Hey, can you help me out? We can't leave until we set the alarm and we can't set the alarm until we know all the doors are locked. Can you come with me through the school and help me check the doors? Come on, I will tell you stories as we go. Schools are filled with stories you know.
Let's start on the third floor and work our way down. Just rattle the door knobs to make sure they are locked. Do you remember this hall? Right there in front of that door, that's where I saw Ed for the last time. He died that weekend. He had a head full of curly hair and he was in his soccer uniform. He had that big grin and there were girls with him. Almost every time I walk past here I think of him, I think I see him. I hope the place remembers him when I'm gone.
These are all locked. Lets go to the second floor.
See at the corner there, there's where the entire school bottle necks. You wouldn't believe the jostling and pushing that goes on at this corner. I remember seeing Karen there; her glasses smudged, looking for her EA. She's so upset. All the kids are walking around her, making sure not to bump into her because they see how upset she is. Someone's always getting jostled here; someone is always looking out for someone here.
We just have the first floor left.
One time I saw a young couple break up right there. Oh and over there, that's where the basketball team huddles before big games. I remember a girl crying with a few of her friends trying to comfort her over there. And right there, near those windows, that's where the tech teacher had five guys following him. He was teaching them how to install a wooden statue they had carved. See look, it's still there.
Anne Michael's says that geography has memory. I see that in the geography of a school. Late at night after a game or a show, or after parent night, or in the quiet hours of the morning, schools tell us who we are. They remind us, that for a brief and fleeting moment, we knew each other.
Thanks for your help.
No comments:
Post a Comment