Wesley Harris and the Rotten Patterson Kids

“Okay, class. Let’s review,” Mrs. Ulmer resounded from the front of the social studies classroom. Mrs. Ulmer was a very tidy woman with short black hair. She was not a beautiful woman, but the way she carried herself made her very attractive, indeed. This was twelve-year-old Wesley Harris’ opinion, anyway. She was his favorite teacher.

Mrs. Ulmer was very enthusiastic about not only Social Studies but everything else, as well. Her eyebrows seemed to be stitched in a perpetually raised position and every single word she spoke was preceded by her trademark pearly smile. To Wesley she was the perfect teacher and he was sure that if you looked up the word “teacher” in the dictionary, Mrs. Ulmer’s photo would be what you would find.

“As we should know by now, Columbus discovered America in 1492,” she continued, gesturing with both hands. “Now, how do you think Columbus and his crew felt when they landed on a brand new continent, in a brand new place they had never been before?”

Tammy Hiott raised her hand from the third row.

“Yes, Tammy?” Mrs. Ulmer said, smiling and raising her eyebrows even higher. “What do you think?”

“Um, they were probably scared.”

Tammy Hiott was a tiny, blonde-haired girl who, unbeknownst to him, had a crush on Wesley. She sat three rows over and as she gave her answer she glanced briefly over at him, face reddening.

“Very good!” Mrs. Ulmer gushed, nearly blinding the front row with her gleaming teeth. “They were probably very scared and nervous. It’s awfully frightening to move to a new place, isn’t it?”

At that moment a knock was heard at the door.

“Excuse me for a moment, class, “ Mrs. Ulmer said, backing toward the door. ”Until we can continue with the lesson, let’s all think about what else those adventuresome men with Columbus might have been feeling, okay?”

With that she quickly turned and walked, heels clicking, across the room.

Wesley was watching to see who was at the door when a sudden sharp jab in his back made him jump in his seat. He wheeled around.

“Sorry, “ Randy said, smiling. “I just couldn’t bear to keep watching you stare at Mrs. Ulmer like that!”

Randy Carter was Wesley’s best friend and had been since they both could remember.

“Like what?” Wesley said, blushing.

Randy lowered his voice about two octaves. “Like you are in love!” The students sitting near them giggled.

Wesley, turning redder, grabbed Randy’s eraser from his desk and threw it at him. “I am not!”

“Boys?” Mrs. Ulmer called from the front, still smiling. Wesley and Randy both jerked to attention in their seats. “Are we keeping our minds on the lesson?”

Mrs. Ulmer turned back to the door and Wesley noticed that she was speaking with Mrs. Lopez, the school secretary, and there was a boy standing with her.

“Hey!” Wesley whispered back to Randy. “I think it’s a new student!”

Mrs. Ulmer thanked Mrs. Lopez and then led the new kid into the room, her hand on his shoulder. “Class,” she began, “I think we have been learning a very valuable and helpful lesson this morning. Remember how we were discussing how difficult and scary it can be to go to someplace new?”

Every eye was focused on the boy standing beside her.

“Well, this is Ray Patterson, class, and he and his family have just moved into town. I think we can all remember what it was like to be new in one place or another, so I think we should all make him feel very welcome by saying hello.”

“Hello, Ray!” the whole class rang forth. Mrs. Ulmer’s smile, unbelievably, grew even bigger.

“Very good! Now, Ray,” she said, bending toward the boy. “Would you like to say anything to the class?”

Ray curled up his lip and cut his eyes at her.

“No.”

Mrs. Ulmer’s smile faltered briefly but then she quickly straightened up.

“Well, that’s okay, Ray, why don’t we find you a seat!”

Mrs. Ulmer quickly scanned the room for an empty desk. “There,” she said, smiling and pointing to the empty chair beside Tammy Hiott. “You may sit there, Ray!”

Ray was a burly kid. Big for his age. With dirty blonde hair that was cut too close to his head. It looked as if he had probably cut it himself. With no mirror. Or scissors. He had a scar on his chin and his fingernails were dirty. He wore a faded dark blue muscle shirt over even dirtier, faded jeans and raggedy sneakers. He was carrying nothing except for a tattered old composition book and a chewed pencil behind his left ear. He removed the pencil and with every eye in the room on him, he swaggered to the desk he was given. Slumping heavily into the seat he turned to Tammy who was still staring. “What are you looking at, pencil neck?” he growled.

Tammy’s eyes bugged out and she snapped her head toward the front.

Randy poked Wesley in the back again. “Get a load of that one!”

Wesley was getting a good eyeful, but trying not to be as obvious as Tammy had been. “What was his name?” he whispered back to Randy.

“Patterson. Ray Patterson.” Randy answered.

“He looks like trouble.” Wesley said, cupping his hand to his mouth. He noticed Ray had shoved his notebook and pencil under his desk and had slouched way down in the seat, his head resting on the back support. “Maybe we should introduce ourselves. Ya know, start things off right.”

Randy laughed quietly. “ Oh, right! What do you wanna do? Just walk up to him after class, stick out your hand and say....”