Humph, Emily thought! He’s looking at her again.
Of course she wasn’t! Who could with Karen Switzer sitting there, in Emily’s new dress, looking beautiful, with her long hair and all those curves? A girl should not have curves like that. Maybe she was held back a grade at her old school because she was slow. That thought made Emily feel better. And maybe when she finds she can’t handle it here, she will move back to where she came from. That possibility made Emily even happier.
Emily was
sitting in the back of the class, to lessen the chance of being called on. In English, she always sat in the front. Thelma was next to her; with the magazine
tucked safely back into her notebook. When
asked, Thelma did not think plaid was an indication of schizophrenia. It could just be a question of taste, like
clip-on ties. But she agreed it would be
wise to avoid anyone who wore it, or any trips to
The classroom
was a bungalow located at one end of the school, across campus from the ball
field where they would play the Cornville team an hour after class was over, math
being the last class of the day. The
bungalow was set on blocks as a temporary foundation. This raised it high enough off the ground that
students had to walk up ramps onto the two porches to get to the doors on
either side of the front of the building.
Several of these bungalows were in use at the school, because with all
the new families in Binnington, the student population had outgrown the
original capacity of the school.
Despite its
distance from other classrooms, Mr. Bishop’s class was crowded with two grade
levels in it. As a college preparatory course,
everyone who wanted to go on to college had to pass it, even the girls. Why?
Emily did not know. Women didn’t
need math, she was sure! Thelma went
further, insisting, ”A man should keep the checkbook…Honey… and a woman should
keep the checks.”
Mr. Bishop,
who was a bachelor, was a thin man who looked as though he never got enough to
eat, and he had a large Adam’s apple that made it appear as if what little food
he did eat got stuck in his throat. He
wore tweed jackets with patches on the elbows, and large bow ties. He had thick horn-rimmed glasses, which
magnified his eyes giving him an owlish appearance. When he stared straight at you, those eyes
never blinked.
Mr. Bishop
was a favorite of the math and science students. He graded hard, but fairly, and they all came
prepared. He also sponsored the Chess
and the Astronomy Clubs. And he could
work a slide rule with a speed and accuracy that made him a legend in
mid-western
Home
economics students also got good grades from Mr. Bishop. Of course, a truly dedicated math teacher,
like Mr. Bishop, couldn’t be bribed.
Still, right around midterms and finals, the home economics students
often found themselves with plates left over class work, which they left on his
desk, begging him to take them off their hands, so they didn’t have to throw
good food away. The school janitor got
to where he knew when Mr. Bishop’s tests were coming up, by the empty plates
and pie tins in his wastebasket, and the extra flies circling about. It also helped that Mr. Bishop, after years eating
his own cooking, had learned to stomach almost anything. So even the worst home economics students
managed to get good grades in his class.
While most students
of Mr. Bishop got along with him great, a select group did not. He was the nemesis of the athlete. Jocks use to torment Mr. Bishop when he was
in high school. They would put his
bicycle on the roof, make fun of his bow tie, and slip glue in his pocket protector
before asking to borrow a pencil. But
the worst thing they ever did was add an extra mark to his slide rule.
Slide rules
are hand held calculators made out of two pieces of bamboo. They have logarithmic markings on their
sides. The center piece moves or slides
to different marks on the outer body.
They function by adding and subtracting logarithmic relationships
between the slide and the body. They can
multiply, divide, take roots and powers, calculate logs, and a wide variety of
trigonometry functions. All the rocket scientists heading for the moon used
them. Mr. Bishop was a slide rule
prodigy while still in high school.
One day he
tried to impress a pleasant girl of Finnish decent who was a good cook, but a
little sensitive about her weight. He
started off by calculating the distance from the
It was
while he lay prone on the ground, with his nose bloodied, and his shirt and bow
tie pulled up around his ears, that he noticed the extra mark. And he had been the sworn enemy of jocks ever
since. And now that he was the teacher,
he had the upper hand. They had to pass
his class, or they couldn’t play
sports. Unfortunately most of them were
neither math, nor home economics majors.
Earlier in
the year, one disgruntled basketball player caught a skunk in a bag and let it
loose under the bungalow just before a test, in hopes that it would be
cancelled. They had to close the
bungalow for several weeks during which time math classes took place in the
cafeteria. The culprit, however, was
easily discovered. Being exceptionally
tall, his length prevented him from withdrawing fast enough from under the
bungalow to avoid the skunk’s display of displeasure.
Mr. Bishop
was not bothered by the smell; his bachelor years had deadened his senses. But the skunk, on it way to freedom,
scampered into the classroom and made off with a fresh rhubarb pie, left by a
home economics student with a poor aptitude for math. Rhubarb pie was a particular favorite of Mr.
Bishop. He was devastated and tried to
expel the player permanently.
Fortunately,
the skunk had not liked the pie and returned it the next day with only a small
bite taken out. So the player was
allowed to return to class, when his presence was less bothersome to his fellow
students.
Coincidently
or not, that same evening as the pie theft, the school nurse’s office was
broken into. The only thing taken was a
bottle of mouthwash. And the only
evidence of entry was some small animal tracks and what appeared to be pieces
of rhubarb spat out on the floor. Emily,
who hated rhubarb, knew just how the skunk felt!
Howie was one
of those rare combinations of scholar and athlete. He qualified as a jock, but his good grades
and loved science; caused Mr. Bishop overlooked his athletic tendencies. Unfortunately, Emily was not enrolled in home
economic, and was only a jock as far as Mr. Bishop was concerned.
Of course she wasn’t!
Why was
Karen sitting next to Howie, she wondered?
Only the smart kids sat up front; members of the chess and astronomy
clubs sat up front.
Wait! Had Karen had moved her chair closer to
Howie? Or maybe, Emily thought with
dismay, Howie had moved his chair closer to Karen. How dare he?
Her fingers were itching for a baseball.
Now she
thought about it. It looked as if all
the boys in class had moved their chairs closer to Karen. If the bungalow was a boat, it would have
tipped over! The only thing keeping the
room balanced was a gigantic slide rule that hung from the ceiling on the back
of the room. It must be acting as
ballast.
This was
definitely a math class. Einstein’s
equation, E=MC2, was printed in black marker on a large piece of paper and
taped to the front of the room above the chalkboard. On the back wall, behind the slide rule, was
another piece of paper with a quote from the French mathematician and
philosopher, Descartes. It read, “I think,
therefore I am.” He is what, Emily
wondered? Beneath that paper were
pictures of famous mathematicians from Albert Einstein clear back to Sir Isaac
Newton. Emily assumed it was Sir Newton
because he was shown wearing his Sunday best clothes, and sleeping under a tree
with an apple about to drop on his head.
If he was such a genius, she wondered why he couldn’t figure out not to
wear his Sunday best clothes when he went on a picnic
Speaking of
clothes, why was Karen dressed that way to come to school? And why couldn’t a dress look that on
Emily? Emily looked at the boys in room. Even the jocks were looking! Usually they were asleep. Hadn’t any of them seen legs before, or wavy,
dark hair? Emily tossed her ponytail in
disgust.
She was
wearing jeans. The school’s dress code stated
that girls must wear dresses or skirts to school, while boys must wear
slacks. But on a game day, players were
allowed jeans. When the rule was
decreed, no one realized that a girl could qualify to use it. But a rule was a rule, and Emily was allowed
to wear jeans along with the rest of the team.
Seated in the same room with Karen Switzer, with her blue dress, Emily
looked down at her jeans and white shirt and wished she had not taken advantage
it.
“Who knows the answer to this question? Emily Hinton, how about you?” Mr. Bishop
asked her.
Emily looked up startled, as Mr. Bishop appeared suddenly, owl-like, before her. At first, all she saw was his enormous bow tie. Oh no! It was plaid! And a clip-on! The neck of his shirt was several sizes too big. But this allowed his Adam’s apple to move up and down safely. As Emily looked, she could see it moving at a furious speed.
Emily looked farther up and saw his eyes, magnifying by the glasses, staring unblinkingly at her. “Who? Who?” she gasped, as the class snickered. She saw he was holding a large wooden pointer in one hand, and beating it against the palm of his other hand. Had class started already?
“Welcome back to math, Miss Hinton.” He raised the stick into the air and pointed it towards the front of the room. “I said a farmer was herding his cattle through a narrow gate that allows only two cows at a time to pass through it. It takes 10 seconds for a cow to pass through the gate. If the farmer herds for 5 minutes and 20 seconds, how many cows have passed through the gate.”
That was
just like Mr. Bishop, asking inane questions at a time like this. Emily was sure if Mr. Bishop had been on the
Titanic, he would have asked math questions all the way down. Why didn’t he spend his time doing something constructive,
like moving Howie away from that girl in the front row?
“Well, Miss
Hinton?”
What? He wanted an answer right now? Desperately, Emily put one hand on her lap
and started counting on her fingers. She
didn’t have enough! She would have to
use her other hand. She hoped that would
be enough. She did not have time to take
her shoes off. “Columbus” came to mind. No! That
was the answer to two other questions: “What fifteenth century explorer
discovered
Where was Zen when a person needed it? She remembered her father telling her about the philosophy that taught one can know something was right in her heart, without thinking about it. She could use a little of Zen right then.
She took a
deep breath and closed her eyes trying to visualize the cows going through the
gate. Did any of the cows stop to gossip?
FOCUS! There in front was old
Bessie, with a cowbell under her chin, clanging for all the other cows to
follow. And look! There was a little calf tagging along behind
her.
“Do you
have an answer, Miss Hinton?”
Frantically
the cows began moving faster. As they
approach the speed of light, time came to a stand still. Zen, don’t fail me now, Emily urged. She was rapidly using both hands.
Suddenly
she opened her eyes and blurted out “64,”
There was
silence in the classroom. All heads were
turned to watch the confrontation between Emily and Mr. Bishop. Howie -
the cad - was smiling.
There was
some pencil scratching. And a collected
sigh of relief, as Mr. Bishop admitted.
“That is the correct answer, Miss Hinton.”
Safe! Emily relaxed.
“And how did the farmer know that?”
No
fair! Why does everyone ask two-part
questions?
She decided
to reason with him. “Mr. Bishop,
shouldn’t some other student get a chance to answer that. I do not want to hog all of the credit in
this classroom.”
Mr. Bishops
Adam’s apple continued to bob up and down.
And he continued to train his unblinking stare on her. “Do not worry about that, Miss Hinton, you
are far from getting all of the credit in this classroom.”
. “I repeat. A farmer was herding his cattle through a narrow gate that only allows two cows at a time to pass through it. It takes 10 seconds for a single cow to pass through the gate. If the farmer herds for 5 minutes and 20 seconds, how many cows have passed through the gate. You have answered ‘64’. That is correct. Now tell the class how you came up with that answer.”
Thoughts and uncertainties came at her, again at the speed of light. “Oh Mr. Bishop. You don’t want to know.”
“If you want to play ball this afternoon, I insist that you tell us.”
She looked
at Mr. Bishop. He was serious. She shrugged her shoulders. Well he asked for it. She answered, “I counted the legs and divided
by 4.”
This time
there was a stunned silence in the classroom.
“Perhaps,
Miss Hinton,” those owl-like eyes stared right through her. “You can stay and visit with me after class, until
I grade your test.”
Emily
seethed for the rest of class. She was
sure she heard Howie’s voice above the rest of the laughter in the classroom
explaining “Zen” to “that girl””.
When at
last it came time to take the test, Emily found herself staring at her blank
sheet of paper and gnawing on the end of her pencil. Whenever she looked up she could see Howie
and Karen, both scribbling at a frantic pace, glancing up occasionally see how
the other was doing.
It was a competition
to see who would finish first. And Karen
won!
“Of course,” thought Emily, “if she is going to make up answers, she would finish first.”
She turned
back to her test. Oh oh! It looked like Mr. Bishop was having trouble
with train schedules again. She read: A
train leaves town "A" headed south traveling at 50 miles per
hour. At the same time, another train
leaves town “B” headed north traveling at 100 miles per hour. If they meet in one hour, how far will the
two trains have traveled together?
Where does
Mr. Bishop come up with these problems?
She wondered if it was a trick question?
The two trains are only traveling “together” at the moment of impact,
when they crashed into each other.
Before that, they are traveling “apart”.
And after the crash, what did it matter?
Was this anyway to run a railroad?
Before they started, they were 150 miles apart. And that is where they should have
stayed. Whose mistake was it to send two
trains along the same track straight at each other at a combined 150 miles per
hour?
Mr. Bishop
was surprised when Karen turned in her paper, ahead of Howie, then went back
and sat at her desk, with her hands held gracefully on her lap and her legs
crossed neatly at her ankles.
Was Howie
looking at those ankles? Surely Howie
can appreciate brains over beauty, Emily thought. Karen cannot have known all the answers. Nobody beats Howie.
Mr. Bishop
marked just one answer wrong. Then he
looked up from his comparison of Karen Switzer’s paper with his answer
guide. “This is very good, Miss
Switzer! It is a pleasure to have
someone with your intelligence in our class.
I am sure you will give Mr. Throckmorton stiff competition.”
Emily was
disappointed. Karen had brains as well
as beauty. And she was nice! What was the world coming to?
Howie chewed
on his lower lip, but he did not have time to look up. He just kept writing fast and furiously. He stopped and thought for a moment. Then he erased one mark and wrote down a new
one, before continuing on. Howie nearly
got all “A”s. He was the top student in
almost every class. Now he was worried
that he was about to be displaced.
At last he put his pencil down and rushed his paper up to Mr. Bishop.
He turned
and glanced at Karen. Then he looked
back at Emily.
Quickly
Emily put her head down and ignored him.
She decided she was mad at him!
She
returned to her reading: A truckload of turkeys was going to market for
Thanksgiving. The truck weighs 2 tons
and the turkeys weigh 3 tons bringing the combined weight of the truck and the
turkeys to 5 tons. The truck comes to a
bridge that has a 4-ton weight limit.
What is the least number of trips across the bridge the driver has to
make to get all the turkeys across the bridge safely?
That’s
easy, thought Emily, just one. All the
driver has to do is get out and bang on the side of the truck until all the
turkeys were flying in the air. Then he
needs to hurry across the bridge before they settle back down. While the turkeys are in the air, the weight
crossing the bridge is only the 2-ton weight of the truck.
Mr. Bishop
finished grading Howie’s paper. He also
got one answer wrong. Mr. Bishop
compared the two papers. “Interesting,”
he said. “Yes,” he continued, “it’s
going to be a pleasure having two such fine students in my class. I hope you continue to encourage each other.”
Howie does
not need any more encouragement, Emily thought.
I am sure he is looking at her ankles.
The rest of
the problems were just as bad as the first two.
Next she read: Divide 25 lambs between 3 people. No way!
She couldn’t do that without cutting the last poor lamb into
pieces. And she wasn’t about to do it! In fact she decided, then and there, she was
going to stop eating lamp chops.
She
continued: The combined weight of 2 bushels of oranges and 1 bushel of apples
is 200 pounds. If the weight of an apple
is 2/3 the weight of an orange, then how much does 1 bushel of oranges
weigh. Why don’t they make fruit punch
and be done with it?
Next she
read: 2 ants start out from the same point on top of a box, of cookies, going
in opposite directions. If the size of
the box is 11 inches by 9 inches and they meet again in 45 seconds, how fast is
their combined speed in miles per hour?
How would she know? She could
imagine, however, at the end of the race, one ant, panting and gasping for
breath, asking the other ant why they had been running so fast. “Didn’t you read the box?” The other ant replies. "It said tear across the dotted line’”.
Emily
glanced up. The clock on the wall showed
there were only a few minutes of class time left. Desperately, Emily started marking
numbers, clearing her mind to let them come to her out of thin air. “Zen, you helped me once today. Don’t fail me now,” she muttered to herself.
She had a
brief moment of doubt when one answer looked wrong. Then a fly flew off the page, and she
realized that wasn’t a decimal point.
Emily put her paper on the top of the
pile of tests just as the bell rang.
Then she returned to her seat to wait.
She knew she wouldn’t be leaving until Mr. Bishop graded her test. And if she did not pass it, she would not be
playing that afternoon. Fortunately she
had placed it on top.
She remained while the other students
left the class. She glanced up as some
of her fellow athletes wished her luck and reminded her to hurry; the game
would due to start in only an hour. But
she didn’t look when she heard Karen ask Howie how to get to the baseball
field. And she pretended not to hear
when Howie offered to show her the way. With
her head down, she could not see Howie looking back at her, before he left the
room with Karen.
“Humph!” Emily sniffed, after they were gone. She did not care who Howie walked to the baseball field with.
She waited
for Mr. Bishop to grade her test. It was
right on top. She hoped he would hurry
and get it over with. Heartbroken or
not, if she passed, she had a baseball game to play. And to play, all she needed was a passing
grade.
But the
game against their dreaded rivals from Cornville would have to wait awhile for
Emily Hinton. Mr. Bishop did not hurry
to grade her paper. Instead he picked up
the pile and resorted it – from top to bottom.
“I am grading the tests in the order they were turned in,” he said. “I believed that will be fair.”
Emily
looked around the classroom to see who else cared. No one else was there, but there was nothing
she could do about it. He would get to
hers last! The nerve of him! She hoped his Adam’s apple got caught on his
clip-on bow tie!
Minutes
ticked off the clock, as Emily squirmed in her seat.
Mr. Bishop
selected another paper and compared it to his answer guide.
It was only
forty-five minutes until the game was due to start, and if she could play,
Emily still had to change into her uniform.
Who would they put at shortstop, if she didn’t make it there on time?
Mr. Bishop
selected another test paper. Emily never
realized how slow Mr. Bishop was. ‘Who,
Who, did he think he was?’ His Adam’s
apple bobbed up and down as he stared owl-like at the test in front him
Emily
coughed discretely to hurry him along, but the teacher ignored her, selecting
the next paper from off of the top of the pile.
It was only forty minutes before the game was due to start.
The pile of
tests did not look to be getting any smaller, and Emily was getting anxious. Mr. Bishop’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down,
as he selected another test paper.
Emily could
hear the cheers and the roar of the crowd at the baseball field from clear
across campus. “Mr. Bishop,” she started
to ask him if he would get to hers soon.
“Shush!” he
told her, with his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He selected another test paper from the top.
A student,
the team’s equipment manager, appeared in the doorway. “Emily,” he whispered, “Coach Buggese wants
to know if you are going to be able to play.
The game will start soon and he has to turn in the lineup card.”
Emily just
shrugged her shoulders.
“Shush!”
Mr. Bishop said, staring at him owl-like, with his Adam’s apple bobbing up and
down, as he selected another paper.
One of the
cheerleaders showed up and stood behind the equipment manager. It was Thelma Takahasi. “Shush,” the equipment manager repeated, as
she looked over his shoulder into the room at Mr. Bishop selecting one more
test.
“I think
Emily’s paper is at the bottom,” the equipment manager whispered.
“I surely
hope she passes,” Thelma replied, in her soft drawl.
Minutes
continued ticking off the clock, as Emily squirmed in her seat.
Mr. Bishop
selected another paper - staring at it owl-like - as his Adam’s apple bobbed up
and down.
Another
cheerleader appeared behind Thelma.
“Shush,” she was told. More cheerleaders
showed up. Soon a face appeared in a
window on the other side of the classroom
Mr. Bishop
selected another paper. It was only thirty
minutes before the game was due to start.
More faces
appeared, looking in the windows all around the classroom, anxiously watching
to see if Emily would pass her test.
Then the
sound of the marching band playing “Take me out to the Ballgame” could be heard
coming towards the bungalow. There were
four sharp whistles, and the band came to a parade rest, right outside!
“FALL OUT!”
the drum major yelled, and the band spread out onto the two ramps leading to
the room. They were all trying to see
inside. The flag girls and the drill
team positioned themselves around the perimeter.
Mr. Bishop
ignored them all and selected another paper.
Students
and teachers from all over the school began surrounding the bungalow.
A couple of
baseball umpires in stripped uniforms wandered by. They were lost, having missed the large sign
directing them to the ball field. Their
mistake was quickly pointed out to them, and they wandered off again.
A couple of
home economic students, worried about their test results, tried to slip in one
of the two doors with plates of covered bribes, but they couldn’t get past the
band. Instead the food was confiscated
and passed throughout the crowd.
A busload
of student supporters from
Emily
looked around in astonishment. She had
not realized she had so many friends.
But she didn’t see Howie anywhere!
Suddenly,
Thelma Takahasi started a cheer. “GIVE
ME AN ‘E’!” she screamed.
“EEEEEEEE!”
the crowd responded.
“Shush,”
they were told, as Mr. Bishop selected another paper.
“Give me an
‘m’!” Thelma whispered.
“mmmmmmmm!”
the crowd whispered
“Give me an
‘i’!” Thelma continued
“iiiiiiii!”
the crowd responded
“l!” She
added.
“llllllll!”
they multiplied.
“y!” She
asked.
“yyyyyyyy!”
they insisted, “Because we love her!”
Then they
all yelled, and screamed, and clapped, and cheered, and whistled – very, very
softly.
Mr. Bishop
was down to the last test paper. It was
Emily’s
The crowd
grew quiet.
Emily grew
tense!
There was fifteen
minutes left before the game was due to start.
Mr.
Bishop’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
He perused the paper, staring at it owl-like, comparing it to his answer
guide.
The silence
grew deafening.
He gave
Emily puzzled look with his unblinking eyes.
They all
held their breaths!
“You
passed,” he finally admitted. He was
clearly disappointed.
The roar of
the crowd was loud!
The
school’s jocks could no longer be held back.
Emily had bested Mr. Bishop. She
was their hero. They broke into the
room, past the band, and lifted Emily into the air desk and all. Then they carried her off to the game.
Leaving Mr.
Bishop to stare mournfully at the empty food plates left behind by the
departing crowd.