Home
Comments
Untitled II-"Wake up, Jim. You’ll be late to school."
"Coming mother…"
I woke up slowly in my small room. My eyes focused on my model airplane hanging from the ceiling. A P-51 Mustang. It had the most powerful and fastest engine of them all. I watched it as the plane rotated in a circle from its string. A breeze blew through my open window and gently turned the craft in the opposite direction. The sun was already up and the air was warm. Pushing the sheets down I crawled out of bed. The clock on my table read 6:30a.m.
"Hurry up Jim. The bus will be here in a half hour! I’m not going to drive you again if you miss it this time. You’ll have to walk." My mother called from the kitchen.
Not replying, I made my way to the closet. I changed into a pair of corduroy pants and a long sleeved button up shirt. It was warm outside so I left the cuffs unbuttoned and the tails hanging out. Sitting on the edge of my bed I laced up my tennis shoes. Considering that mother would throw a fit if she saw me so untidy, I tucked the tails of my shirt in. When I would get to school I’d pull them back out.
In the kitchen I sat down at the table. Simultaneously mother put down a plate with two sunny side up eggs, a pile of hashbrowns and on the side three sausages. I stared at the plate then looked up at my mom, "What’s this for?"
I picked up my fork and prodded at the food while she talked. When she finished I thanked her half heartedly and started eating. I had a history final in my first class today. The month being June and so near summer every day this week I’ve woken up to think
it was summer, but reality is a harsh reminder. I had another two weeks to go.
I ate while aimlessly trying to remember odd facts and dates of US history. The presidents started with Washington and ended with Johnson. It was all the ones in between I couldn’t remember.
"The bus is here." I looked up from my plate as mom handed me a lunch sac. "Oh! You didn’t finish your breakfast. You need to clean your plate. You know people in the old country died of starvation."
Scooting the chair back I stood up and grabbed my lunch, "But I’d miss the bus." Waving bye to mom I grabbed my books and left the house.
On the bus I sat in my usual seat and stared out the window. I daydreamed about other worlds. Life here was so dull.
Arriving at school I went to my locker.
Turning in the hall my heart jumped. It was Janice. She had long brown hair and brown eyes. She was pretty, smart, and quiet like me, but she was hard for me to get close to. She was also Jewish, but I didn’t mind.
I smiled as she walked by towards history class. She looked confident. I bet she was going to get an A.
Shuffling my feet I too made my way to class. Opening the door and making my way to the desk. As I sat down the bell rang. Mr. Didrickson, our teacher, solemnly walked to the front of the class and waited for everyone’s attention. The class fell silent and he began speaking. He paced back and forth talking in his high pitched voice. I thought he was going to start talking about the test, giving us a lecture, that kind of thing. But he was talking about something else. He began talking about the population where we lived. How Encino, California was a prominent Jewish community. Then started talking about another Arab/Israeli war that just started. I could already hear my dad cursing the Jews and I wasn’t even home yet.
For a half hour he talked about how horrible Arabs were and how the Israelites deserved to be left alone in peace. Then he stopped. The whole class remained silent as Mr. Didrickson turned his eyes on me.
"Jim Khouri. Well, you’re an Arab. What do you think of all this?"
I felt a blush rise in my cheeks. I opened my mouth to say something, to protest, but nothing came out except, "How should I know?"
The teacher gestured to me with an open hand, "Don’t you have an opinion?" asking in a soothing tone as if he had to lure the answer out. The other kids were turning in their seats to look at me. Waiting to hear what I was going to say. I noticed Janice was scowling. "Pig."
"But I’m American!" Janice had called me a pig. Bristling I tried to sink down in my chair. I wanted to be far away.
When the bell rang for lunch, I went straight to the bathroom. I turned on the faucet and splashed my face with cold water. Looking up in the mirror I stared into my blue eyes. How was I supposed to know how Arabs on the other side of the world felt? I knew I was half Arabic; half Lebanese, but it doesn't mean I think like them.
Three guys from my history class walked into the restroom. "Hey, Abdul! You, Raghead!" they were looking for a fight, but I didn’t give them one. I left quickly for the lunchroom where I met up with my friend Dave. He slapped my arm as I sat down next to him at the table. He was also Jewish. He didn’t say anything about the war in the Middle East, and neither did I.***
The school bus drove off, leaving me standing in front of my house. Mother heard me open the door and walked into the living room, drying her hands on her apron. "Is there something wrong?" I shook my head and walked to my room, closing the door behind me. I dropped my books on the floor and fell back onto my bed. My eyes focused on my P-51 Mustang model airplane. It was still spinning peacefully. I sighed. 14 days till summer.