Tuesday, September 27, 2005
002 The Senior High Kids
The seventh graders had their lockers all the way down the hall close to the emergency doors. The seniors had their lockers all the way up by the school offices.
Opposite ends, Bruce thought gloomily the next morning as he stuffed his lunch bag into the top shelf of his locker.
He pulled down his Algebra book, slammed the locker closed, turned around, and slammed face first into a chest like a brick wall. He bounced back. Dave Wilson and his best friend, Dennis Fifer, were glaring down at him. They were both star basketball players, and over the last couple years they had become incredibly hairy. They looked very hairy at the moment. And all their hair was standing on end, like hackles rising on two bulldogs.
"Here's the kid who read his Bible in nine weeks," Wilson said. "Before the Seniors had a chance."
"Yeah, like, and we got Calculus and Literature, so how are we supposed to have a chance?" Fifer asked to nobody in particular.
"You take calculus?" Bruce asked, amazed. He had always thought Fifer to be a little slow and a little dense. More like an anvil than a firefly.
"I never said I took calculus!" Fifer yelled. "I'm on the basketball team. I'm too busy as it is."
"You never read the Bible in nine weeks!' Wilson snapped. He tapped Bruce right on the sternum, with a hard flick of the forefinger released from the thumb. It felt like a bullet hitting him.
"Yes I did. Ask me anything." Bruce made his eyes as big and sincere as he could. His only hope was that they would think he really was some sort of Bible scholar in the making. Among the older kids, there was clearly one set of kids who cared about God and one set who did not. But usually both sets would leave alone anybody who was the real thing. It wasn't the best Christian school in the world, but they had that much.
Wilson was waiting for this challenge. "Who was Hosea's wife?"
"Gomer," Bruce gasped.
Fifer was startled. His mouth made a perfect O of amazement. "No! Like that old TV show?"
"Shut up!" Wilson snapped. "Then who was their son?"
"Jezreel," Bruce said. This was ridiculous, To prepare for all of the quizzes he had written down all the people's name on index cards and memorized them. He would know these answers even if he had not read the Bible. But he kept his eyes big and inoffensive.
Defeated for the moment, Wilson stepped back. He squinted at Bruce, trying to decide if Bruce was too godly to beat up on principle, or if he was just a smart aleck seventh grader who needed to be taught his place.
"You never seemed like such a good Christian to me, Farris!" he exclaimed.
"Well," Bruce gasped. "We're all sinners."
Wilson suddenly thrust his rough, semi-shaved face into Bruce's. "There's a Bible Drill in the auditorium after lunch today, and you'd better win. If you get one wrong answer, we're gonna put you through the basketball hoop outside--head first!"
Both of the seniors strode away. Bruce realized that Harlowe was standing right next to him. Fifer had been blocking him. Harlowe's eyes were huge, for real. "You'd better tell," he gasped.
"I'll ask Rachel Holstein to talk to them," he said. "They're only mad because she started to cry yesterday."
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Opposite ends, Bruce thought gloomily the next morning as he stuffed his lunch bag into the top shelf of his locker.
He pulled down his Algebra book, slammed the locker closed, turned around, and slammed face first into a chest like a brick wall. He bounced back. Dave Wilson and his best friend, Dennis Fifer, were glaring down at him. They were both star basketball players, and over the last couple years they had become incredibly hairy. They looked very hairy at the moment. And all their hair was standing on end, like hackles rising on two bulldogs.
"Here's the kid who read his Bible in nine weeks," Wilson said. "Before the Seniors had a chance."
"Yeah, like, and we got Calculus and Literature, so how are we supposed to have a chance?" Fifer asked to nobody in particular.
"You take calculus?" Bruce asked, amazed. He had always thought Fifer to be a little slow and a little dense. More like an anvil than a firefly.
"I never said I took calculus!" Fifer yelled. "I'm on the basketball team. I'm too busy as it is."
"You never read the Bible in nine weeks!' Wilson snapped. He tapped Bruce right on the sternum, with a hard flick of the forefinger released from the thumb. It felt like a bullet hitting him.
"Yes I did. Ask me anything." Bruce made his eyes as big and sincere as he could. His only hope was that they would think he really was some sort of Bible scholar in the making. Among the older kids, there was clearly one set of kids who cared about God and one set who did not. But usually both sets would leave alone anybody who was the real thing. It wasn't the best Christian school in the world, but they had that much.
Wilson was waiting for this challenge. "Who was Hosea's wife?"
"Gomer," Bruce gasped.
Fifer was startled. His mouth made a perfect O of amazement. "No! Like that old TV show?"
"Shut up!" Wilson snapped. "Then who was their son?"
"Jezreel," Bruce said. This was ridiculous, To prepare for all of the quizzes he had written down all the people's name on index cards and memorized them. He would know these answers even if he had not read the Bible. But he kept his eyes big and inoffensive.
Defeated for the moment, Wilson stepped back. He squinted at Bruce, trying to decide if Bruce was too godly to beat up on principle, or if he was just a smart aleck seventh grader who needed to be taught his place.
"You never seemed like such a good Christian to me, Farris!" he exclaimed.
"Well," Bruce gasped. "We're all sinners."
Wilson suddenly thrust his rough, semi-shaved face into Bruce's. "There's a Bible Drill in the auditorium after lunch today, and you'd better win. If you get one wrong answer, we're gonna put you through the basketball hoop outside--head first!"
Both of the seniors strode away. Bruce realized that Harlowe was standing right next to him. Fifer had been blocking him. Harlowe's eyes were huge, for real. "You'd better tell," he gasped.
"I'll ask Rachel Holstein to talk to them," he said. "They're only mad because she started to cry yesterday."
