signed it."
     Karl shook his head.  "So that's why 
you got quiet in class?"
     "Well, he kept that envelope locked up."
     "Oh-oh."
     "Told me it was not the art-work or 
the anatomy that was so bad, but putting 
people's names on them... Something about 
law..."
     "You don't wanna mess with that."
     "But what happens to the envelope now 
he's not around any more?  What if somebody 
else finds them!"


     We will leave them to ponder the 
hazards of bombs with signatures and look 
in on the girls who were definitely not 
rejoicing.  "I don't care," Sally said. 
"I wish he was still our teacher."  Many 
talked in low tones and with regret because
they liked him.
    Of course they blamed it all on Tabitha.

                          
    Akim heard it from Elsbeth later, and 
when he could, he passed on what he had 
heard to Tab and Gregory.  "They're glad 
that you're in trouble," he said, "For 
fighting.  Maria's not about to say that 
it had all been a play fight."
     "No one would believe it."
     "They didn't know we meant to help him."
Tabitha looked at her hands.  "We failed."
     Akim continued, "Elsbeth told me some 
things.  Maria says Tab attacked her.  
That's what she wrote in her statement to 
Mrs. MacPherson, and she won't change it,"
     "But we planned--"
     "Tab, I know we planned it, but if she 
lies about it--"
     "I hope Sally and Elsbeth wrote the 
truth." Greggy said.
     "So what did Elsbeth write?" Tab asked.
     "She didn't say."
     "Well," Tab thought a moment.  "What if 
they all lied?"
     "The teachers would say you're the one 
who is lying."
     "But if even one of the kids said we 
did it to help Mr. Player, they'd believe 
me.  Should I tell the truth?"
     Greggy was practical.  "It might be 
easier if we go along with the attack story. 
Get it over with."
     "But it's not true.  We'll get punished."
     "We'll get punished anyway."
     It left Tab still confused about what 
to do.  "One thing I know for sure," she  
said, "They'll be calling us into the 
office one by one so they can compare our 
stories."  That made it easy. "I think I'll 
stay with the truth."
     "Me too," Greggy agreed, just as the 
bell rang.  "It's easier to keep a story 
straight if you only have to remember what 
really happened."


     As they walked into the school, they 
heard kids talking about Do-It-Again Dooley.  
"Math is no fun anymore," Jillian said.
     "He never explains anything.  I mean--"
     "Yeah.  He just gives more pages to do."
     "I miss Mr. Player!" Laurie said.  "He 
always had time to stop and help you 
understand."
     "He'd stay in recesses if you wanted 
help.  And he didn't get mad if you couldn't 
do it."
     "Dooley does." 
     Tabitha heard it all but didn't get 
involved.  At their lockers, Tab thought of 
all the changes since that awful day at the 
swings. School was uggy now.  Just uggy!
     Math was a drag.  The kids had figured 
that if they pretended not to know how, 
"Do-it-Again" Dooley would keep them doing 
the same kind of stuff in class day after 
day.
     It had become a game: get him mad and 
he'd waste the period bawling them out, 
telling them how stupid they were....  
After a while the blasts got to be reruns 
and Tom-Tom mimicked his words right in 
class.  Tom-Tom spent a lot of his time out 
of the room, which is what he wanted.  No 
one could blame him if he failed then, 
could they?
     Sometimes Tab wondered if her classmates
liked any of their teachers at all.
     Even Creative Writing.  Longshanks 
hated her now.  It used to bother her, but 
now it didn't matter anymore.  Where she 
used to enjoy writing, now she did as little 
as she could get away with.  If a good idea 
came, she thought about it, enjoyed it, 
even, and took it home to explore in her
journal.  In class she'd write something 
else.  Something boring, just to fill the 
page.  Anything funny, she smiled to herself 
and left it out.  If she found a snappy 
ending, she used something more ordinary.
     Tabitha hated school.  But she'd get 
even,  Science Fair, she'd get even!

                         
     She'd have more reason to hate it when 
her mother said, "Tabitha, I had a call 
from your school.  I had no answer when 
they asked if you were on drugs."
     "Drugs!"
     "Your attitude has changed they said.  
From a keen student to one who does very 
little.  Has a flip attitude.  Withdrawn.  
The lies you tell... And now, fighting.  
Why didn't you tell me?"
     Tab quickly told her about the plan 
to get to the office and create a diversion 
when JP was in the meeting.  "It didn't do 
any good," she said.  "In fact it was one 
of our more stupid ideas."
     "Well, that's a new one all right.  
And the other complaints?  Are your marks 
really falling?"
     "I guess so but school is just so awful 
now."
     Her mother thought it over.  "Because 
they fired Jeremy Player?"
     "Yes, and because of the kids, because 
of Mr. Dooley, because they all hate me.
     "You're not on drugs?"
     "Absolutely not!"  Tab's eyes searched 
her mother's face for reassurance, and found 
it.
     "There's no evidence of it at home.  
I have to tell you my first reaction was 
outrage that they would even think that.  
But when they gave all the facts on which 
they based it, I have to admit that with 
anyone else, I'd have thought the same thing.  
Those are classic signs."
     "Of...?"
     "Of drug abuse."
     "Is that why they had the psychologist 
check me out?"
     "Probably.  You weren't cooperative, I 
hear."
     "It was stupid."
     "These people are there to help you."
     "By accusing me of being on drugs?"
     "No, by trying to talk with you about 
your problems--"
     "And not believing anything I say?"
     "No.  Trying to find what is wrong--"
     "I've solved my problems myself.  The 
kids are leaving us alone pretty well."  
She told about TERMINAL Tabby Disease, and 
how she pretended to be deaf, so they didn't 
get any fun out of her anger.  "Silently, 
keeping my face still, I'd say, to myself, 
'Stupid, stupid, stupid,' letting my 
thoughts drown out what they said.  And I 
always carried a book to read.  After a 
while they  quit trying."
     "Well, you seem to have handled it well."
     "Maybe, but now the teachers are saying 
that I am withdrawn, right?"
     "I see what you mean.  Can't win.  
Would you like to go to a different school?"
     "Can I?"
     "Yes, if you really want.  It'll be 
expensive and inconvenient to travel, but..."
     "Okay, but not this year anymore.  
Besides, I want to prove that Mr. Player is 
not guilty of all the things they're saying.  
Then they'll reverse it, won't they?"
     "You mean, hire him back on staff?"
     "Yes."
     "I don't think so.  Not in this town."
     "Why not?  He's innocent, and a 
wonderful teacher too."
     "Tabitha, I have some news for you.  
People will not think of his innocence when 
they look at him.  They will remember all 
the nasty things that people were saying.  
There have been innocent people convicted of 
murder because of gossip, and after many 
years in prison, DNA evidence proved they 
were not the ones who did it."
     "But what if they had been executed 
already?"
     "Too late then, Tabitha.  But no.  No,
I don't think he'll ever be able to teach 
again, even when you prove that the gossip 
was false.  If you can."
     "Mom, that's awful!"
     "I know.  But that's how people are.  
Kids should be very careful to tell only 
what is true."
     "But they think it's fun."  Many may
even have thought it was true, she thought.
     "Fun to take away a man's livelihood.  
But I suppose they didn't see that far ahead."
     "Their parents did."
     "Maybe, but they believed what their 
kids were saying.  Like I believe you.  You 
see?"
     "Not that it helps me much."
     "No.  So I guess I'll have to talk with 
the school about my terrible daughter eh?"
     "I'm sorry, Mom."
     "Don't worry.  It'll be all right.  
We always have the option of another school."
     "I wish Mr. Player did."

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