Sebastian 03

Sebastian: Chapter 3

By the time we’d gone through all the formalities and got me situated it was almost 10 am. Because they only have the one public school for the whole city, they ran classes in two shifts. One in the morning, and one in the afternoon. I would only have to endure 2 more hours. There was only one English teacher, Mrs. Huber, she taught grades 6 through 12. So every class was a different age and ability. Each class lasted 50 minutes. I felt like I could make it through ok.

The bell ending that class rang. As everyone dashed out of the classroom, Mrs. Huber stopped me and asked me to stay behind for a minute. She asked me a bit about myself, what dad and I were doing here just the basics. It was nice, she actually spoke English fairly well, nothing like my Spanish teacher back home. I think she’d gone to Mexico once and that was her qualification.

“In between classes there’s a 10 minute break, your welcome to sit here and talk to me or you can go out to the courtyard. Just try to be back on time. I’m cutting you some slack today but starting tomorrow I would like to start using you to help my students. You’re being here is a unique opportunity for them to learn from someone that has spoken English since birth. Is that going to be okay with you?”

I shrugged “why not” but I didn’t feel like it was okay. I felt like I was going to be on display like an animal in the zoo. I started feeling a little claustrophobic. I asked to be excused and went out to the courtyard to catch some fresh air.

I sat down on the bench, took a few deep breaths to calm down a bit, and started looking around. The courtyard was full of kids standing in groups, or walking from one class to another. Everyone I looked at seemed to be glancing or pointing in my direction, and I noticed a lot of the girls giggling. It was probably just my imagination, but that didn’t help me feel any less insecure, just what a guy with a complex needed.

I got up and ducked back into the classroom just as quickly as I’d left it. I grabbed a seat in the very back and sat there as quietly as I could, hoping I wouldn’t be noticed. Of course the teacher had to introduce me at the beginning of the last 2 classes. I didn’t understand a word of what she said, but I knew she was talking about me being there as an opportunity for them. Each time she called me up I could feel the heat rising up the back of my neck, there was more giggling from the girls, and it was all I could do to make it back to my seat.

This wasn’t what I’d hoped for when they told me I would just be in English class. I’d really hoped I could just sit in the back and concentrate on trying to learn Spanish from them. I had no clue how I was going to help anyone. I’ve never taught anything and the thought of being put into that sort of interaction scared the shit out of me.

The last class of the day was full of kids my age, and for some reason that seemed to embarrass me even more than the earlier ones. I realized that sooner or later, these would be my peers in other classes. I felt so alone and helpless at that moment. I couldn’t figure out a way to communicate with any of them and I figured by the time I could that it would be too late. Their first impressions of me would be made, and I’d be a loner once again. It was a shock to admit to myself that I really had been lonely back home, and that I’d held out some hope that I could almost start over and be normal here. After all nobody knew anything about me, and there was no way in hell they could know my secret right? So all I had to do was keep that part of me hidden, and I could be normal. Hell I could even find a girl to date and nobody would even think “that” of me.

When the class ended I waited until everyone else was gone, then trudged my way out to the courtyard again. It was still cold so I put my coat back on and dug into my backpack for the lunch I’d brought with me. I was eating my sandwich when I realized that a lot of people were not just glancing at me but downright staring at me. Looking around I tried to figure out what I’d done to warrant such attention. It slowly dawned on me that no one else was eating. I thought back on the day and realized there wasn’t even a cafeteria here. I thought I’d been smart to bring my lunch so I wouldn’t have to try to ask for something, continuing the thought process brought me to the other reason school let out at noon. Everyone from the morning must go home to eat and the others ate before coming to school.

My throat dried so fast I almost chocked on the bite of sandwich that I’d just finished swallowing. I forced it down, threw my lunch back in my backpack and got up to leave as quickly as I could. I made it to the exit, when a kid my age stepped in front of me. I recognized him from my last English class. He towered over me, at least six inches taller than my 5’5”. He was athletically built, like someone who was active but not someone who lifted weights all the time. And he was very cute. He had the dark hair, eyes and olive complexion I’d expected everyone here to have. His face was clear of blemishes.

I looked up at him then quickly looked back down and tried to sidestep him to leave. Shit its starting here now, I was used to being a target, but I’d sure hoped it would be different here. He stepped to block my path and all I could do was breath out a resigned sigh. I hung my head and waited for the inevitable.

He said something to which I responded with my three favorite words, “No hablo Español”

“I said hi, not hola”

It took a second for what he’d said to enter my brain and another second for me to process it. I raised my head to find him smiling at me, definite amusement written all over his face.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t hear you, hi yourself”

“It ok you probably no think it” his English wasn’t perfect then, but he was talking to me and I understood him, and even better he wasn’t going to use me to elevate his standing as class bully.

“My name Enrique, people say me Ricky” he held his hand out to me.

“My name is Sean, nice to meet you”

He looked at me with his brow furrowed. I’d later come to recognize that as what he did when he was concentrating intently on something. His brow smoothed out and the smile returned.

“Ah, it nice to meet you, same”

Okay so his English wasn’t all that good at all, but it was the most I’d conversed with someone besides my dad and Señora Huber since I’d arrived. On second thought it was almost the most I’d conversed with someone since we’d moved 6 years earlier.

“You go your house?”

“Yes, my house is that way” I pointed up the street.

“Oh? Me same, I walk with?”

“Sure”

The relief finally overwhelmed me and I started giggling.

He looked at me funny again. I bit my tongue to stop giggling, shrugged and we left the school. Turns out he lives around the corner from me. We fell into an easy friendship, and all that winter we spent as much time together as possible. We had a tacit agreement, whenever we weren’t in public or with someone else I spoke as much Spanish as possible as I learned it, with him correcting every error I made, and in return he spoke all English, with me correcting his errors. I never felt bad or discouraged when he corrected me and I know he felt the same.

When I got home that night, dad had left me a note, saying he was going to dinner with some clients and that I was on my own. With the note was a 5 peso bill. I didn’t have a clue as to what to do about dinner. I was tossing ideas around when I heard his voice again. This time yelling what sounded like:

“¡Empanadas! ¡Churrós!”

I had no idea what he was saying. But I hurried outside hoping for just a glimpse of him. He was next door, with a large basket hanging on his arm. He looked exactly like he had that morning, maybe more tired but he still took my breath away. He was putting something on a plate the lady next door had with her. She slipped him some money and he turned to walk towards my house. I ran inside to grab a plate and hurried down to the sidewalk to wait for him.

When he saw me he got an impish grin on his face and said:

“¿Querés empanadas?”

“No hablo Español.”

His grin morphed into a huge smile as he said something else. It sounded like what he had said that morning but I still had no idea what it was.

“No hablo Español” I repeated and held my plate out.

He could barely contain his laughter as he was putting empanadas on the plate. When there were 6 there I stopped him and gave him the 5 pesos. Once again he tried to give me some change but I waved him off. If his smile could have gotten any bigger it would have split his face in half.

“Gracias”

“De nada,” hey I’d learned 2 more words that day.

He looked at me for a bit and I wasn’t about to turn away from him. Then once again I saw that transformation from a smiling happy kid, to the dejected wretch. And once again I felt like my heart was being ripped out. He shuffled off. I went in to eat whatever it was he’d sold me, and hey they turned out to be excellent. I thought if he sells these every day, Ill be a regular. The day’s events had worn me out so I called it an early night and crawled into bed. After all I had to be up at 530 to get the paper. I smiled to myself as I fell asleep.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

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