Chapter 3

A few days had past since a teary eyed Mr. Simmons left the classroom. A substitute teacher had arrived the next day, explaining that Mr. Simmons was on sick leave and would come back soon but everyone knew the real reason why he left. Guilt sat like a dark halo on the heads of almost every child, the weight of it making them slump in their seats. It was never said aloud, for fear that the spoken words could jinx it and banish him forever. But every one of them kept wondering: would he ever come back?

It wasn't long until news of Mr. Simmons had spilled out from the walls of P.S.118 and into the streets and homes of Hillwood. The kids would come home and hear their parents talk about Mr. Simmons, either with them or behind closed doors. Some families, like Harold's and Phoebe's parents, were supportive of Mr. Simmons and wanted him to continue teaching. Others, like Stinky's and Rhonda's were adamantly against Mr. Simmons "lifestyle choices" and wanted him fired. The gossip created friction against mother and father, sibling against sibling, and child against parent as opinions on the matter were shared, only to for them to be surprised that not everyone in their family thought the same thing.

When the subject was brought up in Gerald's house, Gerald's parents gathered their family for a talk. Everything was going smoothly until Gerald's older brother, Jamie O, cracked a gay joke at the table, causing a heated argument between both boys. Gerald and Jamie O nearly got into a fistfight before their parents stopped them, the situation only cooling off once both boys were sent to their rooms.

Meanwhile in Sid's apartment, the discussion was kept out of sight but it was easy to overhear what was said in the tiny space. Sid sat in the hallway outside of his parents bedroom and kept an ear to the door as they talked about Mr. Simmons. The conversation quickly left his teacher however and became about Sid. His mother accused his father of being too lenient in Sid's choice of heeled boots, of not letting Sid toughen up and be more like what a boy should be.

Sid's eyes shifted to his room and to the nightstand where a yearbook photo of Stinky was tucked neatly underneath piles of mismatched socks. Maybe it was time to get rid of it, just in case.

In Helga's house, the evening started off as usual. Miriam had managed to burn the steak to a crisp and created an oasis of milk in the soggy mashed potatoes. When Helga arrived at the dinner table, her mother was already nodding off, muttering to herself while Big Bob clenched his jaw as he looked down at the mess that was their dinner for the night.

Seeing that her father was already in a bad mood, Helga silently shoveled food into her mouth.

"So Olga, I heard about your teacher, Mr. Simon."

Helga scowled from behind her folk and swallowed. "It's Helga, Bob. And my teacher's name is Simmons."

"Yeah, whatever. Simmons, Simon, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's gay and teaching you and the rest of your little friends about his gay agenda."

Helga's next words were drenched in sarcasm. "Oh really? And what's this gay agenda exactly? Geography? History?"

Sensing his daughter's attitude, Bob pointed a fork at her with a tight lipped frown. "Don't get uppity with me young lady! You know what I mean. He'll teach kids that it's okay to be gay!"

Helga crossed her arms, raising a uni brow in defiance. "In case you haven't noticed Dad, it's a free country. People can be gay if they want to. Besides, Mr. Simmons never talked about his personal life. He teaches us the stuff we need to pass the fourth grade and that's it."

"See? I knew it!" Bob threw his hands in the air, causing Miriam to wake up with a startled snort. "You already got it into your head that it's okay to be gay! And it's not!"

At this point, Helga would normally have had enough of her father, but she wanted to know why her father held on to his crazy conspiracy.

"And what's so wrong with being gay? Give me one good reason."

"Well first off, it's unnatural. A man should be with a woman and a woman should be with a man. That's just how it is. Isn't that right Miriam?"

Miriam hesitated for a few seconds before Big Bob gave her a hard nudge with his elbow. "Er, yeah, Helga, just listen to your father. He just wants what's best for you."

"And what's best for you little lady, is that you're not being taught by a fruit. That nancy boy has got to go."

There was a clatter of silverware as Helga shoved herself away and got up from the table. "Your reason is the stupidest thing that I've ever heard in my life. Don't bother trying to give me any more of your crap because there's nothing wrong with being gay. Actually being gay is better than just okay, it's great, wonderful even! And guess what? Mr. Simmons is the greatest teacher I've ever had, so you can stick that up your pipe and-"

Helga's father shot up from his seat, his fists tightening until his knuckles turned white. His face, from his beefy neck up to his ears, had turned tomato red. His breathing became ragged, like a caged bull ready to charge. "Pataki, you better apologize right now or I swear I'll-"

There were very few things in this world that Helga was afraid of and her father wasn't one of them. Narrowing her eyes, she mouthed out one word and one word only: "No".

That was the last straw for Bob. He lunged from across the table, sending dishes crashing on the floor. Before he could grab Helga's shirt, a hand was pressed, gently but firmly, on Bob's back.

"B, please."

Miriam looked to Helga, her eyes clear and sober. Her mouth was halfway between a concerned frown and a pained wince, as if she wanted to apologize to her but was too afraid of the repercussions. "Helga, go to your room. We'll talk later."

For a brief moment, Helga's expression softened when she met her mother's eyes. But as quickly as it appeared, the softness was soon gone, buried under her diamond hard exterior. Without a word, Helga stomped to her room and slammed the door behind her.

Bob exhaled loudly, rubbing his pink temples. "Miriam, we got to get that girl under control. She's driving me nuts!"

His wife rubbed his back in small circles, attempting to soothe the savage beast that was her husband. "B, I know things are tough but maybe you should-"

Bob interrupted her, not wanting to hear any of of what he called, "wussy sensitivity talk". Jerking away from Miriam, Bob walked to the foyer, grabbing his coat from the closet.

Miriam trailed behind, watching him from behind her glasses.

"Miriam, I swear I'm gonna get that teacher fired, even if that's the last thing I do."

"And how are you going to do that?"

Bob shot her an annoyed look. "Miriam, I don't want sass from you either. If it isn't bad enough getting back talk from the girl, I don't want it coming from you too."

He zipped up his jacket, adjusting the collar in the mirror. "Anyways, I got power, influence. I'm the Beeper King for cripes sake! I can get whatever I want. And by the end of next week, that fairy's gonna be halfway to San Francisco."

Before Miriam could get a word in, her husband was already out the door. For a while she stood there, trying to process everything that had happened. But once it became too overwhelming, Miriam retreated back to the kitchen, her hands grasping a bottle of that cold and familiar comfort. Now was a good a time as any to have a drink.