A Forth Excerpt from Ne'er Do Well

Chapter 4

“How much further?”
“It’s only another four blocks. We’ll be there soon.”

Steve and Jerry were on their way to the Association’s home-base. Jerry had been persistent in his persuasive maneuvers and had finally succeeded in convincing Steve to come. It was not long after that Jerry stopped moving
“I thought you said four blocks. This is only two.”
Jerry made a ‘Shush’ noise and placed a couple of fingers in front of his mouth. He whispered
“We’re here.”

They were standing in front of a seemingly empty lot, but, on closer inspection, a small shed sat in the middle of the insignificant, white field. At this point, Steve knew that the association was serious business. He could tell that they knew how to stay under the radar. Jerry walked forward to the white moon bathed field and motioned Steve to follow. Steve followed.

When they arrived at the abandoned, wooden shed, Steve noticed something of interest: The doors were unguarded and the entire structure was close to falling apart. Much to Steve’s surprise, Jerry went around the shed and lifted a rather large barrel and placed it aside. Underneath, a simple piece of grass, untouched by the white blanket that covered nearly all of the field. Jerry lifted the grass, obviously fake, and revealed a coppery, rusted door of sorts. The door looked nonfunctional and ancient to him. Jerry knocked on the door twice, pricked his finger with a needle and proceeded to place it in a hole conveniently located on the door. “Did you get your tetanus shot?” Steve giggled silently to himself and gained no response. Then, the door slowly creaked open, creating an unbearable noise similar to the sound of nails screeching on a chalk board. It had reminded him of the unbearable lashings he had received in grade school when he had played hooky. What was he doing, you ask? Fishing. Steve was an excellent fisher and could perhaps make a business out of the sport. This moment was, to him, like fishing. He sat and waited, patiently, for something grand, something marvelous to pop up and surprise him.

After three more inner grates opened, Jerry pulled out a rope and a lighter and descended down the deep, almost humid hole. Perhaps it was in some way connected to the sewers. Steve bent over and took a whiff before starting his descension. Yep. The aromatic, sweet, tingling smell of urine. It was an unbearable scent that had caused him to place his hand over his nostrils. He then realized that he needed both hands to climb down the rope. He sighed, took the rope in both hands, and began lowering himself. When he finally reached the bottom, there was Jerry, wagging his tail in anxious anticipation. The man was patiently awaiting his master, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth. In this case, of course, the roles are reversed, but we can play along, can we not?

In the chamber was nothing of particularly noteworthy example except perhaps a stone wall, a few barrels, and the lack thereof of any outside light. I suppose this is why Jerry carried a lighter in with him. And as our heroes journeyed inside the dark corridor, Steve’s mind began to wander off…

“Where have you been? It is already 1:20 and class is almost over!”
“I went fishing.”
“Fishing? Again? You do know that I’m going to have to increase the lashings, do you not?”
“Yes.”

Steve was lost in the past. He was experiencing a moment when he arrived at school late. The schools in Ne’er-do-well were ‘protected’ by metal fences that were erected in order to keep ‘potential threats’ out of the learning environment. Cameras were positioned at various locations such as around the main building and in hidden spots on the playground. Yes, they were even placed in bathrooms. At the top of the two-story building were two large antennae which were to be used in the event of an ‘extreme emergency’. Usually the only time they used it was for the children who misbehaved and were to be sent to the higher-ups. In addition to all of this, the school had strict standards to be adhered to at all times. The boys and girls were to line up in the morning and sing the allegiance to their country and their ‘god’. The pledge was to take place at 7:15 every morning. Steve felt the pledge to be unbearably mundane and felt it much easier to sit during the pledge. He was punished accordingly. At Clark Dale Elementary, students were expected and even forced to become a piece of the larger whole.
“I would say… about twenty.”
Steve grinned and responded
“How about fifteen? It will make your life much easier when I arrive on time. What say you?”
The boy had been rather silver-tongued for his age. The man smiled
“I am feeling generous today.”
His grin widened
“I will give you twenty-one.”
But to no avail. The boy frowned, aware of his rapidly impending doom. He figured he could avoid it with a few choice words of humility
“Yes sir.” Once again, to no avail.

The man grabbed the boy’s wrists and bound them in ropes attached to two wooden planks. The devices were very popular at Clark Dale, two per class, and were set about five feet off of the ground. In addition, small buckets were set underneath the devices. The man then retrieved a rather large whip from his desk drawer. It was so large that it was probably the only object in the entire drawer. As procedure dictates, the man pulled the boy’s trousers to his ankles and removed his underpants. The boy’s rear was on display to the entirety of the class. The man hoisted the instrument above his head slowly, gathering strength and then, swung forwards with utmost dexterity and speed! Whoop! Snap! With each and every hit a scream could be heard throughout the halls and a cackle which increased in pitch at each successive blow. The boy’s legs were soaked in blood after only 10 lashes. The man continued, swifter than ever with a force that would only be comparable to almighty Zeus’ terrorizing bolts of lightning. Afterwards, the man took a deep breath. A feeling of accomplishment and power rushed through his mind instantly. At the same time, his very soul elevated to heavenly (or hellish) heights, while the student’s legs shook with fear. As custom in Ne’er-do-wellian schools, the students were left to soak in the despair and regret of their actions and were usually left to starve and relieve themselves until the end of the school day. Of course, all of this was done in the company of the entire class. Even when the children had behaved, he still chose a ‘Lucky Contestant’ to witness his fury. Most of the class watched with cold indifference, their frozen stares penetrating the souls of those who were chosen to suffer. The stares were like hammers that drove stuck-up nails back to where they belong.

“Hey! You coming?”
“Oh… yes.” Steve continued onward at a hasted pace and in almost an instant, a beam of light had broken the darkness. They were almost there.

They reached a metal, barred door which featured pass-card verification devices. Even so, the place was almost completely unguarded. Once again, the security was lacking.
“Why is no one standing guard?”
“Just wait.”
Jerry inserted his card and opened the door. When Steve entered he saw a room, but not just any room. No, it was beautiful. It had long hand-woven rugs, imported. The ceilings held exquisite chandeliers, which reflected a thousand golden sparkles across the ceiling. The walls were covered in light neutral beige and the halls had expensive paintings and pottery. Steve had not seen art like this in a very long time, because art was rarely viewed in Ne’er-do-well.

When they passed a couple doors, they reached the only open door and noticed something marvelous. A whole group of people book-licking! He became so excited that he almost ran in and jumped for joy. He was halted by the fact that it would be rude to interrupt one who is book licking. Jerry had somehow disappeared while Steve was gawking at the intellectuals, so Steve began searching for him. About three doors down he saw more people that were doing things he had never seen before. Some were hitting balls with a long stick on some type of green table, while others sat in front of a television holding small, round devices with buttons. Everyone seemed to be having a grand time and even Jerry was enjoying a game of hit-the-ball-with-a-stick. Steve ran enthusiastically to Jerry
“What is that you are doing? It looks… fun.”
“Oh, yes. This is pool.”
“Pool? It does not look like you could swim in that.”
“It’s different than that. Here. Take a swing.” Jerry handed a stick to Steve.
“Hold it like so… and then.”
BAM! In a quick moment the ball went flying across the room, bounced off the walls and missed nearly two people.
“Oh. I can see why this room has fewer decorations than the other rooms.”
“Yeah… This is Gary. He’s also in communications. He works under me.”
“Hello.”
“Hello.”
 After the greeting, Gary leans over and whispers something in Jerry’s ear
“Oh, yes. I almost forgot. I will. Yes.” Jerry then turns his attention to Steve
“We are going to see the boss now. I’m sure that you will like him.”
Steve chuckles. “Will I?”

Jerry led Steve through another, shorter corridor until they reached a reinforced metal door with a slightly crooked note. The note read ‘BOSS’.
Jerry pointed at the door “This is it.”
“You don’t say?”
            Jerry then proceeded to knock on the metal door until a man came out of the room. The man was wearing a heather gray business suit and slacks, a hat, and… clown shoes? He had a fair complexion, rosy pink cheeks, and a large grin stretched across his face. He outstretched his hand to Steve, who grabbed the hand, feeling accepted and welcome
“Happy to have you aboard, Steve. You got quite the fine catch this time, Jerry.”
 “What is your name?”
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

On High School Education: How I Fit In

The entirety of the school system in America is confounding to me, at best. It is disgruntling to see countless young minds thrown in to a world where they are forced to learn using only one established method: Mass Education. When they are thrown in to this system from the age of five, they are taught that school is the one and only way to avoid the seemingly worst consequence in all of America: Failure. And, even though many of America's pioneers were not taught in mass educational facilities, America still continues to inhibit the freedom of it's youth, it's creatively minded children are forced in to a system where mistakes are not highlighted and chosen by you, but rather, they are chosen by one who 'knows much more than yourself'. This feeling of inferiority is then used as a method to suppress creative energy and furthermore, suppress any possible revolutionary actions. In doing so, it would seem as if the country is trying to stop possible growth by making the path less trodden become the path never traveled.

 Now, we come the question: Why is it that America would prevent the growth of it's own citizens? Do they do this knowingly? Or is this action purposeful? The answer to this question could vary from person to person, and while many may believe this is done for the better of the people, I must attempt to prove that this is simply not true. While i have no way of knowing whether this system is used for a purpose or used out of ignorance, I do know this: That this system does not work... It is through my own eyes and experience that i relay this message to you, and as such, it should be taken with a grain of salt per se, and additionally, tested through the eyes of the reader in his/her own experiences.

Now, as you may or may not know, I am currently 18 years of age, which was quite a recent occurrence. I was, as was the majority of American adolescents, in public school. For the sake of logic and truth i will present to you this story from the beginning to the end in its complete truth, and do not worry as i will not tarry with details in my writing.

When I was only 4 years of age, my mother had enrolled me in pre-school, and needless to say, i was not very excited. I remember vaguely the morning at my day-care when i was, rather suddenly, forced to hop on a bus to an unknown place... alone. At my age, this was preposterous, which of course led my young mind to decide that I was not boarding the bus nor was i going to school anytime soon.

At the age of five i was told i would be going to school where i could read, write, and learn a wide variety of exciting and fun things. I attempted to read dictionaries, typed spontaneously, and attempted to write my own name. Finally, when my mother walked with me to school, i believed that school wouldn't be as bad as i had previously thought. Upon my arrival, i saw children playing with their parents and it seemed like a glorious place. Then, it happened. Suddenly, parents began to distance themselves and say their goodbyes. Put simply, the children were upset. Throughout the room, countless tears where shed. Later that day, i made a friend and began to really enjoy the school system.

Let's jump ahead to my fourth grade year, which was the most hectic year of my schooling. After a recent move, i found myself friendless and alone. This destroyed school for me completely. At that age, i was  beginning to discover my true self and peer pressure was starting to become a more frequent occurrence. I was small, quiet, and my hobbies were odd, at best . It wasn't long after when i quit school, or at least tried. It was the most upsetting thing to hear when my mother and my teacher told me that the law required me to attend school. That was utter blasphemy, even at that age. To be forced to sit in a place where I cannot pay attention, where i cannot make friends, where i cannot come and go as i please was impossible. Not long after, they shortened my school days and things seemed to be rolling along fine. Soon, i met a friend, who shared the same perspective as me. He had missed school before, feeling it to be needless and we had a capacity for fun which led us to imagine grand projects and amazing possibilities which soon became realities. At such a young age, it seemed as if anything was possible. Not long before the school year was over, we planned another grand scheme, but this one was grander than all the others. This one had the window of realism in its reach. Michael had brought matches and I had dreamed up a wonderful possibility. It was a revolution and it was time to spread chaos. Now, while many of you have come to imagine chaos as an evil thing, due to terrorism and things of that sort, I ask that, for now, you refrain from letting such biases too far in to your mind. My young mind had planned to have a fun time breaking the rules; the very rules which placed confining shackles on me and forced me to experience something i was not prepared for. We had started the fire, by accident of course, and decided we would nonchalantly make our way from the field to the building. Our idea of chaos was hilarious, at least for me, and the feeling of ecstasy was flaring inside of me. I laughed more as panic ensued and teachers ran. Many of the students playing on the ground did not even notice the chaos, which was even more hilarious to me. Now, at this point in my life, i was overcome with hatred for the school system that i had used the wrong kind of chaos: terror. The principal was not happy in the least and would decide upon a fate which was suprisingly easy to endure : clean-up duty. After this event, i can say that I still dislike the school system but that i am now able to use that energy on a different conduit.

Now, i fast forward to middle school, which was a fun year for me. I had friends and i frequently arrived at school late as a direct result of those very friends. I was not ashamed, and I was not upset, i was happy and free. I had my old friend from the fourth grade and many new ones. The years were not overly exciting, but had their own meanings and lessons. Put simply, i learned the meaning of freedom and learned when it was important to stand up. I learned the meaning of conformity, how it did not work for me, and i learned what true friends really are. At the end of middle school, i had addiction problems, useful in escaping from school issues. This carried on in to high school, which i will finally touch upon.

In my high school days, i returned to the same mode of living i had adopted in fourth grade. I was not interested in any part of the school and hookey was a regular occurrence. The final solution: home schooling. Home schooling proved to be much more exhilarating than public school in that it offered freedom of study times and a better choice of curriculum. The only problem: lack of social stimuli. I was left with only one study partner and she had become very boring. And, through and through, I was still stunted when it came to personal growth. It seemed as if i could not find that balance. If i had a gone to public school, i had friends and people to converse with, but the ever growing issue of forced conformity, from students and teachers, and the lack of freedom and learning thereof had eliminated it as an option. If i had stayed with homeschooling, I would learn freely, but suffer the consequences of social inactivity. I was at a crossroads and eventually, I broke down.

After some time in a hospital, i realized the importance of the people around me, and eventually returned to school. It was much more exciting. I had a fairly large amount of friends and my own woman. It did not change until about 11th grade where i felt a restlessness which would not cease. It kept calling to me, telling me that school was holding me back. That it was a waste of time. Much later, i came to find that impulse to be true. I dropped out in 12th grade and all of those around me seemed to look at me with eyes that said "You. Fail." They were persistent for a short while, but then finally came to a halt. During that time, i learned an important thing: the cost of a revolution. Even though i was away from the teachers and had met their haunting gaze as i dropped out, there were still others who would not let me 'fail'. I took the G.E.D. and passed, with flying colors, surprising even myself with the results. Even math, my worst subject was still exemplary; and as of current, i am preparing for college.

For me, school was a challenging battle, and if it had been possible before i was 17, i would have dropped out much earlier. While I am an autodidact, not everyone is, and for them, i can say school is very useful. But for the creatively minded, the self-learners, and the otherwise talented, I suggest quiet rebellion and firm follow-through. If you, the reader, are one who finds school to be dull, and feels it is just a repetitive wheel, grab a book and read; you will be surprised with what you might find. You could be an autodidact.