The Outsider and the Rebellous Gir.

Ralston is one of the ten most desirable towns in which to live as rated by one of the national magazines for the fifth year in a row. My family and I moved to Ralston five years ago when my father was given a million dollar bonus by the Board of Directors of the Alsomex company where he is the CEO. I know his salary is more that a million a year so the bonus was like pocket change.

That kind of money isn’t unique in Ralston. There are few in Ralston who don’t make as much and you can tell that by driving through the community and checking out the houses. A $500,000 house would be considered a glorified shack by the denizens of this town and if there are any homes worth less than a mil I haven’t seen them Indeed the builders of new houses in Ralston try to outdo the standing structures as a matter of pride. The town zoning board requires that each home be situated on a least three acres. Behind the three or four door garages you might expect to see a Jaguar , a Mercedes or maybe a Lexus and one or two sports cars like BMW’s or MG’s for the teen kids. 

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The people all appear to be made from the same cookie cutter. If they don’t conform when they arrive, they soon fall into line.That means being white, Republican , Presbyterian or Anglican. Catholics and Jews are not particularly welcome they belong to the Country Club, drink the same brand of liquor and vote the same way. The men commute to work by car or train, are gone from home ten or twelve hours a day and marry the same kind of women. If the wife they have doesn’t fit the mold they trade her in for a younger svelte version to model their prosperity. The women are not there to cook or clean house. Labor is performed by citizens from Doggerville City, a blue collar community on the outskirts of Ralston, that is mostly made up of black and Hispanics with some professionals in the neat suburban areas . Often mothers and their daughters will he hired as regulars to clean a house or two each week. It’s not unknown for the parents of a son to slip a couple hundred dollar bills to a maid, who has an attractive daughter, to have the daughter stay the night as a present for the boy’s 13th birthday. Depending on how the evening went, the daughter would also be given several hundred dollars when she left. With that kind of payment the boy’s mother had no trouble lining up a black or Hispanic teen girl for her son’s first sexual experience. Sometimes the mother would hide a video camera in the boy’s room so she can vicariously experience her son’s first lay later on

Though the town of Ralston provides employment for the citizens of Doggerville they resent the treatment they sometimes receive. For example, a car full of high school boys from Ralston will periodically drive to Doggerville and cruise the streets at night until they spot a black or Hispanic girl walking home from work or whatever and force her into the car. They would drive to the park, strip her and take turns with her until they grow tired of their sport. The girl is warned what will happen if she resists. When they are through with the girl they would her drive back to Doggerville and shove her out of the car with a warning not to tell anybody. No need to warn It would be useless for the girl to report the abuse. At best they would file a report with the police but nothing further would happen. When it came to the rich and powerful the rule is ‘No harm, no foul.’ 

The men from Doggerville take care of the mansions’ grounds in Ralston, walk the dogs, clean the cars and do any manual work as needed. Whites live in a much more exclusive section of Doggerville. They are the store owners and clerks of the stores located in Ralston. Most professional people livein the white section too- teachers, doctors, law enforcement officers and the like who compute to Ralston to service the people there. Buses transport them to Ralston and on weekends the buses run well into the night to accommodate workers at the many parties and other social events that often terminate well into the wee hours of the morning.

The offspring of Ralston’s parents can best be described as pampered brats. From an early age they learn they are the privileged, the special, the ones who are entitled. If a teacher reprimands a student outside the classroom for misconduct that teacher may find herself on the disposable list. The high salary paid to teachers makes it easy to find an immediate replacement.. Thus, for instance, if a boy is seen fondling a girl in the hall, the teacher is expected to direct the students to their classroom without comment about their conduct. If the girl resisted the fondling and reports the incident to her mother, the mother will generally brush it off as a rite of passage, something every girl experiences in her school years. Inside the classroom, however, students are expected to be orderly, polite to the teacher, and attentive. Learning is a high priority among the parents who expect their progeny to be well prepared for the admission requirements of the prestigious colleges they will apply to after graduation.

Middle school children take sex education, not in the classroom but in their homes or the homes of their friends. These teens generally spend a lot of time alone in their bedrooms during the winter, where they may have a private adjoining room with desk and computer , a stereo system and a small refrigerator where they keep cold drinks. Generally a TV is in the bedroom so they can watch it while lying in bed. Girls often invite their male and female friends over to help alleviate their loneliness and boredom Parents may be home during these get together but generally let the party group alone. They think it’s good for children to get to know what each other’s bodies are like, to learn that boys have erections, what causes them to have an erection and what happens when the erection is stimulated and boys learn what the female body is like and how to stimulate females.
When one or two boys come along with one or two girls to the get together, a routine is usually followed. The hostess will often have taken a bottle of vodka from her father’s cabinet and serve vodka and tonic drinks to her guests. With the music beating a sensuous piece and after three or four drinks, the couples may all lie down on the king sized bed, talk,tell dirty jokes, wrestle, and begin kissing. The girls come prepared. They wear no bra and it is expected that boys will massage their breasts After some heavy petting including the girl rubbing the boy’s penis while it is under his clothes the girl may decide he needs some relief. The girl with him typically smiles , gratified that he desperately wants her. The routine is that she will unzip his pants and take out his swollen penis. She will play with it for awhile while the others watch and cheer her on until finally he ejaculates. She will grab one of the hand towels conveniently placed nearby to avoid a mess The other couples may do the same. Occasionally one of the girls will say ,”Let’s have a contest.” Then each one will take out her partners penis and when the hostess say,” Go,” the girls will begin to jerk off their partner. The couple that ejaculates first is the winner. If someone should question one of the girls about her conduct she would likely answer,” It’s no big deal . We’re just having some fun and it beats playing scrabble.”

Much of the same conduct is carried on in the high school except both boys and girls are much bolder. Many girls wear short denim skirts with skimpy panties underneath. A handsome male teacher is likely to see several girls in each of his classes slouching in their seats with their legs spread enough so that the teacher will have a good view of their panties. Usually at least one will wait after class to talk to the teacher and flirt at bit without being too obvious. If the teacher complains to the principal about the panty exhibition he is reminded that the school has no dress code and to just live with it. The school halls are the playgrounds of the privileged. Girls know they are likely to be groped by boys if they are caught alone in the halls. 

Because of their fathers’ positions in the community boys feel entitled to do what they want with females. For example, a young attractive female was hired right out of graduate school to teach art in the Ralston High School. One day two boys went to her classroom after school and made suggestive remarks to her. When she tried to leave they blocked her way and forcefully took off her sweater and bra. She struggled and cried and they just laughed as they played with her boobs. Then they pushed her down on a desk and pulled off her panties. Just then the Vice-Principal walked in, saw what was going on and told the two boys to leave. The teacher was then reprimanded and later fired for not being able to control her students. 

Such is the school I attended. I’ll never forget that April day in my senior year that Cliff McCann was enrolled in our school. I say was enrolled because it wasn’t his idea to enroll. Apparently Cliff had been showing up every day at the library and spending most of the day there, reading all kinds of books. After a week or two the librarian became curious and asked him why he wasn't in school. He didn’t have a credible answer so she checked with the school administration which in turn had the truant officer pick him up. 

The first class he attended was my English class. He stood in front of the class while he was introduced as is true of all new students . He had long dirty hair, uncombed and hanging down below his shoulders and facial hair that was trying to be a beard without much success. He wore an old pair of blue jeans that looked like they had never been washed and a red checked flannel shirt with holes in the elbows. Grubby was perhaps the best word to describe his overall appearance. Students sitting close to him reported later that he smelled and his fingernails were crusted with dirt.

Mrs. Powers couldn’t hide her disdain for this trampy looking alien as she directed him to sit down. Girls giggled as he walked down the aisle and boys made remarks like, ‘Ho, cave man.” One of them stuck out his leg and tried to trip him. Cliff evaded a fall by reaching out to grab a desk .“Thought you might like to take a trip, animal, “ the boy said with a smirk. Cliff looked at him without reaction as he continued to make his way to the back of the classroom. Mrs.Powers watched and heard the remarks without comment. 

Cliff reported every day to class but never said a word. No one talked to him and Mrs. Powers simply ignored him. A couple weeks later the class was discussing the poets of the Romantic period Near the end of the period, Mrs. Powers said, “Now let’s review. Who wrote ‘ Ode to a Grecian Urn?” No hands went up. “Anybody/ she questi0ned.”A girl called out, “Shelly?”

“No, Virginia, it wasn’t Shelly,” Mrs.Powers said. Then she looked to the back of the room where Cliff was slouched down in his chair with his head on the desk. “Maybe Mr. McCann can help us out if we can wake him up” she mockingly said with a sly grin, “How about it Cliff. Who wrote ‘Ode to a Grecian Urn?”

Cliff sat there, silent. “Well, Cliff. Aren’t you going to help us out,” she said in the same condescending tone. “Maybe Cliff never heard of the Romantic poets,” she said to the class.

“Keats,” he bluttered out, a touch of anger in his tone. “John Keats.”

Surprised, he class turned to look at him . Mrs. Powers looked stunned. “That’s right, “ she said. “What a lucky guess.” Just then the bell rang and we moved on to the school cafeteria. I went to lunch with my dearest friends, Polly and Agnes, and Rosy May. As I carried my lunch tray to our table, I saw Cliff sitting in a corner in the back of the cafeteria, by himself, with no lunch, absorbed in a book he apparently had taken from his rear pocket. My girl friends immediately got on his case, indignant that the school administration would allow such a disreputable animal in our pristine school, with our pristine student body. I remained silent as they carried on about his presence. 
When I next saw Cliff, he had been cleaned up. Apparently the gym teacher had been instructed to take him to the showers and have him shower. He was now wearing clothes that were several sizes too big for him and faded from having been washed so frequently. But at least they were clean. Cliff had rolled up the bottoms of the pants and the sleeves of the shirt and a belt had helped pull the pants tight around his trim waist. His hair no longer looked dirty but was shaggy as ever, and there was sadness in his eyes and a beauty to his face that were endearing, at least I thought so. The next day he had on his old clothes but now they were clean – washed and dried by the home economics teacher in the school washer.

Cliff was in two of my classes, English and history. In class he would just sit, slouched in his chair, silent, but occasionally I observed him after class talking to Mr. Henry, our history teacher. Mr. Henry had always treated him with respect and when students made mocking comments directed at Cliff, Mr. Henry would not tolerate it and warned them to keep their remarks to themselves. From overhearing bits of their discussion, I concluded that Cliff had a real interest in history and wanted to discuss further some points Mr. Roberts had made during his class lecture. I began to suspect Cliff wasn’t the clod the students assumed he was.

One day after school I was looking for my girlfriends to board the school bus when I saw a group of students circled around some one and shouting “Get the hairy bastard “ and “Beat the shit out of the Neanderthal,”

I pushed my way through the crowd and saw Cliff in the middle of a ring of boys with girls on the outer edge. The ringleader seemed to be Kevin Short, a tall muscular junior, who repeatedly shoved Cliff until he fell down. When Cliff got up he was pushed down, again and again. I was incensed. I pushed my way to the center of the circle and shouted, “Let him alone you brute, you big bully.” Kevin dropped his hands to his sides. The crowd grew silent, waiting Kevin’s response. He turned toward me and said, “Oh, what have we here. A little lady coming to the rescue. Will bug off, Kathy. I like playing with your tits but I don’t like your big mouth.” The crowd let out a collected “Oh”

Then I heard a voice from the crowd that I recognized. “What are you doing, Kathy? Why are you defending that scum bag?” I looked toward the voice and saw my girlfriends who had been cheering Kevin on.”

I was furious, not only about what he said about me but what he was doing to another human being – someone I didn’t even know. As I moved closer, Kevin reached out, put his hand over my face and pushed me hard. I fell to the ground. Suddenly Cliff charged toward Kevin, hitting him first with one fist and then another. Kevin went down, muttered an obscenity ‘ and sprang to his feet. As he rushed toward Cliff, Cliff hit him again and again, fending off punches launched by Kevin, ducking and weaving and lashing out first with a left and then a right. Kevin was bleeding now and with one powerful upper cut, Cliff put him down again. Kevin was stunned. He shook his head and struggled to his feet. He found his buddies in the crowd. “Get him,” he said. Three or four boys grabbed Cliff’s arms and held them as Kevin steadied himself. His face-hardened into a hateful scrawl and he lashed out at the defenseless Cliff, battering his face again and again. Cliff fell. Then Kevin lifted his foot and kicked Cliff in the crotch. Cliff groaned in agony and rolled into a ball, holding his crotch “Ok, let’s go. Maybe he learned not to mess with me,” Kevin said. The raucous crowd broke up and walked away, laughing and joking. Cliff lay alone on the ground, groaning and holding his hands between his legs.

I walked over, knelt down and turned his face toward me. Both eyes were swollen; his nose and lips were bleeding. He opened his eyes, tried to focus and said, “Hi.” Then through thickened lips he whispered, ”Are you my guardian angel?”

“Well if I am I’m not doing a very good job. Can you get up?”

“I’ll try,’ he mumbled.

“Here, I’ll help you. “ I put my arms around him and lifted. After a struggle he got to his feet. We slowly made our way to the school steps where I told him to sit. I glanced toward the buses and saw my three dearest friends watching. 

‘You’re pretty well battered, “I said 

“”Yeah, guess someone around here doesn’t like me .”

“Who can I call to come and get you?”

“Ah! Nobody. You can go home now. I’ll be all right in a bit.”

‘I can’t leave you like this. I’m going in to get the school nurse.”

The nurse came out and helped him inside. That was the last I saw of Cliff for several days. In the meantime I took lots of heat from my girl friends who couldn’t understand why I would defend a someone like Cliff, trailer park trash for sure.

Cliff and I didn’t speak to each other again for weeks. Actually he didn’t speak to anyone. He was completely ignored except when one or the other made a disparaging remark about his appearance. When he and I passed each other he would smile and nod and I would smile back but that was all. That was the only time I saw him smile. Most of the time he was grim and his face showed anger or helplessness. He was an outcast and he felt it.

As the end of the school year drew near, Mrs. Powers assigned the class one last project- a major paper that would count for a third of our grade. We had a choice of three different topics. I choose one in which I had to analyze the psychological and societal influences on Lady McBeth that motivated her to act as she did. I finished my paper days before the due date and turned it in. On the day before the deadline I was in the computer room completing another assignment when I saw Cliff examining a computer as if he had never seen one before. I walked over to him and asked what he was doing. “I have to type my paper for English, “ he said. “I don’t know how to turn the computer on.”

“You don’t know how to turn the computer on and you’re going to type your English paper?”

“Well yes,” he said. “Can you help me?

“Do you know how to use Microsoft Word?” I asked.

“I don’t even know what it is. But I’m sure I can teach myself. You just type, don’t you?

“Cliff, there is no way you can learn in time to type your paper. Give it to me. I have a computer at home. I’ll type it for you”

“I can’t let you do that? Why would you ? I can’t pay you. I have no money. “

“Give it to me, “I said. “Who said anything about money?”

The next morning just before class I handed him the typed paper. “That’s a great piece of work,” I said. “I’m really impressed. How come you know so much about T.S. Eliot?”

“He’s a favorite of mine. “The Love Song of J.Arther Prufrock is such a great statement about life.’

‘I’ve read it, but never really understood it. After reading your paper I know a lot more about what Eliot was saying. “ In the paper Eliot mocks the trivialities of life, man’s fears and lost opportunities. Cliff explained the meaning of the symbols utilized by the author and alludes to the poetic beauty of the opening lines of the poem and the figures of speech he uses. I thought it read like an article from a scholarly journal.

A week later the papers had been corrected. Mrs. Powers called each student to the front of the room and commented as the student was handed the assignment paper. When my turn came, she said I had done a fine job and gave me a grade of A. Cliff’s name was the last to be called. Every one grew silent, waiting in anticipation as he slowly made his way to the front of the room, unkempt as ever. Mrs. Powers looked at him sternly and said, “Your mark is F. I don’t except plagiarized work to be handed in as if I were stupid or something. Did you get this off the computer? Find it there and pass it off as your own?”

I sat in my seat aghast. Cliff looked at her with hate in his eyes. He seemed about to say something but then took the paper from her, ripped it in two, threw it on the floor. As he walked out of the classroom, he turned to her and said,” Asshole.” 

I was enraged. I jumped to my feet. ”Mrs. Powers,” I shouted. “He wrote that paper himself. I know he did. I…I typed it for him. I have his handwritten copy at home. I can prove it.”