The classroom was clean, Mike gave it that much. The walls were a dull yellow, empty, unadorned by colorful animals holding up letters of the alphabet or animated posters encouraging children to read. The bright fluorescent lighting gleamed off exacting rows of spotless, child-sized desks lined up before a larger, albeit just as uninteresting, desk at the front of the classroom.
A gaunt woman sat at the larger desk with her hands folded in front of her. “I’m not sure why you’ve come, Mr. Lee.” Mike didn’t miss the scarcely concealed annoyance in her tone. “The matter has already been turned over to Officer Beech, the school security advisor.”
“I know that, Ms. Berger.” He shifted a little in his undersized seat. The air was dry, sterile, with an underlying chemical smell. Bleach? Some other disinfectant? “I’ve spoken with Mr. Beech. He informed me it was you who brought the drawing to his attention.”
Ms. Berger raised a pencil-thin eyebrow. “Did he? I’ll have to file a complaint with the district office. The reporting party is supposed to remain anonymous.”
“He said your complaint described John as a threat to the entire class. Don’t you think that’s a little… exaggerated?”
Ms. Berger’s lips tightened. “Since you’ve spoken with Officer Beech, I assume you’ve seen your son’s drawing.”
“Yes.”
“Then I fail to understand your confusion. The Federal Student Safety Outreach Program has a zero tolerance policy when it involves threats of violence or injury. John is a murderous sociopath in the making. Frankly, we’re fortunate I caught his tendencies this early. Who knows what bloodshed we’ve averted?”
“Threats of violence or injury?” Reaching into his coat pocket, Mike pulled a folded piece of construction paper from his pocket and spread it out on the desk. “This is a drawing of a stickman shooting a ray gun at a Tyrannosaurus. How can you think this is a threat to anyone, except maybe time travelling dinosaurs?”
Ms. Berger shook her head. “Officer Beech gave you a copy of the picture as well? My, my, I will indeed have to file a complaint.” She leaned back in her chair. “Do you know how many conversations like this I’ve had, Mr. Lee? Do you know how many crying or shouting parents I’ve had escorted from this very room?”
“No.”
“Dozens, scores even. It’s never easy, but it is my job.” Ms. Berger’s tapped John’s picture with a boney finger. “You see this as nothing more than a cartoon, a fictitious vision in your son’s young mind drawn out in crayon.”
“It’s not?”
“No. It is the first outward manifestation of rebellious antisocial behavior. On a mental level, there is absolutely no difference between this picture and the act itself. Who knows what this drawing truly represents? Your son is obviously the stickman with the weapon, but who is the dinosaur? Is it a fellow student, a teacher, the president? Trust me, Mr. Lee. John needs to be locked away before he can do any real harm.”
“Real harm?” Mike picked up the drawing, stared at the anemic hero vanquishing a poorly drawn lizard. A frigid sort of unreality gripped him. “He’s six years old.”
“As I said, we’re lucky to have caught this behavior so early on.” Ms. Berger stood. “Now, I’m very busy, Mr. Lee. If you’ll hand me that copy, I’ll have it filed and you can be on your way.”
“I was going to burn it.”
“That is school property, and evidence, Mr. Lee.” Ms. Berger held out her hand. “Please, don’t make this any harder than it has to be. The Office of Student Safety won’t have my report until morning. You and your wife should be spending what time you have left with John as a family.”
“I agree. And I will cherish every second I have left with them.” Mike stood. It was hard. The cloak of his misery, of the dark future of emptiness to come was a crushing weight on his back. “Before I go, let me ask you something. Do you honestly believe what you’re telling me?” He held up John’s drawing. “You truly see no difference between this and actual violence?”
Ms. Berger scowled impatiently. “There is no difference. What you’re holding is nothing less than a murder in the making. It is a root of violence waiting to grow. Accept it.”
“I do.” Producing a lighter from his shirt pocket, Mike lit the edge of the picture.
“What do you think you are you doing?” Ms. Berger jabbed the intercom key on her desk. “Officer Beech! We have another code twelve in room 214. Officer Beech!”
“He won’t be answering. And this isn’t a copy by the way.” The flame grew, quickly consuming the stickman and his reptile nemesis. When the flames licked the tips of Mike’s fingers, he dropped it to the floor. “The report you filed has been destroyed as well.”
Ms. Berger backed away, pressing her boney back to the blank chalkboard. “You’re insane.”
Mike shrugged. “I’m a father.” A knife appeared in his hand, parts of the long blade still stained red with Officer Beech’s blood. “Now, would you like to know the difference between my son’s picture and what I’m about to do? Do you want to understand the real root of every act of violence?”
“Please,” Ms. Berger begged. Her lips were trembled, and bright tears filled her eyes. “Please… I was only… they trained us to…”
Mike lifted the knife. “Motivation.”
Born in May of 1974, Timothy Miller has worked at a farm, a meatpacking plant, a pickle factory, a casino, and a rowdy nightclub as a bouncer. Currently employed as a repair technician for a large telephone company, he writes in his spare time. His biggest fans, his family, spend many frigid Wisconsin nights in their home, listening to his stories and encouraging him, despite the nightmares.
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25 Responses to “THE ROOT • by Timothy Miller”
Comments
« THE HARDEST WALK • by David Rees-Thomas | Home | Podcast EDF015: WAITING • written by Simon Smithson • read by Adam Kerby »
March 14th, 2010 at 12:53 am
Very 1984.
The end was a bit disappointingly expected, but the idea of political correctness gone to the nth degree probably strikes a chord with some.
Good ‘un!
March 14th, 2010 at 1:38 am
Very impressive, particularly since I’ve just come from following up some links from a site that are very down on feminisation and political correctness, including that in the educational area.
“A gaunt woman at the larger desk with her hands folded in front of her”.
Where’s the verb?
“When the flamed licked the tips of Mike’s fingers…” – typo. (See? I didn’t use a verb of my own!)
March 14th, 2010 at 3:36 am
When something is as competently written as this one, an ending as unimaginative as this one’s is particularly disappointing.
March 14th, 2010 at 6:26 am
While I enjoyed the story overall, I didn’t like the ending because it seems to prove that Ms. Berger is right and that the drawing is the early manifestation of violence.
March 14th, 2010 at 6:35 am
I liked this story. After reading the ending, the father’s kind of hum drum response to the teacher’s attitude makes sense. Nice commentary woven in a piece of flash.
March 14th, 2010 at 7:24 am
I would have been disappointed with any other ending.
I found the double murder by a distraught father far less terrible than a society that had gone to such terrible extremes in order to protect itself, that it had become the true danger.
March 14th, 2010 at 7:39 am
I agree with #3
March 14th, 2010 at 7:43 am
I loved this story. I thought the father’s actions were very real and justified. Of course he would do that for his son, *he’s a father.*
Sadly, our schools might become all to like this if we let them, it’s ridiculous.
March 14th, 2010 at 8:04 am
Sadly our schools HAVE become like this. Well done could even be an eye opener?
March 14th, 2010 at 8:38 am
Any other ending would have been a disappointment. I think we all know what lengths we’d go to in order to protect our small children. I found the dad’s actions completely believable and sympathetic.
Good job!
March 14th, 2010 at 8:45 am
Nicely done.
March 14th, 2010 at 9:08 am
Absolutely perfect! Minus the typos, that didn’t really distract that much, this was a great story on the subject that truly has gotten out of hand. When school administrators kick a kid out of school for pointing a make believe gun(his hand gesture) at another student, that should be a huge wake up call for everyone, not just parents. These idiots are slowly and steadily increasing the stupid regulations to totally neuter our children and crush any expressions of individuality. Nicely done Timothy, I’d love to read more of your stories!
March 14th, 2010 at 9:57 am
Hmmmmm
Ms. Berger was right!
Shoulda caught the dad
in the system to.
Like father
like son~~~~~~~~~Haaa Haaaaaaaa
5 *****
March 14th, 2010 at 10:06 am
Very well done. As I was reading, I was sort of hoping the dad had someow convinced Officer Beech of the need to stop Ms. Berger, but I think having the dad off them both is more true to the story and the issues it brings to light.
March 14th, 2010 at 11:01 am
Typos corrected; thanks, P.M.!
March 14th, 2010 at 2:03 pm
I liked ths story. Motivation. Perfect.
March 14th, 2010 at 3:07 pm
The most interesting aspect of the story was that the father hints that he knows he will not get away with this double murder (“It was hard. The cloak of his misery, of the dark future of emptiness to come was a crushing weight on his back”). Not enough information about this particular world to know if there are appeals processes or if flight to Canada is an option, but it’s a bleak future where Dad has to sacrifice himself to protect his child for something so seemingly trivial.
–John
March 14th, 2010 at 7:35 pm
Sorry. Too obviously preachy, and woefully simplistic in its painting of the “PC villain”.
March 15th, 2010 at 3:56 am
I normally read EDF stories out loud to myself and it seemed to me the first two paragraphs have about 40% too many words.
I liked the pace of the ending and the strength of the final word.
March 15th, 2010 at 7:24 am
Thanks to all for their comments. I enjoyed the praise and managed to survive the criticism. Best wishes to everyone.
March 22nd, 2010 at 2:45 pm
I liked the first half a lot more than the second half. I enjoyed it, and think it’s well-written, and although the ending is in keeping with the spirit of the piece, I was expecting something more. I’m not entirely sure what, though (sorry, I know that doesn’t help much).
April 3rd, 2010 at 11:51 am
I liked it overall, but the ending seemed sort of forced. Great work!
April 7th, 2010 at 12:05 pm
I thought the ending was ok,but was such an extreme response justified? The sort of twist in the tale that I expected could have revealed the dad as a psychiatrist or official investigator and had her carted off to an asylum.That said I fully get the meaning behind
‘Motivation. A good read.
June 15th, 2010 at 12:22 am
“Ms. Berger’s tapped John’s picture with a boney finger.”
Ms. Berger’s what?
“bony” is misspelled
While I felt that the beginning might have been a little wordy, the quickening pace at the end of the piece really heightened the tension and accented the emotion of the scene. Very well written! 4/5 Stars
June 16th, 2010 at 10:08 pm
I liked the story. The end in my opinion was good. Especially the difference between expression of violence and a motivated act of violence.
but i can truely say the journey was far better than the conclusion