Coach Assistant

By: Tim
(© 2015-2016 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

tim@tickiestories.us

Chapter 67 

During lunch, Francis and I were more or less left alone.  I tried to see where Steve was and where the others were, but they all seemed to be busy.  So we talked a bit and ate our lunch, most of the time in silence.  The rest of the afternoon went by without too much happening.  We finished the last hour and made our way slowly towards the exit.  But before we reached it, we were blocked.  A huge crowd of students were standing outside the detention room. 

Wow!  A lot of people must have gotten detention, I thought.  The teacher came out and, when he saw us, he threw us a dirty look.  He didn’t say anything. 

“What did we do?” Francis asked. 

“Hey, you guys!” Andrew yelled.  “That’s one down … let’s see what happens now!” 

“What’s going on, Andrew?” I asked. 

“Well, we all handed out that paper that Steve wrote … so we decided we all needed a detention.”  

“Wow!  All of you?”  

“Yea!  The turnout isn’t bad … and remember, there’s still classes going on in some subjects … so I guess that means that most of the people that are finished for the day are here.”  

He was right about that.  More and more people walked into the detention room area.  We were getting a lot of encouragement from some of them as they walked past us. 

We felt a bit awkward about the amount of support Steve was getting because of us.  But, on the other hand, this meant that people were supporting us and that was something I hadn’t expected.  I guess Jordan had been right after all. 

I wondered where he was but I couldn’t find him.  Suddenly the crowd on one side of the room went quiet.  We looked around and saw the principal coming towards us, accompanied by some of the teachers. 

“What’s going on here?”

Nobody answered … we all looked towards the detention room. 

Someone started to yell in there, “We have detention, we have detention.”   The chorus got louder as more of the kids joined in.  The principal looked around until he saw us and then he moved closer. 

“You have anything to do with this, Nick?”  

“No, sir!  I was just leaving when we found this.”  

“Sure,” he said in a way that led me on to believe he definitely didn’t buy my story.   

He made his way into the detention room, the kids still yelling.  We followed him inside. 

“Silence!  Silence!” he shouted. 

But he stood no chance, none whatsoever. 

Then I saw Jordan standing on one of the chairs. 

“Let’s hear what the principal has to say, guys!”  

The principal nodded towards Jordan, more or less thanking him. 

“What do you guys think you’re doing?”

Now Jordan approached him.  “I think, sir, that that is quite clear … at the moment, we’re all  serving a detention.”  

“No, you’re not … I only have five on my list.”  

“No, we all have detentions …we all have handed out that paper.”  

You could see the principal look around, finally starting to see what was going on. 

“You’re not going to get anywhere doing this, you know.  The parent-teacher association has decided this issue, so there’s nothing you can do to change that.”  

“Well, sir, I regret to say that we disagree.  They’re making decisions for us students and we’re not buying that any more.”  

“I don’t think you can change that, Jordan, and you know that.”  

“We’ll see, sir.  For now, we’re letting our voice be heard that we’re not agreeing with their decision.”  

“What do you want then?” he asked, trying to see if this was just a protest or if there was more behind it. 

“Well, good of you to ask, sir.  We have a petition here that has been signed since last Friday by 80 per cent of the students.  I’m sure you’re capable of reading it.  You have till 9 a. m. tomorrow morning to let us know if you agree with it or not.”  

Jordan handed the papers he got from someone else to the principal … who looked at the forms and, I think, was just as surprised by the number of signatures as I was. 

My god!  They must have done an awful lot of work to get this done in just a few days.  I started to realize that we had more support than we thought we had.  I looked at Francis and saw that he was realizing now what was happening, too. 

“I don’t think this will matter much, Jordan, but I’ll see if I can discuss it at least.” 

“Tomorrow before 9 a. m., sir.”  

The principal - together with some of the teachers who had followed him - left the room.  No one stayed behind to check up on the ones that had detention. 

“Wow!” Francis said.  “You’ve been busy, Jordan.”  

“You can say that again,” I added. 

“Well, I wasn’t alone … there’s a whole bunch of us and we’re not backing down.”  

“So what happens tomorrow at 9, then?” Francis asked. 

“It depends on what the answer is.”  

“I don’t think you can expect any response, Jordan.”  

“In that case, they’ll find out what the power of students can mean.”  

“No violence, agreed?” I said quickly. 

“Of course not … we’re not stupid.”  

‘So what then?” Francis asked. 

“To be frank, I’m not sure yet.  We’ll have another meeting tonight.”  

“Oh?  Where?”

“Over at Andrew and Peter’s house.  Are you coming?”

“No,” I said a bit louder than I needed to, I guess. 

“Are you sure, Nick?” Francis asked now. 

“Yea … it might be better if we stood a little distant from all of this.  We don’t want people to start saying that we’re pushing others.”  

“You might have a point there,” Jordan said. 

“Just keep us informed, OK?” Francis said. 

“Will do!  You’re going home?”  

“I guess so … you’re going to stay here then?”  

“I’m not sure … we won’t meet until 8 tonight.”  

“OK … see you tomorrow then.”  

“Have fun tonight!” I added. 

We walked out of the room and back to our house. 

“Did you think something like this would happen?” I asked Francis as we sat down on the couch. 

“No, definitely not!  So many are supporting us.  After all the things happening with the parents, I was sure most of the students were thinking the same way.”  

“Well, we seemed to be wrong about that.”  

Just then my dad walked in. 

“Wrong about what, guys?” he asked. 

So we told him the story of what happened at school that afternoon. 

“Wow!  That is amazing!  I think the principal is right … I’m not sure they’ll go very far with this.  Maybe they’ll let Steve back to lead the school’s newspaper but I think that’ll be it.”  

“It is good to know that they’re trying, sir,” Francis said. 

“I guess so.  So Jordan is playing a major role in this?”  

“Oh, I’m not sure.  I think a lot of people are involved in organizing this.  But Jordan might be their spokesman, so to speak.  He invited us over for tonight’s meeting at Andrew’s place but I thought it would be better if we stayed out of it.”  

“Good idea.  Otherwise they might think we’ve pushed them into doing this,” my dad said.

Hmmm … he’s thinking the same way we are, I thought. 

“So did you get in contact with any of the teachers?”

“Some of them … but they’re not willing to talk a lot.  I’m not sure what happened that Thursday evening, but the more I think about it, it has to do with some kind of blackmail or pressure that group of parents used on them.”  

“That would be typical of the strategy they’re following at the moment,” Francis said. 

“It seems so.  You’re still planning to go ahead this Thursday, Nick?”  

“Definitely.  I want them to know what happened.  I don’t think they think I’d go too far but I’m not letting them speculate and use it all any longer.  The support of my schoolmates has only convinced me to go forward, too.”  

That evening we tried to focus as much as we could on the homework we’d gotten so behind in, but I’m sure that Francis’s mind wandered off as much as mine towards the meeting then going on on the other side of town. 

We could see a lot of people outside the school building when we arrived at 8.30.  Some were students but most seemed to be parents or teachers.  Jordan was waiting for us and, before we reached them, he led us to the side of the building. 

“Come here, guys!  This is the only way in at the moment.”  

“What have you been up to, Jordan?” Francis asked. 

“At about 7 this morning, we took over the building.  The janitor who opened the school was put outside and, since then, we’ve been control of the school.  Students are allowed to go in but the teachers have to stay out till we get an answer from the principal.  We though that that was the best way to show them that we mean it.”

“You sure this isn’t going too far?”  

“I don’t think so, Nick.  A group of 20 or so talked about it last night for quite a while and we came to the conclusion that the chance of them giving in to our petition was pretty small … so we needed to push the point a bit more and let them know we’re serious about this.  We then checked to see if we had general support and, by midnight, we had about 200 students on side, agreeing to be here by 7 a.m. this morning.”  

In the meantime, we’d entered the building by a back door controlled by students who’d blocked access with some rubbish.  We were cheered with great enthusiastic as we entered the building. 

“So now what, Jordan?” Francis asked. 

“We have about 15 minutes till 9.  I don’t think the principal has arrived yet, so we just have to wait.  But before that I think we need a little pep talk, so let’s listen.”  

He pushed us a bit further so we could see the stairs that let up from the first floor.  Andrew was standing there. 

“Quiet, please!  I want to say something.”

It didn’t take the students long to turn around and look at him. 

“Thanks for being here this morning.  Last night we handed out the petition and this morning we’re here, occupying the building to add weight to the requests we have … requests that are totally appropriate according to what we believe and stand for … what we’ve learned from our parents … to respect people with other beliefs … and to believe in ideals as long as they leave space to respect others … to make sure that we know the facts before we act on rumors, gossip and outright lies.  But we also have to fight for the right to live out our own lives … without the hate and small-minded thoughts of am insignificant group of people who can’t keep up with current changes in society.  So the plan is this: from now on, we’ll stay here … occupy the building until they agree with our demands.  If need be, we’ll stay day and night.  Your support is necessary for this to work … so, if need be, later on today, come and join us down here to see what you can do to make the occupation an enjoyable experience, as well as an active time.  Now let’s go to the front of the building, sit down on the floor, and open the window so everyone outside will know we’re here, waiting for the response to our demands.”  

He was right: there were an incredible number of people inside, certainly more than the 200 he’d talked about at first.  People spread out all over the place … some stayed downstairs … others went up to the rooms at the upper levels. 

“Come on … let’s join the others,” Jordan said. 

We followed him to the corner just beside the front entrance.  Just beside the door was a window which, I saw, could still be opened.  Andrew joined us with a big smile on his face.  He seemed to be enjoying all of this, just as Jordan was. 

“Guys,“ he said.  “We know you don’t want to be in the spotlight, but I’d like you to meet the people that so far have led this.”  Beside Jordan, Andrew, Peter and Steve, there were at least another 20 students standing down there.  The other gymnastic team members were there … some of the others I recognized but I didn’t know any of them well. 

Not being sure what to say, we just nodded, happy that they were on our side as they talked among themselves. 

When it was almost 9 a. m., Jordan stepped forward. 

“I guess it’s time to see what their response is.  Give the sign and open the windows.”  

We opened the window curtain and saw that some teachers and also the principal were standing there.  We waited a moment, as we wanted them to realize that it was not a small group inside the building.  They understood immediately as all the windows were opened and students started to yell. 

Again Jordan gave a signal and he opened the window.  By the time that was completed, there was absolute silence inside the building. 

“Good morning, sir” Jordan said. 

“Damn, Jordan!  What are you doing?  You know that this can backfire on you?”  

“I’m sure it won’t … I just opened the window to see what your response is.”

“Reply?  Reply?  You know we can’t do this.  You’re just students here.  We know what’s best for you,” one of the teachers standing beside the principal answered. 

“I guess that means ‘no’ then,” Jordan responded.

He just shrugged his shoulders.  Though the principal might not have been in full agreement, it seemed that the parent/teacher association was not going to give in. 

“Yes … a ‘no’ … and you’d better open up this place or we’ll have the police opening it for us.  You’re all here in school legally … as long as teaching is taking place … but I’m sure the police chief will agree that you’re trespassing otherwise … and he’ll send in the police to liberate the school from your occupation.”  

My god!  I wasn’t sure which teacher had said that, but he was sure … very sure … of himself. 

“Well, if that’s your answer, then we don’t have anything to talk about any more,” Jordan said.  Before anyone could answer, he closed his window again and, at the same time, the students started to yell out of the windows again. 

“OK, guys … it’s time for a meeting.  We’ve got to discuss this.”  

Some stayed behind by the door and at the window, keeping an eye on the activity outside. 

“So, just as we expected!” Andrew said. 

“Yea, but not the police,” Peter added.  “We talked about several options, but not about the police getting involved in this.  You think the chief will order the police to force their way in here?”  

It went quiet after that comment.  I knew they didn’t want to use violence … but what if the police tried to force their way in?  They’d probably not be able to keep the students under control in those circumstances. 

“OK, I’m going to give my dad a ring.  He’s a lawyer; he might be able to look into this,” one of the students said.  He walked away. 

“So, what if other students want to come in?” Peter asked. 

“Well, a few of us could go outside and let them know to use the back door.”  

A few left.  We just sat there and drank for a while.  When the student came back, he said his dad was going to take a look into it and let him know by noon. 

We split up and walked around the building, keeping an eye on what was happening.  Some students stayed at the windows to yell and keep an eye on the situation.  So far it had gone quiet outside, as most of the teachers had left.  More and more students had joined the protest and come in the back door, until the entrance had been found by one of the teachers and blocked. 

Around midday, we met in the hall again and talked a bit. 

“Nick, are you still OK with this?” one of the girls asked suddenly. 

A bit surprised, I looked around.  I could see that this was a question that others had wanted to ask, too, but they’d not been sure they could. 

“Yes, I am,” I said softly.  But Jordan saved me from having to say any more. 

“Remember guys, although this started with Nick and Francis, this isn’t about them any more.  This is about equal rights for everyone to be themselves … for the right to a free press that respects diversity … for the rights of parents to have a real say in the operation of the school.”  

“Yea, we know, Jordan … but, still, Nick is dealing with enough as it is.  Does he want to involve himself in this, too?”  

“No, it’s OK,” Francis said.  “We’ve talked about this and it’s helping us.  Your overwhelming support has surprised us and it means a lot, right, Nick?”  

“Yes, he’s right, guys.  Last week, I wasn’t sure if I could go on with this … but now, I just have to make sure others are safe from them … just like you have to go out and make sure that the school is not being controlled by a vocal minority.”  

There were more nods and it got silent again, some sipping on a cup of coffee or tea. 

Should I tell them?  It probably was a good thing to do, a preparation that could help me testify in court … or that’s what the shrink would have argued. 

“Guys, I know that you don’t know all that happened to me with the doctors … and most of you got what you know out of the newspaper … and only Steve has got the situation right so far.  Since I’m going to take the stand on Thursday anyway, I think it’s time to tell you a bit more about what happened.  I think Steve will publish more if he can on Friday anyway.”   I’d looked at Steve and he nodded.  “If I can, I will, Nick … just as we agreed before this all started.”  

“Good,” I said. 

Over the next 30 minutes I told them just about everything that had happened … how I was blackmailed into it, and then taken hostage at the hotel.  I didn’t go into much detail, but I got my point across, I’m sure.  When I stopped talking, I saw that most of them had disbelief on their faces … some even had tears rolling down their cheeks … some had started to hold hands. 

“He’s telling the truth, guys, I know,” Andrew said. 

Now, that was a surprise!  I looked at him and one part of me hoped he knew what he was getting himself into. 

“I know he’s right because it happened to me, too.”  

I could see that some of them were just realizing what Andrew had just said and they looked at Peter now. 

“Yea, we’re gay and have been a couple for almost two years now,” Peter said. 

“Told you so!” one of the girls said.  “You owe me ten bucks!” she added to the girls sitting beside her. 

We were saved by the bell at that point as one of the mobiles started to ring.  “My dad,” the lawyer’s son said as he answered.  He went quiet then. 

We waited for the phone call to end but we saw by the smile on his face that he’d gotten some good news from his dad. 

But before the phone call was ended, we were disturbed by someone outside using a megaphone.  We walked to the window and opened the curtain. 

“Come on, guys, let’s talk.  Otherwise, we’ll have to bring in the police.”  His threats were strengthened by the fact that there were around 10 policemen there.  Not enough to get in, I was sure of that, but still enough to let his threat become a bit more meaningful. 

“We want to talk, so open that window.”  

“We won’t,” one of the students yelled from outside the window on the first floor.  “That would just make it too easy for you to get inside with the assistance of those policemen.  You can talk from there and we’ll answer you from up here.”  

“Are you in charge now?” the principal asked. 

‘No one is in charge, sir.  We’re all in this together.”  

“Come on, we can talk about this.  You should respect the opinion of your parents and teachers.”  

“They are not our parents and if they’re teachers, they’re setting the wrong example,” a student from the first floor answered.  It was one of the guys who’d been downstairs before now answering.  It was good again that someone else was speaking.  It would make them understand hopefully that this was for real. 

“Open up so some of us can come in and we can talk about this.”  

‘No, you know our demands.  If you’re ready to give in on them, you’ll be welcome back in to talk.”   

We knew that would never happen.  The teacher/parent association had probably met last night, rejected our demands, and then not met since we’d occupied the school that morning. 

The megaphone was torn out of the principal’s hands again.  “You really want us to get the police to force their way in, then?” someone shouted. 

“They could try, but I’m not sure they look particularly happy with the idea of using force on students.”  

He’d been correct as the one in command had stepped back a bit and was busy talking on the phone with someone senior. 

“Come on, guys.  You know that when the educational authorities get together, they’ll advise the chief to use force to ensure the students can get an education.  At the moment you’re preventing that from happening.”  

“I think that, for now, we’re finished talking.  Come back when you’re ready to talk for real,” the student downstairs answered.  I could hear all windows closing to let them know they’d stopped listening. 

Although the teacher kept talking, we went back to the side of the hall. 

“Oh, you guys are going to love this.  We’re going to make sure we’re one step ahead of them,” the student who had been on the phone said, smiling broadly.  

To be continued...