School of Two Thousand Smiles–Chapter Fourteen

SAM SUPPORTS DANNY'S CLASS REVELATION

SAM

Helen came to our home for dinner on Sunday evening and met Michelle, three-year-old Barry, and our baby, Michelle. She shared all about her family back in DC with us. I enjoyed our visit, and she said she would keep in touch with us and stay up to date on Danny and his family from her office at the FBI headquarters in Washington. She also said that she was going to look for a K-12 school like Two Thousand Smiles, and if she couldn’t find one, she would start the wheels rolling to establish one. She was very impressed with the warmth, nurturing, and involvement of everyone here in our county.  

As I stood near the Yodelers and glanced at my watch. I thought of Helen, who would be boarding her flight back to DC. It was good to have a friendly face there. I watched Danny walk his older sister to her second-grade classroom and was pleased that they both waved at me as they walked by. Danny looked happy and relaxed and validated the reason I’d given Georgia, our principal, for putting in all this time to help him and his family. I didn’t need permission to support the family; I just needed to keep her informed. When I started teaching about 15 years ago, I almost had to ask for permission to go to the restroom. This new, informal, and truly human way of running a school was far better in every way.

Everyone in my cohort was seated by the time Danny got back from escorting his sister to her room. As soon as Danny was sitting, I addressed the entire group: “I am now able to tell you all more about our newest cohort member, Danny, and even tell you his real last name. He has a fascinating story about why he is at our school. First, because Danny’s story is quite long, is there anyone who has a rather urgent experience they would like to share with us? Ella held up her hand and said, “I just want to tell you, Sam, and all of you, that it was an honor and a pleasure to help Danny and his family move into an apartment here near Two Thousand Smiles.” Both Danny and I smiled and nodded.

“Anyone else?” I looked around, and no one had a hand up, so I nodded to Danny and said, “So, Danny, tell us your story.”

Danny looked around, made eye contact with everyone, and began, “First, I want to thank Ella and Sam for all their help. Sam had contacted an FBI friend in Washington, D.C, and she found three other FBI agents, and they rescued my mom and my two little sisters, who were kinda in prison in the horrible house where our dad had held us captive in the little town of Flowers, Mississippi. To give you some idea of how we all lived there, I’ll tell  you about the first time we tried to escape about a year and a half ago.” He then told us about how they – his mom, two sisters, and he - took the bus to Memphis, and instead of finding a new life, they discovered their awful dad waiting for them in Memphis. When he brought them back home, he beat their mom up and threw her down the stairs, and she had to go to the hospital. He ended that part of his story by saying, “That all happened in early February when dad was at a meeting in Jackson, the state capital. After she got out of the hospital, Dad made me stay home and help Mom. Dad didn’t want anyone outside the family to know how badly Mom was hurt. Also, he didn’t want to pay anyone to help Mom. Anyway, I missed the rest of the school year, and I flunked. That’s why I’m twelve and in the fifth grade. Oh, and that’s okay, cuz I like you all.” Joe Jackson raised both hands above his head like a boxer who just won a match. Joe is really a wonderful kid to have in class, as he helps all of us feel a bit lighter.

Before Danny continued, Joe asked, “Danny, why didn’t you or someone stop your dad?”

“My dad is the law in Flowers – our little town of a few hundred people who are scared to death of him. If anyone does anything he doesn’t like, he throws them in jail. I even saw him kill my very own grandpa.” Everyone in the cohort gasped. Chris uttered out loud, “Oh, my god.” Followed by similar utterances of others. ”Oh, unbelievable,” “Damn,” more “Oh my gods, and on and on; and finally, Ella’s, “My god, Danny, how did you escape and get to San Diego?”

Danny told them about Bubba Wilson and his getting beaten up by Danny’s dad, Robert E. Lee, and that was the crime that allowed the FBI to obtain a warrant to arrest his dad. Danny continued, “And the FBI in Mississippi, this last Friday, went to the house to fetch mom, and they had to taser and tie up two guys who dad had hired to guard mom and the girls to make sure they didn’t try to escape again. Anyway, the guards had called dad, who was at the football game, and told him someone was prowling around the house and to come home. So Ratso, that’s my name for dad, came to the house, and the FBI was waiting for him. When Ratso pulled his gun, they tasered him before he could pull the trigger. He was standing at the top of the stairs, and when he was tasered, he began to fall and fell sideways down those damnable stairs. He must have held up his gun hand because he shot himself in the neck before he fell.”

As Danny told everyone about the horror back in Mississippi, he spoke so clearly that he sounded as if he had been there and seen it firsthand. I’m sure the scene is burned into his young mind. He ended his narration with, “And I’m glad the son-of-bitch is dead.” He looked around the room as if he dared anyone to contradict him or tell him he was bad for thinking that and calling his dad a sob. Everyone sat quietly, crying, and looked like they were holding their breath. I believe he needed to tell this story to such a warm and supportive group. I could never have told a story like this to my elementary school classmates in the bad old days when I was a kid. I glanced at my watch and was surprised to notice that Danny took up nearly the entire first hour. I said, “Okay, it’s almost the end of our first period, so let’s take a break. And Danny, thank you for being so beautifully brave and telling us about you and your family’s story.” After our break, I continued to be amazed at the mature way Danny handled the questions about how he managed to get away from Ratso, talk Bubba into giving him a ride, and then find a place to stay in our county. He sounded like he was at least fifteen or even eighteen rather than twelve. At the end of our session, Ella said. “I’d like to commend Danny for his courage and strength to do all he has done and for saving his mom and sisters.”

49 

Everyone in the class, including me, clapped. I went over to Danny and said, “Please stay a minute, I have some news for you.” I motioned for him to sit down close to me. “Clair Danley just called to tell me that your mom has already been through the necessary surgery to straighten her leg. She was in a great deal of pain, but Clair said she was very cooperative with the doctor and hospital staff. The surgery was necessary to relieve the pain and allow her to walk without pain. They had to give her a general anesthetic because they had to re-break the leg and put a new cast on it. Clair said she is still asleep and will need to stay in the hospital tonight and perhaps another day or two. She said you and the girls should stay here at the school for the entire school day, then visit your mom. Clair will send her assistant in a county car. She said I should tell you because she looks so young, but she is safe to take you and the girls to the hospital. Okay?” Danny nodded and looked very disturbed. I added, “What’s the matter, Danny. You look sad or worried.”

“I’m just angry at myself for not having done a better job of fixing mom’s broken leg before I put all those ace bandages around it.” His face filled with tears, and he rather haltingly said, “Mom started walking in pain and with a limp after we failed to get away that time in Memphis. And I’m sure he beat her again and made it worse after Ratso thought she had something to do with me getting away. After Memphis, Ratso started hitting me when I yelled at him that we needed to take Mom to the hospital. He said, ‘That deceitful little bitch doesn’t deserve a hospital. And you are going to take care of her. Now shut the hell up. And with that, he slapped me so hard my ears rang for a week. I’m so damned sorry I didn’t do better with the leg.” I think my anger at Ratso matched Danny’s.

By three-thirty, Danny’s tears had dried up, and a new-looking SUV with the San Diego County Social Services logo on the door pulled up in front of the school. A perky young woman, who looked to be about Danny’s age, got out. I was standing near the front entrance, and the girl put out her hand and said, “Hi, I’m Jan Hastings, and you must be Mr. Sam Collins.” She looked over my little crowd and, with a rather delightful smile, added, “And you must be Danny, Susan, and Jacque Sherman-Lee.” She said, “One of you can sit in front with me if you like. I thought that the little trio increasingly looked relaxed as they began their second evening in their ‘new’ apartment. Jan Hastings seemed to have the right personality to be their babysitter. By the way they all talked, she was the exact opposite of the kind of adults they experienced in Flowers. 

School of Two Thousand Smiles–Chapter Thirteen

DANNY HUGS HIS MOM AND SISTERS

DANNY

I embarrassed myself by yelling, "Mommy!" When I saw her step off the train behind a well-dressed and attractive young woman, I guessed it was Helen. Mom was so surprisingly well-dressed. If her face weren't so bruised and beaten-up-looking, she would look like someone I'd never seen before. She had on new tan slacks, a rose-colored blouse, and an attractive little hat. Helen helped her down from the last step as if Mom were a crippled old lady. She was a crippled young lady, and I felt sure she was still recovering from a severe beating from Ratso for letting me run away. She reached back to help Jacque down the steps while still holding Helen's hand. Helen let go of Mom's hand, picked Jacque up, and placed her on the tarmac.

Susan looked perky and very alive as she stood on the last step. She spied me and yelled, "Danny!" I rushed over and picked her up, and we hugged. It was then that Mom and Jacque saw me and came over, joining us in the hug. We stayed as if glued together for I don't know how long, and it felt soooo good. The girls were dressed in wonderfully pretty girl clothes. The last time I saw them dressed so nicely was at Susan's kindergarten graduation. I had been holding both girls as we hugged, and I set them down and introduced them to Clair and Sam.

Helen had climbed back on the train to pick up two medium-sized suitcases, and when she stepped down from the train car, I introduced her to Sam and Clair. Clair said, "We've talked so much on the phone, I feel we already know one another, and you know Sam from way back to graduate school, is that right?" I felt a bit stupid for not knowing that, but then how could I have—I needed to learn how to be around ordinary people, especially adults. 

I heard Helen tell Sam, "I volunteered to accompany this family to California so I could see you again after all these years. I think everyone who was with me in the rescue would have been willing to do it." She looked around, and I could see that they were a bit of a distance from us, but I could hear her as she whispered, "They are a very brutalized little group. The mother is still limping from the beating she took for letting Danny run away. Oh, and she also 'fell' down the stairs."

I knew it: the cruel bastard "punished" Mom for not being like him. I heard Clair ask Helen something about the hospital, and Helen said, "Not right away." Clair wanted to know if Mom should be taken to the hospital right then. Sam said, "I'm hungry, and I'm guessing all of you travelers are too, right?" Susan and Jacque nodded, and Mom frowned and muttered something about being too much trouble. Sam responded, "No, Marge." When Sam saw Mom's startled look, he added, "Danny gave me your name. And I want you to know that I don't think you were much trouble then, and believe me, you are NOT in a lot of trouble now, nor will you be in the future. Welcome to California. I want you to know there is a very nice restaurant just a few blocks away. Would that be okay?"

Susan was surprisingly forward, "Anything, I'm starved. Can we have fish?"

"I was just going to ask if a seafood restaurant was okay. Fishes are seafood, aren't they?" Sam turned to Jacque, who just shrugged her shoulders and hid behind Mom. Susan smiled a little and looked up at him and muttered, "You're funnin' us, ain't you?" Sam nodded and tried to touch her on the shoulder, and she backed away. Both Sam and Clair brought cars to the train station. Since it had been over a month since I had seen Mom and the girls, I chose to ride with them in the same car.  We climbed into Clair's car – Mom and the girls in the back seat, and I got in the front with Clair.

When we got to Seaport Village, I guessed that Susan had become the spokesperson for the threesome, and she asked Clair, "Who are you, and why are you and Mr. Sam helping us?

Before she could answer, Sam said, "Susan, you can just call me Sam. I like that better than Mr. Sam, but if it makes you feel better, that's okay too. I'm doing it because I like your brother, Danny, and I'm one of his teachers at the school he goes to— the same one I hope you'll go to too. I teach a small group class called human development. The group is called a cohort, and I'm called a Tatar – that's short for facilitator." Susan crinkled her face when she heard 'Tatar' and 'facilitator', and Sam added, 'I lead that small fifth-grade class.' You'll have a cohort, or group, in your grade as well. I know your Tatar, and she's really nice." 

We arrived at Seaport Village, a pier on San Diego Bay with several restaurants. Because it was Sunday, Clair said that it was busier than usual. The receptionist gave Sam a little pancake-shaped thing with a light in the middle. It was supposed to ring and light up when they had a big table for us. We walked around the restaurant on a bridge-like walkway. It was the first time I had been there, and I was as amazed as Suzan was. Jacque and Mom stayed back from the railing for fear of falling into the bay or something. There was a humongous ship across the bay, and Sam told us it was an aircraft carrier. I had read about navy ships in a book back in Flowers, but I never thought I'd ever see any of them. The bay was a fantastic place. Sam's little pancake gadget went off, and we stumbled into the restaurant. Clair very kindly described the various seafood dishes to us. The only one that we knew anything about was catfish, so all four of us ordered catfish and French fries.

After eating, we were joined by Gary, Ella's dad, and headed out to the 'new' apartment. Gary told Mom and us kids we could stay with his family for the first night in California if they preferred. Mom looked at me, and I said, "I'm sure we will be okay in the apartment. Clair said that she and her friend had purchased silverware, dishes, sheets, blankets, and everything they thought they would need to set up housekeeping. But thank you very much." Gary nodded, okay. Ella said she would get off the tram at our stop and walk with us in the morning.

Mom seemed to get weaker as the day went on. Clair urged her to go with her to the doctor in the morning, and Mom reluctantly muttered that she would. After we went into the apartment, and Mom saw the new widescreen TV, she showed more emotion than she had since she first arrived and seen me. She seemed to be okay with sharing the bedroom with me, and we all went to bed early. I felt more relaxed than at any time since I left Flowers, or maybe ever. 

In the morning, after breakfast, I called Bubba Watson in San Antonio. I told him about what happened to Ratso, and he said, "Just what the bastard deserved. Damn him." I told him about how the FBI had handled the raid on the house in Flowers, and he replied, "That's the best damn thing I've ever heard about that bunch." I asked him how he was doing, and he said he was a lot better and that his daughter in Denver had invited him to stay with her family for a while. That lifted his spirits, he said.

Ella and her five-year-old sister, Angie, came to the apartment at the same time Clair arrived to take Mom to an urgent care clinic. That was helpful because Jacque said she had to stay with her mommy, and Clair kindly insisted that Mom needed to see the doctor alone, and she would take good care of her mommy. Mom kept unconvincingly insisting that Jacque go to school.  I think Jacque was intrigued to find Angie, her exact same size, also going to school with us. Susan, three years older, was a bit scared but was glad that Ella was going with us. Ella took Angie's hand, Gary took Susan's, and I took Jacque's. Seeing Ella's dad joining in the celebration made me think of Ratso. He would condemn Gary as a homo sissy. I didn't have any idea what a 'homo' was, but I knew it was someone horrible.  Both girls seemed puzzled by the humongous, mixed-age, mixed-ethnicity group gathered at the playground. Susan softly said to me, "This is the school, isn't it? It is so weird." 

The pleasant girl's voice began to address them on the loudspeaker, "Welcome, all you wonderful imagineers, to our second week of classes. This week, our music will be provided by the Sophomore class's Yodelers. We were serenaded with some hip-hop music I'd never heard before, and everyone, including Ella's dad, started jumping and singing. I took Susan's hand, and she took Jacque's, and Jacque took Ella's. I was so glad to see both girls, especially Jacque, begin to enjoy themselves and emerge from their cocoons. I'd have to tell Ella how helpful it was to me to hear that we all needed to be like the butterfly that emerges from a cocoon.

When the singing and dancing stopped, Gary and Angie took Jacque's hands and headed to the kindergarten room. I was surprised that Jacque let them and even smiled a little. Ella and I took Susan's hand, and she gave us a big smile. We were joined by another second-grade girl who would be her guide for the week, as Ella had been my guide last week. Susan said to me, "Wow, Danny, this sure is different from Flowers, and I already like it a hundred times better. Even Jacque began to like the new school. Ella and her family were really helpful. I couldn't think of any family in Flowers that we had gotten to know well enough to ask for help.

School of Two Thousand Smiles–Chapter Ten

DANNY FINDS HE CAN ENJOY SCHOOL

DANNY

I woke up this morning feeling better than I’ve felt in my life. Most importantly, having all these people at the FBI working to find a way to help me get Mom and the girls away from Ratso. And having a teacher help us is so good.  Second, for the first time in my life, I’m looking forward to school – especially to see Sam and Ella. 

It seemed like Sam was waiting just for me when I stepped off the tram in front of Two Thousand Smiles. I think Mom would tell me I was sinning by feeling proud that I was important enough to have a teacher waiting to see me, and that teacher is really smiling when he sees me. I’m beginning to think that mom is wrong on this — and on lots of things—especially about the husband being the head of the house. My head is swimming with lots of good thoughts, and I really like that. 

Sam held a guitar in both hands and gently handed it to me, and said, “Ella said you needed a guitar, and here is one you can borrow until it can find an owner. It was in the school’s storeroom. I will probably call you this evening with the rest of the Danny team, so until then, have another good wacky day.” He patted me on the shoulder. I really liked it that Sam called all the people helping me, ‘Danny’s team’. I turned around just as Ella arrived. I held up the guitar and thanked her for telling Sam about my need.  

She replied, “So, I hope you can join us tomorrow after school. Did you get off the tram?” I nodded. “I guess you were in the other car. I usually sit in the second car, so join me there if you want to.” Ella seemed a little nervous about inviting me to be with her. I told her I’d go to the second car tomorrow, and she relaxed as she gave me a little card with her phone number and text number and said, “Call me if you can’t join me, because I would worry. Our class is having a science class first period and now…” 

The music from the Ragamuffins started, and Ella again dragged me over to meet her dad and see her little sister. The music had just started, so I could only shake hands with her dad, who had a little darker skin than Ella. He was a handsome guy in jeans and a pinkish polo shirt.  Angie, the kindergartner, had a big, welcoming smile and reached up, taking one of my hands and Ella’s other hand. We started the day with a song that seemed everyone knew but me, that started with “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah, zip-a-dee-ay, my oh my, what a wonderful day.” I learned later that it was another really old song from the last century. I’m sure the old, grumpy people in my super sober Mississippi school would condemn all this as a complete waste of time because education is serious business. I’m sure I was more open to learn something after the wake-up singing and dancing than I was after my old sour march into the school building with a bunch of grouchy teachers and sad-looking kids. After more dancing and singing, I was glad that Ella’s dad was really enjoying himself and singing along with everybody else. When the music stopped, he held out his hand and said, “You must be Danny. I’m Mark Haloran, and Ella has told her mom and me that you are a refugee from our most conservative state. I’m happy to meet you, and I hope Ella has been a pleasant guide.” 

I nodded and replied, “Yeah, she’s really helped me a lot. This school is so different from back home. It’s like being released from prison and being thrown into a fun garden.” I was surprised that I called Flowers, ‘back home’. I never wanted to go back there in my life. Just thinking about it made me all tighten up. 

Angie piped up, “And I like you, Danny, even if you do talk funny.” All three of us laughed. Mark took Angie’s hand, and he let her lead him to her classroom. Ella and I headed to our big classroom and were greeted by a young man who looked like he’d just graduated from high school. He introduced himself as Josh Speers and informed us that he had just graduated from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and had a Ph.D. in Physics, so he could be called Dr. Speers, but was fine with Josh. He was also a graduate of Two Thousand Smiles. I had even heard of MIT and knew it was considered one of the best universities in the world. He told us that he volunteered to teach at our school as part of his two-year community service, which all young people, male and female, must complete after graduating from high school or college. He concluded by saying, “Eventually, I want to work in Kenya, Africa, where my mother is from. I’m still learning their language, and I thought I’d learn how to teach at a school like this one. So, you are all going to help me to become a teacher. Are you okay with that?” We all clapped and yelled, “Yes, Great, We’re the best…” and other positive and boisterous comments. 

Josh said that he wanted to get into microbiology and physics. He went on to tell us that it included atomic theory, Einstein’s theory of relativity, and quantum mechanics. I looked around the room and was relieved to notice that I wasn’t the only one who looked confused. Josh said. “So first, please place your right hand on the little desktop on the side of your chair. Now raise your pinkie finger up and down. Now, keep doing this for a few moments and ask yourself, ‘How am I doing this. How am I able to raise and lower my finger like this?”

“Now, I hope you have come up with several answers to yourself, ‘How do I do this. Your little finger is tired now, so let it stop. And how do you do that, too?” He looked around the room and, with his eyes, seemed to meet each one of us. At least that is what I felt when he looked at me. “Now, who would like to tell us what he or she is thinking about this question?” 

Joe Jackson held up his hand, and Josh nodded. Joe said, “I think I have an invisible little genie running around in my mind and my body and waiting for my mind/brain to tell him what to do, and he does it. Oh, I really love that helpful little guy.” Joe smiled smugly and looked around the room as everyone laughed. I wondered if the other fifth-grade cohort had a class clown like Joe.

Maria didn’t wait and said quickly, “That’s just the way god made us, we think something and god makes it happen. Maybe Joe’s really right, his little invisible genie is an angel that helps us and is sent by god.” Two students from the other 5^{th grade} cohort gave similar answers.

Olivia sang, “And, and an invisible little devil is trying to knock us down, and sometimes I think that my little devil has an evil power that makes me a cripple and my angel keeps me strong enough to smile and move my little finger – not, uh, not as good as you all, but good enough.” It must have taken her five minutes to tell us her thoughts, and everyone was quiet as mice. I felt sure that if Olivia were in a classroom in Mississippi, the other kids would have laughed at her. I was so glad to see everyone, even Joe. Quietly respect her.

Josh shocked me by saying, “You know, I think you all have wonderfully true ideas. Joe, the way you talked about a genie, reminds me of Albert Einstein’s famous E=MC²* or ‘energy equals matter times the speed of light squared. Oh, you all have heard of Einstein, haven’t you?” Joe glanced around the room, scrunched up his face, raised both of his arms like a band leader encouraging everyone to join him, and I think everyone except me let out a loud, “DUH!!”

Josh laughed and said, “Now I know you are all awake and informed. And I want you to know that I picked that little finger exercise from a fellow named Jesus featured in a1^st century blog that attempted to tell readers about what the author dreamed about how Jesus really wanted his believers to think about him. Anyway, I enjoyed the blog and some of the ideas. And now back to our own renowned physicist, Dr. Joseph Jackson. I believe Einstein would agree that when we think about moving our little finger, we send an energy signal to our finger to move. Everything is energy, and just recently, the multinational, multi-billion-dollar project to find the most basic particles may be changed to focus more on energy forms, because all the scientists finally agree with Einstein’s theory that everything is made of energy. That includes our thoughts. Questions?

Gordo asked, “So, Maria’s idea that god makes our fingers move, right? And I’ve heard that our bodies and souls are separate kinds of beings, so when we die, our souls or energy that gives us our forms leave our bodies. Josh, is that true?”

Josh told Gordo and the rest of us that it was an excellent question, that he didn’t know, and that we’d spend some time on it later in the school year. “Now I’d like to say to Maria that I don’t believe we have to invoke god to move it, we just do it ourselves. It is like our thoughts are the starter button. You know, my dear students, all these brilliant scholars at MIT are still puzzled by this question. I believe Einstein was still thinking about the kind of energy that thought, thinking, and feelings were made of up until the day he died. And the god question will have to wait, maybe for years.”

I really enjoyed this class, and I even enjoyed the homework of asking two adults what they thought about thinking as a form of energy. I would like to ask about it intelligently. I guess I’ll ask the O’Connell’s, the family I’m staying with. The last class in the morning was Spanish, and I was told I needed to join Joe Jackson with third-grade students because we were beginners. I felt like a giant with all the eight-year-olds, but they didn’t seem to care, and we felt welcome – I think Joe more than me. Maybe not. Anyway, I wanted to learn the language and I liked the woman teacher.  

At lunch, I was back with the same four fifth-graders. I missed our four big brothers and sisters, but was pleasantly surprised to see Cheryl O’Connell and Debbie’s dad, as well as another mother and another dad from the other cohort’s fifth graders. Cheryl sat next to me, and I introduced her to Ella. She told us she had just received a call this morning, asking if she could join us. “I was scheduled to join you all on Friday, and I was going to tell you on Thursday.” Neither she nor I told the rest of the group that she was my foster mom. Ella knew but didn’t say anything about it. I acted like whoever she was, it was just fine with me. Cheryl was her usual gracious self. Two of the four parents were ‘old hands’ at meetings with students and parents at Two Thousand Smiles. The other two were new to the lunch meetings but had been to the ten-session parents’ orientation before school started, so they were at home with everyone – even more at home than I was, but I was getting more comfortable every hour.

I’m glad that the first class after lunch is tai chi. It gives me a chance to relax my whole body, at least the part I’m in touch with. Back in Mississippi, the only thing we were encouraged to do was to get strong and tough enough to play tackle football. We were told we didn’t need to learn to relax; we just needed to be tough enough to take and dish out a hit. Too often, I was called a sissy. I didn’t have to worry about that here, and I was glad. The second afternoon class was cosmology, which Ella informed me was the study of the cosmos, and just as the other science class was on the microcosm, today’s class is on the macrocosm. Micro and macro are new words I need to learn. A delightful young woman who was working on her Ph.D at the University of California was the teacher who showed us several short films made by the Webb Space Telescope. Wow! I’d never even heard of it. And the last class was Geography and International Relations. We hardly got out of the state of Mississippi back in Flowers, and here we were going to learn about everyone on our planet. This school year was gonna be fun.

I told Ella I would see her after classes, and I did, but I also saw Sam, our Tator. He said that he needed to talk to me right now. I told Ella that I’d catch a later tram and followed Sam back to our cohort room.  

School of Two Thousand Smiles–Chapter Eight

DANNY DISCOVERS  HE HAS SUPPORT

DANNY

Cheryl O’Connell, my foster mother that I couldn’t think of as my mom, answered the landline phone and said, “Danny, this call is for you. It is from your tator, Sam, at school. You can take it to your room. I gave him your new number and told him it would take a minute for you to go upstairs.”

Wow, my first call on my own visual phone, and it was so nervous about what Sam had to say, I stumbled up the stairs and fumbled with the switches,  and worried that Sam would hang up on me. Finally, I found the right buttons to push and managed to say, “Hi Sam, what’s happening?” First, he wanted to know if our conversation was very private, and I looked over at the closed bedroom door to make sure I had closed my door. He wanted to know my dad’s name, and I told him it was Robert E. Lee. He chuckled and said, “I mean his real name.” I was my turn to chuckle. “It’s really his name. He was a junior till he killed his dad, and then stopped being a Jr. Anyway, please tell me what you've found out.” His voice sounded a bit lower and nervous, and I wondered if I sounded shaky too. He told me about how worried he was about my dad and that he was afraid he was a very dangerous madman – a guy who really fit my new name for him, Ratso. He had told me about his FBI friend and about her plan. I am flabbergasted about all the people worrying about me and my family.  I didn’t give a damn about our privacy, just about how worried Sam was about Ratso shooting up the school and all that. I was sure that Sam and all the other police people think I’m stupid for not thinking of that. I told Sam that, of course, I was open to being on the call when it was all set up.  This is the first time I’ve used a visual phone set up, and I blurted out, “I'm kinda nervous about it cause I ain't ever done this before." I smiled to myself as Sam sounded nervous himself as he said, "You'll do fine." before he hung up.

Only a few minutes later, Sam called back, and he was on what they called a ‘split-screen’; Clair Danley was on one half, and he was on the other half. Clair said, “Hi Danny, how do you like the school there?” I said, “I really like it, but it sure is different. Thanks for joining us on this call. I guess Sam told you how concerned he is?” She assured me that she shared his concern.

Sam said, “You have my cell number in case we get cut off, right?” I nodded, and he gave me instructions on how to handle a Zoom connection with more than one person. Then Clair Danley joined us, and I said hi to her again. Sam said, “We have two wonderful FBI agents helping us, and first we need to find a way to get your mom and sisters out of that house. Danny, tell us about what your Ratso would be doing as he runs around his family and his town down there in Mississippi?”

I wasn't sure what he meant but I said, "As far as family is concerned , his only relative is my dad’s uncle, who is the old sheriff, and I think he only talks to him around election time, and Ratso tells him what he wants him to say, and  that's the only time he says anything at all. I don’t know anyone else he'd call family and mom doesn’t know anyone around there. Ratso married her somewhere around Biloxi, but I don’t know if she has any relatives there either.  "Calling my dad Ratso sounds funny but I really hate calling him 'dad'. Anyway. he says that when she was a teenager she hung around other girls down around the bars and dance places in Biloxi." 

I guess Clair wanted to get a better idea about what the town in Mississippi looked like when they tried to get mom and my sisters away from there. so she said, “If our two agents came to Flowers, that is the name of the town, right?” I nodded, and she continued, “And asked around, what do you think they would learn?”

“If they said anything about dad, er Ratso, or me or my family, I think Ratso would take them to the little sheriff’s station and might even put them in one of the two jail cells until they told him where I was or what their business was with his family. They would be very suspicious characters. Remember, there are only about a thousand people in the entire county. I heard that San Diego County has over four million people. That’s more than the whole friggin state of Mississippi. So I don’t know what to tell you. Oh, and thank you guys for working to help me.”

Sam  wanted to know more about how I made it to California, so he asked, “Danny you talked about the truck driver you rode with. Did you get to know him well?”

“Yeah, we talked a lot. I told him about my dad being a mean bastard and that he had hurt my mom really badly many times.  Since he had never been to Flowers and probably wouldn’t ever get to see me or anybody from there, I told him a lot about my family."

Sam wanted to hear more and made a fan motion at me to continue, so I said more about Ratso and my family . "When I told Bubba, that's his name, about how he treated me and our mom, he got furious at my dad. He told me a lot about his family and that his wife had died of cancer several years ago, and that he had three grown-up children and four grandchildren – one about my age. I have to admit that I didn’t tell him about my sisters because I was afraid he’d kick me outta his truck for leaving them in a house with a dad that was mean as a snake. It’s funny that both he and you called dad a snake, ain’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Oh, Danny, what are the names of your mom and sisters? And if we could find a way to get into the house, what would be the best way to get your mom to leave with two total strangers?”

First, I gave Sam my mom’s name, which is Marge, and my sisters, Jacqui, who’s five, and Susan, who’s eight. “Maybe tell her that I sent you and give her the girls’ names and ages, and they would be safe with whoever came to get them.”

Sam wanted to get back to the truck driver, and I told him his name, which was Bubba Wilson, or Wilcox, or some kind of two-syllable W last name. Mostly, I remember Bubba. I told him that Bubba was proud that he owned his own truck and didn’t have to work for any damn trucking company. And he didn’t have any lettering on the sides of his rig. I told Sam that Bubba seemed to enjoy discussing everything with everyone.

“Danny, if we found him on the internet and talked to him, do you think he’d remember you? “ Clair asked. I wondered why she asked, but I didn’t ask her why. I told both her and Sam that I’d talk with the FBI agents or anyone they thought could help Mom and the girls. Clair and Sam said that I was helpful, and they’d keep me posted. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but Sam said he’d see me tomorrow sometime during the school day. I felt relieved that there were all these very kind people helping me help mom and my sisters. I told him the only thing I could think of about getting Ratso outta the way and getting mom and the girls outta that house was on a Friday night during a high school football game or on Saturday night when Ratso was out whor’n around. I wasn’t sure what whor’n meant except he was drinkin' a lot and being with lotsa women. Sam said that was good information.

School of Two Thousand Smiles–Chapter Seven

SAM TAKES ACTION FOR DANNY'S FAMILY

SAM

I was very worried about Danny and his demonic dad. We needed help, and I thought of a friend from graduate school who was now with the FBI. I called her. “Is this the infamous Helen of Troy?” She and I were graduate students together in a doctoral program in Evolution of Consciousness and have been friends for fifteen years. We had exchanged rather lengthy nicknames about that many years ago.

“Yes, and this must be the Sage by the Sea Sam? And you are calling me right at the end of dinner.’      

“Oh shit. It’s only five here on the left coast. Sorry about that. Your world is three hours older than mine. I’ll call back if that’s better. I do have a rather sad and dangerous case I need to talk to you about.” 

“No problem. Prince Phillip is just going out the door to a meeting. Let me get more comfortable, and you tell me about your case.”

I told her about Danny and said, “I worry that his dad might shoot up our school, and I’ll zoom to you part of his story.” When I finished showing the film and Danny told me his story, with his permission to share it with the FBI, I could hear her heavy breathing and see her tears. I turned the picture off when we heard Danny deciding to call his dad, Ratso. “So, Helen, you see the reason for my call. Obviously, his dad is a very disturbed man - a sociopath who is dangerous and very intelligent. And I’m afraid that Danny is not only in danger, but so is everyone around him, including me and everyone here at school, and the family he’s staying with. Danny is only twelve and very smart, but he does not realize how dangerous his dad really is. He said that he saw him kill his own father, but never took a day off from his work as the one and only Deputy Sheriff. He, the Deputy, has it set up there in the little town in the rural county in Mississippi, so everyone is afraid of him. So…”

“I agree, he does sound like a very sick man and a very dangerous one.” Helen was a clinical psychologist as well as having a doctorate in consciousness. “What is the situation of the Sheriff of the county?”

“Danny says that the guy is in his late seventies or eighties and shows up only around election time and then pretty much lets his, and I quote, ‘very efficient and intelligent deputy’, handle things. Danny says, for example, that Ratso – that’s Danny’s new name for dad, after I said he was misusing the word asshole, because assholes are useful, and that I  hated useless rattlesnakes, and they would make a better name. He laughed a little and said, ‘Then I’ll call him Ratso.’ The boy is clever.”

“How long has Danny been in the San Diego area? And how did he get to California?” 

25

“That is quite a story. He hitchhiked. He found an old fellow at a truck stop and talked him into letting him ride along with him in his eighteen-wheeler – wherever he was going. Danny is tall for his age – five feet, one or two - and at age twelve, he could pass for sixteen. He’s been here about four weeks, I think. I’ve told the county social worker, a very bright and caring young woman named Clair Danley. She found a good temporary foster home for him. She shares my worry. I don’t want to take him out of Two Thousand Smiles because he needs the feeling of safety and warmth we can provide at the same time. I don’t want to endanger the students and staff. I haven’t told Danny how concerned I am. He’s very fearful for his mom and sisters, and I don’t want to add to his worries.” 

“So we need to take action now. I’ll call the FBI office there in San Diego and ask them to help us. I’ll call you back as soon as I hang up. I’ll make sure they understand the danger and urgency. Have you called the police there yet?”

“Yes, and they will send out two extra plainclothes officers in the morning. There is always one plain-clothed police officer every school day, but only a few of the staff know who they are. This will be the first time in years they will possibly be needed.” Helen said she’d get back to me about the FBI in San Diego. My contact at the SD County Sheriff’s Office is Lance Keating.”

After I finished the call to Helen, I thought I’d get home in time to see Michelle breastfeed our baby girl, Sasha. We had named our first offspring, four-year-old Barack. We named both after our favorite historical presidential family, and we flipped a coin to see if our girl would be Malia or Sasha. Michelle worked from home as an editor for one of our local colleges’ magazines. So, our ‘babies’ are well cared for. In her soft voice, she whispered, “The dinner is ready. Would you please put it all on the table?” I told Michelle a bit about Danny’s plight while we ate. I was reminded that Barack was growing out of babyhood when he asked, “What’s an asshole, Daddy?” Uh, oh.

Helen called just as I had finished putting the dishes in the dishwasher. “Sam, I’ve got some good news. I asked my boss here if I could join the team to help you, Danny, and his family, and she agreed. You remember that in the doctoral program, I worked hard to tone down my southern accent?” I nodded, and she continued, “Well, I’m going to resurrect it. And we’re in luck again because one of our classmates, Marty Burnes, is stationed in the Biloxi, Mississippi, FBI field office, and he’s willing to help us.” I liked that she was so excited and so proactive. I remembered how quick and decisive she had been in our doctoral program. I thought there for a minute that she was about to jump through the screen and jump up and down in front of me. 

“Sam, you still with me?” I guess I wasn’t sounding as excited as she thought I should, so I shouted a loud Yes. She went on, “Tell me what you think. Tonight, we’ll have a Zoom meeting with you, me, Clair the social worker, Danny, and Marty. Before we meet, you and Clair talk with Danny about his family and the about the old sheriff.

Meanwhile, I’ll search online for any additional details that might be helpful. Then, I was thinking that Marty and I play like a couple who are trying to find out something about a family member of one of the people there – his dad, the old sheriff, or someone. And while we’re doing that, we’ll sneak his mom and sisters out of that dinky little town or county or whatever. Remember, Marty is from Mississippi and requested to be assigned there.

"So, what do you think?"

“I think you’re a genius. I’ll give Danny and Clara a call as soon as we hang up.”

School of Two Thousand Smiles–Chapter Six

ELLA - MEETS A FRIENDLY DANNY

I must admit, I was glad to see Danny leaving school just ahead of me. 

"Hey, Danny, how'd your meeting go with Sam?"

He turned around, saw me,  and his warm smile, made me want to run to him, but I just hurried a little, but I was happy to see his smile and hear his warm greeting:

"Hey, hi, Ella, and I'm surprised you're still here, too. What have you been doing?"

"Practicing with our little fifth-grade group, the 'Honeyspooners.' I hope you can join us on Thursday after classes like today. We usually practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I heard you tell Sam you play guitar, and, oh, only play chords." I wanted to cheer him up, so I added, "Guess what, I only play chords, too."

"I don't have a guitar here in California." He sounded like he wanted to tell me more about being in California but he only added, "I left mine back in good old Mississippi. I had to travel light when I left there."

"Are you the only one in your family who came to California?" I didn't want to sound nosy—just curious and friendly—so I was glad Danny answered easily:

"Uh, I guess you could say that. I came with a tiny part of my family—just me, myself, and I." He chuckled and tried to act nonchalant about it. Before I could respond, he asked, "And what kind of name is 'Honeyspooners'?"

"Very funny—me, myself, and I—I haven't heard that in forever. I take it you don't like our band's name. I just heard someone say that a couple who has just gotten married and is going on a trip—just the two of them—is called a honeymoon, and they're honeymooners. So, I came up with our group's name—Honeyspooners—because we spoon out delicious music, so there."

I tried to look down my nose at him, but I just started giggling.

"Everybody else liked my idea, and y'all can call it 'Honeyspooners' if you want." He was nice enough to laugh.

"So, come on over Thursday, and I'll introduce you to the group—Evie, Chris, and Joe are there. Tell Sam about needing a guitar—I bet he'll find one for you, at least a loaner if not a gift. Now tell me, why did you come to California alone? Were you a pain-in-the-butt back there, and they sent you to relatives here to get rid of you?"

"Ha, I wish it were that simple. Someday soon, I'll tell you the real story. Right now, I'm living with a really nice family in Lakewood Hills. They have two little girls, almost the same age as my sisters, and they love trying to talk like me. They're hilarious—'Hey, y'all, how y'all doin' today? Y'all sure do talk funny down here in California. Y'all know that?"

I laughed so hard I nearly wet my pants—but didn't, thank God. "And where in Lakewood Hills? That's where I live too. What's the address?"

He told me, and I said, "That's only a couple of blocks from us. We live on Tupelo—2523. I'm sure our family will welcome you, and my siblings will love making fun of your accent." 

School of Two Thousand Smiles–Chapter Four

DANNY - LUNCH WITH HIGH SCHOOLERS

I almost reached over and took Ella’s hand when she pointed at two high schoolers holding signs with our names on them. This school gets stranger and stranger. Ella said, “This guy will be your big brother this semester, and you’ll have lunch with him every Tuesday and Thursday. And the girl will be my big sister for the semester. I’ve seen them around school the last two years, but I can’t say I know them. The guy’s name is Jack Sanchez, and he plays basketball. Let’s go meet them.”

Ella led me to where the two teens were standing and introduced me as a new student. They were friendly, and Jack Sanchez, my new ‘big brother,’ said, “Well, Danny, welcome to Thousand Smiles.” I said thanks.

Julie Stang, Ella’s big sister, asked, “And where are you from, Danny?” I replied, “Mississippi.” She said she had never been there and was looking forward to hearing more, then quickly added, “Let’s go in for lunch.”

Boy, the girls are sure different here. Julie took my hand and we went into the dining hall. Both teens seemed to know where to take us, and we found one of the 25 or so large round tables with eight chairs.

Jack Sanchez pulled out a chair for me and sat down. Wow, a high schooler pulling out a chair for a fifth grader! This school is so damn strange. Like the hick that I was, I exclaimed, “Look, real silverware - forks, spoons, and knives!” All seven of my tablemates chuckled or laughed at this. The plates are still plastic, but a better kind than the disposable ones I was used to. I looked around the room and focused on the inside walls – I couldn’t see the cafeteria line. I asked, “And now do we go to a cafeteria line? And where is it? In a different room?”

Jack gently put a hand on my shoulder and looked at Ella sitting next to him, “Ella, you need to educate your guest a bit better. Get your lazy butt in gear, young lady,” He chuckled. Ella said, “He’s doing great, so you just do your part and tell him why he’s sitting at a table with a know-it-all, like you.

“Okay, I will.” He turned to me, “As I understand it, Danny, the fellow, Ella’s grandfather, who started these kind of K-12 schools,  Dr. Mark Haloran, back in 2018 or around that time, thought there was too much age segregation in our society and thought that it all started with the way schools were all divided into one small school called kindergarten, then a bigger elementary school for five grades and another middle school for sixth through eighth and then high school. And I went to one of those kinds of schools, and believe me, Ten Thousand Smiles is a million times better.”

17.

I looked around Jack and asked Ella, “You’re very own grandpa is the person who invented this type of school? Why didn’t you tell me?

“And what difference would it make? And when would I have had time to tell you?” She sounded impatient. I just shrugged, and she continued, “And Jack is just showing us that he is a good listener. My grandfather, Mark Haloran, visits our school every year and goes around to every class. So you’ll get to meet him then. He stays at our house when he’s here from Missouri.”

Just then, an elderly woman pushing a cart stopped next to our table. “Good day, boys and girls, I’m Isabel, and I will be your volunteer waitress for you this semester, and if you are kind, I may stay for next semester. And if you are unkind…” She stopped talking and gave us a big smile and continued, “I’ll pour a bowl of hot soup on your heads.”

All seven of my tablemates assured her that we were the kindest and most polite bunch in the universe. Then we giggled, and I joined them. Isabel began placing food on the table. There were two bowls of mixed vegetable salads, a dish that looked like meat but wasn’t. Ella whispered to me that meat from animals, chickens, pigs, or cows, was not allowed in California’s public schools and other state institutions. Californians would have starved in Mississippi. Again, I thought I was in a completely foreign country.

The designers of the dining hall were geniuses, as over 275 people ate lunch and talked without the noise being too loud. You could hear nearly everyone at the table without straining. For example, I learned that Jack grew up in Kansas, had a bunch of brothers and sisters, and attended a private Catholic school in the Kansas City area. He said he hoped to learn a bit about all of us. I was sitting next to him, and he said, “You looked a bit puzzled when I mentioned that I went to a Catholic college. Were there any Catholics in Mississippi?”

“I don’t know, Sir, I didn’t know any. Is that the name of a religion?”

“Hey man, my name’s Jack, not Sir.” He smiled all friendly-like and looked at his fellow high schooler at our table, Julie, and almost yelled, “Oh man, , did you hear him call me ‘Sir’?” Ju lie nodded, and Jack continued, “Danny, seriously, were you supposed to call a junior in high school ‘sir’?”

“We never had any high school students in our school. I was kinda looking forward to being one of the top dogs in the fifth grade in middle school back in Mississippi, but I moved to California instead. I think fifth grade here is better, anyway.” We were all eating while we talked, and there was one thing similar about the girls here and in Mississippi, and that was that the girls were more well-mannered eaters than the boys. And the boys were all slobs. After lunch, Jack, Ella, and I went slowly.

18.

We walked over to the building where Ella and I had our exercise class. I learned that Jack’s dad had died back in Kansas, and his mom and siblings all moved to California, where his oldest brother and sister lived. Jack worked after school as a gardener here at the school and on Saturday.

We arrived at our classroom, and Jack said he’d see me on Thursday. Again, Ella took my hand and led me through the door. This handholding didn’t seem to be any more meaningful for her than saying, “Here we are.” She said that she was pretty sure we would start the class with tai-chi, as if I knew what that was. She read my questioning look and added, “It’s the gentlest of the martial arts, you’ll like it.”

Again, I was sure I was in another world and told myself to relax, dummy. And again, Ella was right; I did like it. It took me about fifteen minutes to relax, and then I started to enjoy moving my body like the rest of the class. There were about forty students, fifth and sixth graders, Ella told me. She also mentioned that switching to a more energetic martial art, aikido, would require us to change into gym clothes. And again, I’d have to go shopping with somebody else’s money. I hated being a beggar. This class lasted an hour and a half and will meet again on Thursday. I wasn’t sure what we did on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Ella led me back to the fifth-grade classroom where we would have English writing and speech. The new fifth grader in the other cohort and I were the only ones who did not have a written 200-word article or essay describing our experience meeting with, and talking to, a senior man or woman whom we had never met before.

Izzy Cassidy told me and the other ‘newbie’ that Izzy was short for Isidore, just like Danny was for Daniel. I didn’t tell him my name was never Daniel. A teacher named Izzy was so damn strange. This place never stops being strange. It took the entire class half a period to read and discuss the essays. They were good, and Izzy asked us to discuss our reactions to each of them – especially how well we thought we got to know both the writers, that is, the interviewers, and the persons interviewed. I was surprised that each of us had different ideas about each one. Boys were more interested in the students' and elders' activities and where they lived, whereas most of the girls were interested in their clothing and feelings. In any writing class in Mississippi, the teacher would return our assignments with a bunch red corrections, highlighting mistakes in spelling, punctuation, and other things I learned more this way and got to know my classmates better. If we had read something someone else had written or said and then laughed at something we found funny, we would have faced serious trouble.

Here, no one laughed at the writer, but at what was written about. Izzy asked us to watch a TV show and write a half-page critique of it. I had to ask Ella what a critique was. She explained it to me and then said she’d see me in the morning. I then went to have my meeting with Sam.

19.