Read Finding Hope in Texas for Free Online Page B

probably
ruined her life before she was born by being a teacher?”
    “Mmm, we mostly talked about music. She said
I played well.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him she thought he
ought to calm his teaching methods down for the good of his job. He
was a little unorthodox sure, but at least he wasn’t a drone
teaching to a test. That was one thing I had heard about enough
already from every other teacher, that the state exams were coming
up in April and they were going to be especially hard. I mean, who
cared? If you taught what you were supposed to teach in a way that
would keep a student’s attention, shouldn’t they learn it and be
able to pass without being reminded day after day?
    “Oh, what do you play?” he asked.
    “The violin.”
    “Well, very impressive. I never had an ear
for music, to play it, anyway. Elizabeth got hers from her mother,
so if she says you are good, then I’m sure she is right. She even
played the xylophone well as a baby. We could probably use you out
in the field someday.”
    “Well, they don’t really do string
instruments in the band.”
    “That’s not what I’m talking about. Say, what
happened to your eye?”
    The bell rang and Mr. Peet walked down the
side of the room towards the door to greet the incoming students.
It was something all the teachers did really, keeping one eye on
the hallway and one eye in their classroom. Certainly, I was glad
the bell distracted him before I tried to make up a lie about the
swelling around my eye, but I was confused about what he meant by
needing me “in the field.” Was there some other band that I didn’t
know about here in Texas? I hoped he wasn’t referring to country
music. A little was fine, but I didn’t know how much of dead dogs
and mommas in prison I could stand. Still, I guess my life right
now would have made a good country song—dead family, no friends,
crazy aunt. And the violin, sorry, the fiddle down here, was either
played too fast because the devil went down to Georgia or Alabama
or somewhere, or was played at a pace that left you wanting to kill
yourself. I really didn’t want to play it either way. Just give me
some classical music and I’d be fine.
    Mr. Peet called the roll quickly by only
using our last names as the formalities of the first two days of
the semester were over. When he called, “Miss Kilpatrick,” someone
in the back of the room said loud enough for everyone to hear,
“Back-Slapped,” with laughter rising up at my expense. I began to
flush when I felt the penetrating stare of Jody three rows away.
Mr. Peet played it coolly, though.
    “Okay, Thompson, if your girlfriend is
beating you up again, please let the counselor know.” The laughter
was quickly directed at the instigator, but Mr. Peet gave me a
glance, letting me know that he knew what happened to my eye. He
continued with the roll and began the assignment for the day: FDR’s
court-packing fiasco.
    “Now, ladies and gentlemen, you know FDR is
one of my favorite presidents, but he just really shot himself in
the foot with this one. Not that it affected him, being paralyzed
and all.” A few of us gave a small snicker, but there was mostly
silence. “He had both the legislative branch and the executive
branch working for him, but the Supreme Court was standing in the
way. That’s why he tried to put more justices up there, so they
could get more goals of his New Deal passed.”
    A hand went up. It was Jody. “Yes, Miss
Silverton.”
    “Well, that seems logical to me. I mean, he
saw what they were doing, getting in the way of progress. It was
only right that they do what he said. Like, he was the president
and stuff, right?”
    “Yes, but do presidents have all the
power?”
    “Well, maybe they should. You said you liked
him, Mr. Peet. It’s because he did a good job as president, getting
us through that depression thingy and clearing the dust out.”
    “Well, he didn’t actually clear any dust, but
yes, I get what you are