by JH Terry
IX: Mathematics, History, and Art
Tom, Peter, Porting, Riply, Nero, Dylan, David, Quincy, and Frederick continued to walk through the halls of Sudbury High. They had already been able to remove some of the food from off of their clothing, but each knew the views of his mother.
“My mom is going to kill me,” said Dylan. “No question about that. Then you will be finally happy David at no longer having a twin.”
“Mom’s going to kill me too. So only Jill and Patrick will be left. I guess all the frustration of raising twins will finally be off her back.”
“I guess the maid will get what she is paid for,” said Porting with a little laugh. “I cannot wait to see her expression over the rotting cheese. Perhaps I will get a better uniform instead. Let me go into the bathroom and try to find something revolting enough so that I can,” said Porting as he disappeared momentarily to the bathroom. Coming back out he said, “No use, they already cleaned it. Alas, it is not my lucky day.”
“Well, with a suitable wash under the correct conditions of detergent amount, aeration of the washing apparatus, duration, water flow and hardness my clothes will be in fine condition,” said Riply with a smile at knowing all was not lost.
However, out of all of them Nero was the worst. “It is unbelievable. I am crawling with food all over my body. You cannot even see my clothes. It does not even look like I am wearing anything but potato with hunks of moldy cheese. No wonder this food was free. It looks like it was still in the kitchen from last year. I cannot even put my clothes in the washing machine. I’ll need to have a hosing down, nothing else.”
“What time is it?” asked David.
“It is almost time for our first lesson of the day,” said Porting looking at his $5,000 watch as if it were a mere expense.
“We have got to get to Business Economics with Mr. Berry,” said David to Dylan, Quincy, Frederick, and Nero.
“Mr. Berry?” asked Tom.
“Do not worry about him,” said Porting. “We do not have him today, luckily. However, he is stringent about being late to class and he loves to give complex homework assignments simultaneously due for the same day.”
“Oh,” said Tom slightly distressed.
“All right,” said Dylan. “See you later.”
The boys all said good-bye to each other and went their ways. Tom, Peter, Porting and Riply walked with each other to Mathematics with Professor Victor Gemrod.
“Porting,” asked Tom. “How did you know about Baldeye’s want to read the novels in his bookcase?”
“Everybody knows about the Baldeye speech. Even though he has perfected it throughout the years, the same basic things are still put in there.”
“I did not know about that speech,” said Peter.
“That is because you do now ask about it,” said Porting with a smile.
“Tom,” said Peter as Porting and Riply were a slight distance in front of them. “What do you make of those tablets and that nurse you got them from?”
“I do not know Peter. I do not know many things right now, but I think with time something should turn up, it always does.”
“That is true, it always does.”
“Who is Mr. Gemrod?”
“He is very stern, but also very understanding. It is like he is water: sometimes boiling hot, other times lukewarm, and others ice.”
“Hmm,” said Tom. He could see there seemed to be a recurring theme with the teachers at this school.
As Tom and Peter entered the classroom it seemed quite cold with its rigid vertical lines and dark colors, but soon the voices of other grade elevens made it dissipate. The students sat at various tables, with Tom and Peter sitting next to each other in the middle of the classroom. Soon, Mr. Gemrod entered the room with various books about mathematics under his arm. He was a very thin, tall man, about six feet in height and forty years of age, with blond hair and cold grey eyes. Everyone stood as he entered, as was the procedure at Sudbury High.
“Morning gentlemen,” said Mr. Gemrod without even looking to the class and seeming as if the students did not exist.
“Good morning, sir,” said all of the students save one boy in the back right-hand corner.
Without even looking, Mr. Gemrod said, “You there, in the back right-hand corner, I did not hear a good morning from you. What is wrong, you lost your sense of speech boy? Must I teach it to you, or shall Mr. Baldeye?”
Slightly blushed, the boy said, “No, sir.”
“No to what?” asked Gemrod as he was now looking at the boy. “You did not lose your sense of speech, there is nothing wrong with you, or that you must not be taught a lesson?”
“I meant professor that I do not need to be taught a lesson, my speech is no longer lost.”
“Good, then, endeavor not to lose it again. What is your name?”
“Peterson, professor, William Peterson.”
“William derived from the word will, desire, and helm, to protect. Perhaps it would be to your own desire to protect yourself from your mental lapses.”
“I shall try to do so, sir.”
“No, you will do better than that, you will do it. Now class, I am sure you have all purchased your school material for this class already since I already sent it to your representative homes two weeks ago. Is there anyone that has not purchased his materials for this class?” To the side one boy with flashing orange hair and blue eyes raised his hand, knowing fully well the consequences of such an action. Coldly, Mr. Gemrod said, “What’s your excuse this year Philips?”
“Nothing, professor,” said Philips becoming with each passing moment even redder in his face. “Money is tight this year professor, that is all.”
“Hmm,” murmured Mr. Gemrod, “money seems to be tight every year for your family Philips. Do you have a note from home stating the situation?”
“Yes, professor,” said Philips, “I gave it to the woman in reception.”
“All right, Philips, just share for now. We shall try to do something about the situation in the mean time. Now, let’s go to chapter one and start…” said Gemrod when he saw Riply, in the front, raising his hand into the air. Distraught, Gemrod said, “What is it Riply?”
“Sir, I believe that you forgot to place a roll call to ensure that everyone in class is present.”
Gemrod turned around, smiling a little. As his back was facing them, Peter whispered to Tom, “Riply is an authority on precision. He always does his little statements, to Gemrod’s irritation of course. I guess he is glad this is the last year he will be having to teach Riply.”
Gemrod faced Riply, “Riply, if there is someone absent that is not my problem. I am here to teach, not to be the school’s leading babysitter. Anymore questions, Riply?”
“None, sir,” said Riply.
As he was about to return to his book, Gemrod viewed Tom. He had not noticed him before in the class, and said, “Well, we have a new student in our midst. I thought the population of Sudbury would have decreased due to the previous school year’s incident. What is your name?”
“Tom Reed, sir,” said Tom after he stood up.
“Tom,” said Gemrod flickering the name through his mind, “from the name Thomas, Greek in derivation meaning twin. Reed, referred to as red or ruddy. Looks like you have already caused a great ruddy mess in this school just on your first day, Mr. Reed. Who is your father?”
“Andrew Reed, attorney at law, professor,” said Tom to the look of disgust on Mr. Gemrod’s face.
“Andrew Reed is your father?” asked Gemrod surprised. “The one who is doing the Varistor case and who was involved with the infamous O’Peter case? I did not know Reed was married, let be a father. I did not know his conscious could allow it to occur. I shall have to keep my guard up for you, or else you might do something drastic in order to maintain your prestige. However, I shall not be too biased against you Reed, no one can accuse me of that. I shall teach you, but remember I shall keep
my eye on you, so you better watch your every move or you might find yourself on a ripple out of this school. Now, sit down along with the others.”
Tom sat down, unsure of what the O’Peter case was or what it entailed as Mr. Gemrod continued to teach keeping a watchful eye on Tom, making sure that Tom was not misbehaving or doing anything out of line.
Soon the bell rang and the boys began to leave quickly after it. After all of the boys, except Tom and Peter, left the class and as Tom was about to leave, Mr. Gemrod said as he sat at his desk, “Thomas Reed, come here.”
“Tom,” said Peter concerned.
“Peter, it’s all right, I shall be to history soon, just go on without me.”
Peter left as Tom went to Mr. Gemrod’s desk. “I am sorry if I startled you, Tom,” said Gemrod, “for now I see that you know nothing of the O’Peter case. I would just like to say this one thing, never let ambition ride your coattails and then your mind, for then there will be no way to stop it, or only stop it when it is too late.”
“Sir, what exactly do you mean?” asked Tom somewhat perplexed.
“Tom, you are a clever boy, sooner or later you will figure it out, and besides,” said Mr. Gemrod as he gave Tom a slip of paper excusing Tom’s lateness to his next class due to Gemrod’s intervention, “you seem to not carry the same wants that your father once possessed so well. Good day, Reed.”
“Good day, sir,” said Tom. Tom left the classroom and as he travelled out of Professor Gemrod’s classroom he bumped into a very large object. Upon observation, Tom could see that it was Lutid.
“It’s you again. What are you doing out of class roaming the halls?” asked Lutid.
Seeing the commotion outside, Mr. Gemrod said as he came to the door, “He was with me Lutid, no need to worry.” Looking to Tom, Gemrod said, “You had better be off to class now Reed, or you will have something to worry about.”
As Mr. Gemrod walked down the corridor towards the teacher’s lounge, Lutid said, “Good day to you, sir.”
“Good day to you as well, Lutid.”
Once Gemrod was down the corridor far enough, Lutid said to Tom, “I’ll only stop worrying once you’ve been dealt a blow or two that will straighten your insolence. You can go now boy, but remember I will be watching you.”
Tom walked down the corridors toward his history classroom. Upon looking behind him he saw that Lutid was watching his every step, as if they could discern to Lutid Tom’s character.
Tom soon came to his classroom. Mr. Popperbridge had not come yet, and they all sat down to their desks waiting. Ten minutes passed as they waited for Popperbridge to come, but there was no sign of him. After fifteen minutes had passed, one boy said, “He’s not coming, Popperbridge forgot that we have class now.”
Another boy with black hair said, “We better leave, there’s no use in staying.”
As the other boys debated, Tom asked, “Peter, who’s Mr. Popperbridge exactly?”
“Well, he’s relatively young, just came two years ago, but he is very kind, considerate, and lenient. All of the boys like him, especially for his eccentric ways.”
“Eccentric, in what way?”
“He is just overly enthusiastic to his work, that is all, so much so that he dons various costumes to show what he is talking about.”
Tom looked perplexed, “That is strange. Does Mr. Baldeye allow it?”
“I don’t know, but Popperbridge does it anyway. It is really good, and none of his students have ever failed, so I guess it is beneficial.”
Tom looked to a side door, where he could discern two scared green eyes looking at the students in the class. “Peter,” said Tom, “look over there by the door, do you see what I see.”
Peter looked, but said, “What Tom? I cannot see anything but the door.”
As Tom was about to venture over to the door, a large figure with a yellow, orange, and white chicken costume complete with feathers and a relatively large yellow beak came from behind the door. It was five foot eleven inches in height. The boys sat in their chairs surprised at what was before them – the biggest chicken they had ever seen.
“Is it dinner already?” asked Porting to Tom and Peter. “Mother said chicken tonight, but I did not know it would be this big!”
The chicken walked over to the desk and said, “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
“Good afternoon, sir,” all of them replied as they stood up abruptly with slight smiles upon some of their faces.
Looking to Peter, Tom heard Peter whisper, “It’s Popperbridge all right.”
“You may be seated,” said the chicken. “Sorry for my delay gentlemen, but at a local charity to raise awareness for the benefits of chicken consumption, my costume, the one you see before you, was quite maladaptive to our English weather, thus causing a slight conglomeration of my various zipper parts. Thus, in today’s English, I am stuck in my suit. Therefore, I cannot wear my costume meant for today’s class, therefore you will have to bear the strange attire for a short while. Now, back to history, we shall talk about William the Conqueror.” However, in that short elapse of time, Popperbridge could see that his students would take no focus over the work at hand but of the work he wore. Therefore, slightly forthcoming, Popperbridge said, “Gentleman, so that you do not remain like pieces of ice, I shall demonstrate to you the first Thanksgiving in America. You see, when the Puritans first came to America they were not adapted to the land. Therefore, they starved and suffered through many diseases. That was until they got jiggy with some Native American neighbors, who gave them turkey at the first Thanksgiving in November. That is why they celebrate Thanksgiving in November till this very day. Even though the Native Americans were to lose their lands to, be given alien diseases by, and become utterly decimated by the Europeans that came to reside in the Americas, at least they got some of that turkey.” Seeing that Riply was raising his hand, Popperbridge said slightly saddened, “What is it now, Riply?”
“Sir, but you’re a chicken.”
“I know Riply, just play around with the story.” Shrugging, Riply continued to listen to Mr. Popperbridge. “Now, gentlemen, let me just try one more time with this zipper. Does anyone have some lubricant, oil, hair grease that they could let me use?” Seeing a bottle of lubricant spray on a shelf, Tom retrieved it and placed it upon Popperbridge’s zipper. Soon, Popperbridge was able to zip off the chicken head from his own showing a large amount of dark brown hair and green eyes. “Thank you,” said Popperbridge to Tom. “What is your name?”
“Thomas Reed, sir,” said Tom.
“Well Reed, my brain, which felt as if it were being suffocated, thanks you, therefore making it a thank you from me.”
“Your welcome, sir,” said Tom as he returned to his desk.
Mr. Popperbridge walked over to a special enclosed walled section of his classroom and took off his chicken costume. When he came out again he revealed another costume of armor. “My goodness, he went a bit overboard this time, really overboard,” muttered Peter.
“Now gentlemen, back to the issue of William the Conqueror, who defeated Harold, who took his throne in 1066, thus starting the era of Norman kings in Saxon England. This is a time when we get the stories of Robin Hood, Ivanhoe, and the evil Prince John. William was the illegitimate son of Robert I, duke of Normandy. Upon Robert’s death, he became duke of Normandy. He is said to have received from the English king, Edward the Confessor, a promise that he would be king of England, and when Harold, Earl of Wessex, was shipwrecked in Normandy and imprisoned by William sometime later, William made Harold promise that he would support William’s claim to be England’s king upon Edward’s death. When Edward died, however, Harold was proclaimed King of England. Therefore, with a sanction by the pope, William invaded England. When William, from Normandy in France thus showing his being called a Norman, came to fight Harold at the Battle of Hastings on October 14, as can be shown by me being William in my great armor, he was with few
er men, but his men had not endured the battling that Harold’s men had endured against the Norwegians and his brother Tostig in the North, and the Normans were under better leadership. Instead of Harold waiting for reinforcements or letting his men rest awhile, he rushed his men to the southern part of England to fight against these invaders, hoping to catch them by surprise. Instead,” as Professor Popperbridge released from his side a pencil in the place of a sword and made various swishes with it into the open air, “William was victorious, winning over England, why? Because he had fresh men, and discipline and morale amongst his men and Harold did not. It is a great page out of history gentlemen, one that can be compared to the Normandy invasion of World War II, but for that period of time, it was astounding. Now, I want each of you to envision yourselves as either a Norman or Saxon during this time, how would you feel about your circumstance during the battle. Then, I want you to write about how you would feel as both a Norman and Saxon about this occurrence. Then, once completed, we shall go to our books and see how exactly they felt and the truth and fiction to such stories as Robin Hood and Ivanhoe. Commence.”
As the boys were working, Mr. Popperbridge went back into the walled enclosure and took off his armor. When he came back into view he was wearing a grey suit, white shirt and a red and black bow tie. He then placed upon his face gold rimmed spectacles with round lenses. After fifteen minutes, Mr. Popperbridge asked, “Finished, gentlemen?”
“Finished, sir.”
“Good, then, let’s open our textbooks to page twelve. On this page we can see a heading labelled, ‘The result.’ Read this excerpt, and continue until you reach page twenty-five. For tonight, I want you to write three diary entries as if you were either a Norman or Saxon and talk about life around you on either when Edward the Confessor died and Harold became king, before the Battle of Hastings; when the Norwegians and Tostig invaded England, during the Battle of Hastings; about the excitation over its result, immediately after the battle; the months before William’s coronation as king in Westminster Abbey, Christmas Day, 1066; or after the coronation, but before William’s death in 1087. Please have this done by tomorrow because we shall be beginning the section about Richard the first and his brother John. Now, read the pages that I have highlighted for you for the remainder of the class.”
• • • • • • • • •
Simultaneously, all the clocks in Sudbury High struck two. Along with it the school bell rang, marking the end of the academic day.
Tom and Peter were walking together as Peter talked to Tom about his great error in mathematics class last school year with Mr. Gemrod for the hundredth time since it had occurred.
“Tom, I swear it wasn’t my fault, but I couldn’t help it. Five seconds in and I was already feeling drowsy. By the time the thirty-minute bell rang, I could see double of everything. Then, Mr. Gemrod asked me the answer from some questions he gave us to do in the first session. Tom, instead of saying the correct answer, which was 44, I said 4,444. If you could have seen the eyes popping out of his head you would have been laughing like everyone else. How embarrassing, hey Tom?” asked Peter, but he noticed Tom was not next to him any longer, but had stopped before a yard wide by two yard long portrait opposite the Rose Courtyard.
Peter walked up to Tom and looked at the portrait. Below the portrait was a white sign with black letters that said, “NO TOUCHING!!!!” The portrait was of a man with light brown hair. The man was wearing a white and tan striped suit, white shirt and tan necktie. “Is something wrong, Tom?”
Tom looked dazed at Peter, “Do you know who this is?”
“Of course,” said Peter. “Everyone is drilled to know who he is in Grade 8.”
“Yes, it is understandable now, nearly everything.”
“What is understandable? Why do you want to know who he is?”
“Nothing, really. I guess I just dreamed about this picture some time before, but only now it came into my memory again.”
“You mean like a flash?”
“Something like that Peter. Let’s go to the public library, I want to find some research on our friend here.” Looking to a gold plate next to the picture, Tom read the following words:
In dedication to a great man, inspiration, and hero,
our school’s founder, Mr. Reilly Andrunop Pete
“Yes, to an inspiration,” said Tom before he walked off with Peter out of the school.
