Movie Stars by Miguel Gardel

They sent me to another school after the fourth grade. For fifth grade I was now in PS Zero on 176^th Street. I had liked PS One Plus at 173rd Street very much. There was a reason why I had been there and I understood. They were teaching me English. And I learned English. I was the first to be transferred to an all English-speaking classroom. Regular 4th Grade.

“Boys and girls, this is Hay-zoos. Hay-zoos…”

“Good morning, boys and girls.”

“Good morning, Hay-zoos!”

“Hay-zoos, you may take a seat over there…”

I don't remember much after that. But I do remember the teacher's name, Mrs. Barnett, and one day she threw a pair of scissors at a kid in the back because he was pissing her off. It could have been a girl but it's hard to imagine that she would do that to a girl. But I don't know and I don't remember. Mrs. Barnett was a good-looking woman, kind of skinny, kind of old. I think I wanted to have sex with her. She had a sexy face. She was always pissed. Yelling at the kids. She was a little hysterical. But that's because I only remember that scissors incident. She was daring. Which is probably why I wanted to have sex with her. And of course her good-looking face, a sexy face. She threw the scissors all the way to the back wall. We must have been doing some kind of arts and crafts. I don't remember.

I remember When Johnny Comes Marching Home again, hurrah! Hurrah! We'll give him a hearty welcome then, hurrah! Hurrah! I don't remember the rest of the words.

And I remember Raymond Hipp. He was the only person that said hello to me and spoke to me and said, "Puerto Ricans are good people."

And for the new school year they transferred me to PS Zero. And many of the kids from my block were also transferred there. We were all there in the yard the first day of school.

“This school sucks!”

“Yeah, this school is so old--”

“I ain't going in--”

“A long time ago this was a castle with ghosts…”

“Fucking spooky school--”

“Yeah, somebody got killed in there--”

“Yeah, that's why the Police Department had it closed down--”

“Fuck, I ain't going in there--”

“We ain't going in--”

“That's where they want to stick us Puerto Ricans in--”

“Y a nosotros los dominicanos--”

“S, pero that’s where you fucking people belong in that fucked up school--”

“Fuck you, Puerto Rican motherfucker--”

“Fuck you back you Dominican bastard--”

“Meet me this afternoon when we get out of school--”

“We are out of school, mamao. What are you going to do?”

“Boys, don't fight with your fists. Here, use this--”

“Look at him run--”

“My mother says that school is full of asbestos.”

“If you breathe in asbestos you'll die--”

“That's bullshit! I bet you I'll go in there and breathe all the asbestos they got and I won't die--”

“Burro!”

“That’s the bell!”

“We heard it, you doofus motherfucker--”

And there he came. From the opposite direction. He weaved through the crowd of children like an adult. He locked his eyes on me. He had a receding hairline, thin hair, going bald. He had determination in his eyes and in his walk. He made fists of his hands. I saw it all. And I even had time to ask myself, Is this guy going to do what I hope he will not do? But he did it. He punched me square in the stomach. Hard. The hardest a kid can punch another kid. Though I wasn’t completely sure he was a kid. I wasn’t sure what he was. Was he white, was he black? He was light brown like me and could have been a Dominican-Puerto Rican but he mumbled something before he swung hard so I knew he was “americano.” He growled and said something else in English after he hit me hard and I heard it as I fell to the ground in pain. I heard him mumble something again. And then he walked away like a boxer who had done what he had to do.

Carlito Morel yelled at him, “What did you do that for?” and he touched my shoulder.

Eddie Barrilla yelled, “Hey!” and he put his hand on my other shoulder.

“Go after him,” I managed to say. I was on my knees.

“You go after him,” Carlito said. “I think he’s a man.”

“The bell rang,” Eddie said.

“Yeah, let’s go,” somebody else said.

I got up and said, “You fucking cowards!” And I started to beat up on Carlito.

Our teacher was Mr. Glass. A white man with eyeglasses. He left after a week. And Miss Price took over. She was big and hefty and had dark skin. One of her front teeth was gold.

“No talking!” she screamed. “You! There! Sit in the back! You over there! Don’t you speak English?! Sit up here! And you! Are you blind?! Here! You can’t see where I’m pointing?! You sit over there. Who’s talking?! Are you talking?! You over there… I’m sending you to the principal… What’s your name?! Here take this note to room 10. Anybody else?! …Good morning boys and girls! My name is Miss Price…!”

“Where are you from Miss Price?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You talk funny.”

“Who said that?!”

“I’m Puerto Rican. What are you?”

“Shut up. I’ll slap you!”

“Are you from the South?”

“Boys and girls, in that closet there, you will find drawing paper. Line up now and each one of you go get a sheet and sit down and draw. Draw anything you want. I will be at my desk here watching you. Whoever talks will be sent to room 10. Is that clear? Draw!”

“Are you from Jamaica?”

“Who said that?!”

“I am Dominican and so is my sister. We are twins. Where are you from, Miss Price?”

“I’m from the West Indies. Now shut up and draw!”

Carlito sat next to me and he knew how to draw. He drew fire hydrants. And the fire hydrants cast shadows. That was amazing. And he drew buildings with windows and fire escapes. And he drew men in profiles with guns. I learned to draw watching him. But the people were always in profile.

“How do you make them face me?”

“I don’t know.”

The guy who had punched me the first day of school was in another fifth grade class. We saw him in the cafeteria one day.

“There’s the guy who hit you the other day,” Eddie Barrilla said.

Carlito went up to him and said, “Hey, you're the guy who punched my friend in the stomach the first day of school. What's your name, man?”

I came from the back and locked my arm over his neck. “I got you, you motherfucker.”

“Growl. I ain't from this city. Growl. I hate Cubans. Growl."

“Alright, man. You can go.”

“Why did you let him go?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t he look like a crazy guy?”

“Yeah, I think he’s like a midget.”

“I think he’s like a munchkin.”

“He’s bald.”

I kept my eyes on him for awhile. And then he disappeared after a few months of school. I wondered where he had gone. He was strange.

“Miss Price, Jesus is bothering me again. Miss Price, Miss Price, I'm holding my hand up. Over here. Yoohoo…”

I was in love with Margarita Gonzalez. So I used to pinch her.

“Miss Price, Miss Price, Jesus is bothering me again.” Her face was roundish and she always squinted. She’d put her glasses on and then take them off and then on and off and on and off and then she’d squint at the blackboard. I watched her do it and it drove me crazy. I’d pinch her on her arms and on her back and pull her hair and pull her hands and fingers and get close to her and whisper “I love you Margarita Gonzalez.”

“Miss Price, Miss Price…”

“Miss Price, when are we going to the gym?”

“The gym is closed. It has been condemned by the Board of Education. Do not ask me again.”

“Miss Price, Miss Price, when are we going to the music room?”

“I told you once and I told you twice, we will go to the music room when we get a teacher to teach you music. Don’t ask me again.”

In the sixth grade we had Miss Levy. She had a pointy mouth. She was very pale and blond. She left after about a month because she had gotten married. Lola La Linda cried when Miss Levy told us her new name was Mrs. Morgenstern and was leaving us and not coming back. “I am going away far from here. Far, far away from New York City. Goodbye children. Goodbye, bye, bye, bye…”

Mr. Kent replaced her. The first question Lola La Linda asked was “Teacher, can we call you Superman?” And there was a great echo. “Can we, can we, can we, can we…?”

“No, you may not!” Mr. Kent yelled out.

All the girls were in love with Mr. Kent because he was handsome and looked like Adam West. “He’s the prettiest man in the world,” Lola said.

“Mr. Kent, when are they going to fix the gym?”

“I have no idea.”

“We want to play basketball.”

“So. You’re not here to play anything. You’re here to learn. If you want to play go to the park. Don’t you know how to go to the park. Ask your parents to take you. If your parents don’t know what a park is for, that’s not my fault. Now, take out your math books…”

In the spring he took us to Van Courtland Park because there was a regional track meet and the boys had to participate. When we arrived we saw all the other boys wearing t-shirts with their school names on them and matching shorts and running shoes. We had regular school clothes and we lost the race.

Towards the end of the school year Mr. Kent asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. “Denny Fernandez, you go first.”

“I want to be a movie star.”

“You do. Now why on Earth would you want to be that. Why don’t you want to be a policeman or a lawyer or a priest or a garbage man or a fireman or a teacher like me?”

“I want to be a movie star because movie stars can be all of that. You know, like a movie star can be a cowboy and then he can be a singer and then he can be a detective and then he can be a robber and then--”

“Okay, okay, don’t test my patience. Lola, what do you want to be?”

“I want to be a movie star because a movie star can be a dancer and a singer and a rich lady and a--”

“Fine, fine, that’s enough. You, Julio Santana, what do you want to be?”

“I want to be a movie star because I want to…”

“Do all of you want to be movie stars?” Mr. Kent asked.

And we all said “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes…!”

For the following school year we were all sent to Junior High School 66 Plus 6 on 183^rd Street.

Bio: Miguel Gardel lives in New York and attended the City College and has worked at many things from janitorial to journalism and back again. This story was previously published in Red Fez.