By Giovanni Catapano
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Now, you see, it’s out of the way,” she says. And I nod. One thing I know is my mother would never have done a thing like this. She tried hard to be polite to the other person’s way of looking at things. Plus she knew what was worth it to say and what wasn’t. This was definitely not worth it. I feel like leaving, but there is Cynthia, waving from the front porch. Well, she of course is the one I came to see. ” Mrs. O’Connell yells to her. “In in in! ” Cynthia disappears back inside and I meet up with her again in the hallway.
She has a whistle around her neck, and her hair is pulled back into a ponytail although it’s not long enough for one. It’s like she’s so strict even her hair cannot be loose. She carries around a clipboard to write mean things down about you, and once when I failed to clear the bar for the high jump, she hit me on the butt with it. It was because in her opinion I should have been able to do it. I tried again, failed again, but she didn’t hit me again because I wasn’t worth it. If I ever get to be God, I’m calling all the gym teachers in the world into one room to say this: All right, knock it off!!
Then I do it again. Then, since I apparently have all of a sudden mastered that, I think maybe I’ll try something harder. I stop, try to skate backward, and fall down. Well, there. I knew it. It’s always a surprise the first time you fall. That’s the one that hurts the most. Usually by the time I’m done skating falling is so natural I don’t feel it at all. I get up quickly now, try again. But nothing happens except that I take wobbly baby steps in the backward direction.