Carl sat in the back of the classroom paying more attention to Gina’s rhythmic tapping of her pencil upon the
desk next to his than to his English teacher, Mrs. Robert, who was giving a lecture on the components of a persuasive essay.
As the minutes until lunchtime dwindled past, more heads began to droop onto the smooth desktops. Carl’s eyes began
to hurt from staring at the whiteboard behind Mrs. Roberts, which seemed to have become annoyingly bright as the sunlight
streamed in from the window and illuminated it.
Sensing her students’ lack of interest in the topic, Mrs. Roberts continued with a little more enthusiasm. “The
key to writing a convincing persuasive paper is to know where you stand,” she emphasized. “There seems to be a
lack of passion here, and passion is essential in making an effective argument, or otherwise expressing a point of view in
any form. That’s your assignment for tonight. I want you to find an issue, one that you feel passionate about one way
or another, and then express your point of view. Write a poem, sing a song, make a collage, whatever you’d like. Just
make it provocative, you’ll be sharing these in class tomorrow.”
The students shuffled impatiently out the door into the open air of the courtyard as soon as the bell rang. While the
crowd continued on to the lunchroom, Carl and Gina slipped off to join some friends at their usual bench underneath a large
oak. The concrete bench was always cold to sit on; nevertheless it had been the bench they has sat on all year. They like
how it was out of the way from the noise of the lunchroom.
Jake and Travis were already engaged in a contest to see who could catch the most Cheetos in his mouth. Macy was playing
her guitar, as usual, laughing and missing a chord every time a Cheeto hit on e of them on the nose or eye.
Gina began discussing her ideas for the project immediately.
“I want to see someone break out in an interpretive dance or something,” she laughed.
“Only you’d think of something like that Gina,” Travis commented.
“Hey, I’m just trying to think of something different here. Do you know what you’re going to do Carl?”
“Not yet. I’ll probably put together some last minute collage on ‘freedom of speech’ or something,”
Carl replied.
Carl laughed it off, secretly pleased with the compliment, mostly because it came from Gina. He watched her while she
continued exploring other outlandish possibilities. He liked the way her dark eyes got bigger when she came up with each new
idea.
Carl went through the rest of the day like normal, the thought of the project still in the back of his mind. He hated
assignments like this where they had only one day to come up with something creative. He could draw and paint well enough,
but only when he was inspired. Otherwise his works turned out to be sloppy patches of color or disproportional sketches. His
potential and raw talent was obvious, he just lacked the incentive.
That was the case with most everything school-related. He passed all his classes with average grades and didn’t
have any major disciplinary problems. He showed up to class, but past that his mind was elsewhere, focused more on the song
he had stuck in his head or how he would go about drawing a certain thing that had caught his eye.
Passing through the main building after school meant walking past the same military recruiters that had been set up
there all year. They had a table covered with fliers depicting brave faces staring forward with determination and slogans
encouraging you to “Be All That You Can Be” and become an “Army of One”. Carl was waiting there to
meet Gina, whom he always walked home with.
Carl gazed at the table
like one would look at something they’ve become accustomed to seeing daily, only half-aware. He wondered, not for the
first, at how the faces had no trace of fear in their eyes. They certainly differed from the faces of those on the front pages
of newspaper and on the six o’ clock news. He watched a couple of juniors walk up and grab some stickers. In fact, he
spotted numerous military key chains and pins on student’s backpacks.
It finally struck him,
and he began grabbing one of each of the fliers. He didn’t notice Gina at first, but as he turned around he found himself
face to face with her. She began to giggle, her eyes brows raised.
“What was that about?” she probed as they went out the front doors. “Since when are you interested
in the military? You’re not gonna go all Gung-Ho on me, are you?”
Carl laughed at Gina’s attempt to look serious, which consisted of furrowed brows and slightly pouted lips. As
soon as he did her expression melted into her usual bright smile. “Seriously, what’s up?” she continued.
“Nothing. I was just curious, thought they’d be interesting,” he explained as if it wasn’t
anything important, just wanting to get off the subject. He knew Gina didn’t believe him, but she didn’t go any
further with it.
They continued talking, but Carl’s mind was still on the fliers and his project. HE wanted to share his idea
with Gina, but he knew whenever it came to something like this: anti-war messages, freedom and civil rights, anything you
could protest about; Gina could get pretty excited. Had she lived in the sixties, she would have been at the head of the marches,
sticking flowers in the barrels of guns.
Carl was amused by the image of Gina as a hippie, the long hair and flowers contrasting with her usual attire: lots
of black, vintage jackets with polka-dots or plaid, and dark hair that was always twisted or spiked up in some messy arrangement.
If not popular, her outgoing style and personality certainly made her well known. She’d even managed to be elected class
vice president last year.
Carl, on the other hand, was more laid back. He wore worn out band t-shirts and jeans and his shaggy hair was always
in his face. Gina often joked with him that he could pull off the Goth look, considering the contrast between his black hair
and pale skin. He even had the quiet, somewhat withdrawn persona to go with it.
“Are you okay?” Macy asked Carl as he arrived to school the next morning. “You look tired.”
He supposed he did look more tired than usual; he hadn’t got much sleep last night. “Yeah, I’m alright.
I just stayed up a little too late doing that project last night.” They laughed.
“Carl putting off sleep for homework, that’s a new one. What is it really? Did you run out of coffee this
morning?” Travis joked.
“Come on now, let’s not badger the sleep-deprived artist,” Gina said in a babying voice. “Let’s
see it thing.”
He pulled out his project. It was a collage, one half immediately recognizable as being made from the recruitment fliers
they had all seen innumerable times. The other half seemed to be made of mostly newspaper headlines and magazine clippings.
Most of the pictures on that half were of young soldiers, some bleeding, others simply with terrified looks on their faces
as scenes of bombings were shown in the background. Several headlines were of recent death tolls or continuing violence, yet
others read statements like “Recruiters Accused of Making False Promises”. After taking in all of the images in
the collage, they all glanced over at the recruiters across the room. The morning air was still to chilly to go outside, so
they huddled up in the crowded main building.
“How do you think they’d react to this?” Gina prompted, indicating the uniformed men showing off
their badges to a group of freshman guys. “I think you should show it to them.” Macy giggled excitedly and Jake
added: “That’d be worth a laugh.”
“I don’t think so, I don’t want to start anything, it’s just a project.”
“A project meant to make a point Carl,” Gina insisted. The morning bell rang.
“Oh, saved by the bell,” Travis said in a sing-song voice. They laughed. Carl found himself for once happy
to be pushed forward to class by the sea of students.
Nothing more was said about the collage until English. Carl wasn’t too surprised to see Gina actually doing an
interpretive dance.
When it came to his turn, Carl shuffled up to the front of the class and held his collage up. Immediately someone moaned
“Not another anti-war message.” A couple students laughed.
“This one’s different,” Gina responded.
“Go ahead Carl,” Mrs. Roberts encouraged.
“Ok, so, we see these recruiters here everyday. And they hand us fliers just like these here. The people in these
pictures, members of the military, they all look so proud and brave. I’m not saying serving your country isn’t
admirable, but they don’t show you all of it. They show you the glamorized aspect, but what about the kids going over
to Iraq? I bet you they don’t look so brave. I bet they’re damn scared,”
he said, getting really into it. A couple students laughed and nodded. “
“Me levanté a las dos está mañana porque mi cuarto estaba tan caliente. Abré una ventana
y volvé a mi cama y traté de adormecerme, pero no pudé. Había un gato fuera de mi ventana y el gato lloraba por muchas horas.
Fortunamente, recordé mi tarea. Tuvé un composicion que debé terminar está noche, pero no hacé. Fuí a mi computadora y lo
hacía cuando el luz posó. El electricidad había posado y mi composicion era perdido,” empezo a explicar.
“¿Asi acabas de venir tarde, dos horas despues escuela empezaba, y no tienes su tarea?
¿Porque estas aqui sin tu tarea, debes tener un excusa mejor además tu electricidad había posado a dos está mañana. Tuviste
tiempo a terminar,” mi professor dice.
“Pues, pensó que tuvé tiempo, asi empezé escribir mi composicion en papel, pero no pudé
ver bien asi no pudé escribir rapído. Cuando terminé, era ha cinco. Me bañé en la duche, pero cuando terminé no tuvé ropas
limpias, asi fuí a lavandería automática de mis apartamentos. Entonces la lavadora comió mi dinero, y tuvé que buscar por
más. Mientras la lavadora corría, eschuché mi autobús pasó,” contesto a él.
“Pudiste tomar el autobús próximo y veniste sólo un poco tarde. ¿Por qué no? Explica,”
mi professor continua.
“Iba a tomar el autobús próximo, pero el autobús no vinó. Empecé a caminar. Mientras estaba
caminando, el autobús próximo pasó. Llamé “¡Espera! ¡Termina!” pero no terminó. Continué a caminar hasta vine
a la casa de mi amiga. Mi amiga ha estaba en escuela, pero su hermana mejor no tenía que ir a escuela hasta siete, asi ella
estaba en su casa. Fui a su casa y pregunté ella a manejarme a escuela. Mientras ella estaba manejando, escuchábamos a su
radio. Una vox empezo hablar sobre un grupo de musíca “Los pollos con uno ojo”. “Los pollos con uno ojo”
fueron a tener un concerto, y uno persona puede ganar dos boletos si vinó a su estacion primero. Ella era un fanatico de el
grupo, y quiso ganar los boletos, asi empezo a acelerar. Vinamos primero y ganamos los boletos, asi era alegra. El grupo de
musica estaba allí, asi presentaron a manejarme a escuela.” Explico.
“¿“Los pollos con uno ojo” te manejaron a escuela? ¡No te mientras! ¡Soy un
fanatico de el grupo tambien! Voy a excusarte, pero sólo esta una vez.”
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