Read The Life and Times of Benny Alvarez for Free Online Page B

to you.” I make a mental note to look up “wordsmith” in Proteus , while she says, “And Benny will be working with . . . Sara Samuels.”
    Man, did I luck out. Sara is a neutral, a shy, quiet girl. She’s the smartest kid in English class and has always had a crush on me, so I’m thinking she’ll go along with what I say.
    Ms. D announces the rest of the names and we take our seats very quickly, so that Caulfield will have a half hour to do his thing. The only weird pairing is Big Joe and Paige, which gets a loud laugh from the class, since it’s like putting Shrek and Selena Gomez together.
    Caulfield begins with some exercises on metaphor, writing on the board, “My love is a red rose” and “My love is like a red rose,” asking which one is a metaphor, which a simile. That’s easy and boring, but then things get interesting when he says, “How can your beloved, or love in general, be a red rose? Isn’t a red rose a red rose?”
    Claudine pounces on that one. “It’s really a red rose,” she says, “but has things in common with love.”
    â€œCan you explain that more clearly, young lady?” Caulfield says.
    Claudine’s thinking hard, but it’s clear she doesn’t have a quick answer. I’m waiting, actually hoping, for her to blush, but I guess it’s not in her makeup.
    Caulfield gives her a bit longer, then says, “Why don’t we ask the wordsmith?” I’m looking around the classroom, wondering who he’s talking about, until I remember it’s me. He points to the sentences again, leaping off Ms. D’s desk like he just sat on a wasp. “Let’s start with the literal things we associate with a rose.”
    I think about this, then say, “A rose grows, it’s beautiful, it kind of glows in the sun.”
    Caulfield’s really worked up now, writing each of my responses on the board, then asking the class what they have to do with love, and everyone begins to see the connections. “Love grows too,” Paige says.
    â€œAnd it’s beautiful,” Sara adds, looking a little too longingly at me.
    â€œAnd sometimes people blush when they’re in love,” Beanie says, not knowing he’ll take a pounding for that one later.
    â€œBut it also has thorns,” I say.
    â€œMr. Happiness to the rescue,” Claudine says, shaking her head disgustedly.
    â€œBut Benny’s right,” Caulfield responds, and I’m thinking, You go, Caulfield, surprised to discover this unlikely ally.
    â€œWhat does love have to do with a thorny rose, Benny?”
    â€œIt can hurt,” I say.
    â€œAnd that’s what makes this metaphor so powerful.”
    I’m waiting for the class to lift me onto their shoulders and carry me to the cafeteria, where I’ll be fed a giant banana split, but no one but Caulfield seems overly excited, so he offers a few more metaphors, then moves to what he calls object poems, one cool one called “Hanger”:
    Â 
    Hanger
    Protean instrument,
    I bow curved-neck before you.
    Yes, you are a child’s toy:
    a metal bow for straw arrows,
    a back scratcher, a toothless smile,
    you old extended question mark, you,
    I offer you in amazement
    the shirt off my back.
    Â 
    He explains that like Proteus, the shape-shifting Greek god, a hanger, too, resembles many different objects and has many different purposes, and that the poet thinks this is so cool that he bows “curved-neck” to the hanger. “It’s a simple poem,” he says, “but after reading it, you’ll never look at a hanger the same way again.”
    Finally, Caulfield gets to our assignment. We’re supposed to work with our partner to write a short object poem but not divulge the title, so he and the class can guess it at a later date. He also says he’ll give out a few prizes for the best poems. “You don’t have to