Monday – Contact Hour 1
“Guys, none
of you have your math homework done today.
What’s up?”
Javier’s
hooded eyes flicked slowly back and forth as he said evasively, “I couldn’t get
on the assignment. Our computer’s all
messed up with a virus.”
A flush
crept up Kevin’s neck. “I didn’t know
how to do it.”
David was
frantically thumbing through the zippered binder that his mother was calling his trash
can. He looked up in astonishment. “We had homework?”
Tuesday – Contact Hour 1
“Gentlemen. Let’s go over your math.”
Javier morphed
into the “Godfather” - tilted head, exaggerated frown, slowly scratching his neck
with the back of his fingernails. “I’m
banned from the computer at my house.”
“If you’re
banned from the computer, then you need to take your actual math book home.”
Javier maintained
character, but stopped scratching and conceded the point to me with his index
finger and a slight raise of his eyebrows.
Kevin’s
breathing deepened and became labored. I
wondered if his inhaler was close. “I
did the first one, but then my mom said it was 10 o’clock and I had to go to
bed.”
“When did you
start your work?”
Kevin
moaned softly. “At 6:30. Right after dinner.”
Wrinkled
papers already covered David’s desk, but he continued pulling more from his
binder. Papers fell to the floor. I stood watching a paper earthquake in
progress. “I had it done. I swear.
It was right here, but I can’t find it.”
Wednesday – Contact Hour 1
I looked wearily
at my charges. “Homework?”
A slow grin
began on Javier’s face, and I knew what was coming. “I . . .”
I joined
him in his reponse. “. . . forgot your
book.”
Kevin smiled
as he handed me two neat pages stapled together. “I have mine done!”
“That’s
wonderful Kevin,” I said rewarding him with a big smile. But it dropped off my face as I looked down
at two pages filled with crisp, neat, adult writing.
“Did anyone
help you with your work?”
“Yeah,”
Kevin beamed. “My dad. He’s an engineer.”
David’s
binder lay open. The bomb had detonated
and papers covered the desk. He held out
his empty hands and sadly shook his head back and forth.
Thursday – Contact Hour 1
“Homework!”
I snapped.
Javier
looked up smugly as he tapped the paper on his desk with his index finger.
I looked
down at the half page of work. “You only
did problems 1 to 3. The assignment was
for 1 to 11.”
“We have
church youth group on Wednesday night.”
Yeah, right.
Kevin’s
head was down as he slowly shook his head back and forth. “Dad had to work late. Mom said she doesn’t know how to do our math.”
David pulsed
side to side as he proudly held up a piece of paper and hip-hopped, “I’m
good. I’m good. Oh yeah. I’m good.”
My head began
nodding in time with his shoulders as I reached for his math paper. “This is your report from yesterday’s Science
lab.”
I could
almost hear the needle on the record scratch as David stopped dancing. “Wait. What?”
He took the paper back from me and studied it. “This is my Science paper? Oh man! Did I give my math to my Science teacher
yesterday?”
Friday – Contact Hour 1
I looked
out at my group. “Anyone?”
Three boys
sat at three desks looking back at me. Sitting neatly in the middle of each of their desks
was a piece of paper filled with numbers.
I slowed
walked down the row examining their work.
Every assignment was complete.
Javier looked up with a kind smile clearly conveying great respect for
his hard working teacher. Kevin looked up
with a proud smile as I noted the page filled with his own writing. David looked up with a calm smile as I looked
down on his clean, neat, wrinkle-free paper.
Suddenly, the
annoying buzz of my alarm going off woke me up, and I rolled over. “6:00” blinked in red. Time to get up.
I knew Friday was too good to be true, but hope springs eternal.
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