Chapter 2: What Do You Want to Be?
Ordinarily, no one would have imagined that Jack Rankin would vandalize a desk. But this was not an ordinary school year for Jack -- or for any of his classmates, either.
The town of Huntington was growing, and more families with kids were moving in all the time. The town seemed to be playing a game of musical chairs -- too many kids and not enough schoolrooms.
The kids in grades nine through twelve were all set. They had already made the move to a brand-new high school out on the west edge of town. The elementary school was still in good shape, but it was only big enough now for the kids in kindergarten through grade three.
It was Jack and the other kids caught in the middle grades who had the problem. The old junior high would work fine for grades four and five -- that is, after about ten months of repair work. And the kids in grades six, seven, and eight would have a shiny, new junior high school -- in about another year.
So where do you park Jack and about seven hundred other kids and all their teachers and textbooks and computers and printers and copiers and TVs and VCRs and art supplies, plus their library, for a whole school year?
Simple. You put them in the old high school.
Not simple. Not simple at all.
The old high school was...well, it was old.
The four-story brick building had been part of Huntington's town center for more than seventy-five years. The broad front lawn was split by a wide sidewalk leading up to the front steps. High above the front steps, a square bell tower rose another thirty feet beyond the roofline. The bell tower was capped by a green copper dome with a weather vane on top -- made in the shape of an open book.
The old high school had been built back when fewer kids went on to college. It was Huntington's monument to higher education. For generations graduation from Huntington High had been the goal line.
But not for Jack and the other middle graders. For them it was going to be an educational stopover -- sort of like a long field trip. It would be nothing more than a strange world they would pass through on their way to somewhere else.
And from the second Jack heard about the move, he wished he could make the whole place just disappear.
The news of the school changes had been mailed to every home in Huntington just before spring break during Jack's fourth-grade year. His mom had read the letter aloud at supper one night.
Someone at the school superintendent's office thought it would be fun to give the transition process a cute name. The letter began like this:
Dear Student:
Are you and your friends and family ready for Huntington's newest adventure in learning? Next year will be the year of
THE BIG SWITCHEROO!
Jack was not amused.
After she finished the letter, his mom said, "Don't you think it's exciting, Jack? Those special tours in June should be fun. They want all the kids to feel comfortable, especially the fourth- and fifth-grade kids...Of course, that's not a problem for you, I mean with your dad working there and all."
Jack looked quickly at his dad across the dinner table. "Won't you be going to work at the new high school, Dad? I mean, you're the high school janitor, right?"
Wiping his mouth, John Rankin smiled and said, "Nope. It doesn't work that way. What I am is the janitor for a building. The high school and all the high school kids are moving, but the building stays -- so I stay too. No one knows that building like I do. Unless the town decides to tear it down, that'll be where I work."
Jack's mom said, "I loved going to school in that old place. It's got character, you know? And Jackie, if you don't want to take the bus some mornings, you could ride to school in the pickup with your dad."
Looking down at the pile of peas on his plate, Jack thought, Yeah, right. Like I'm going to ride to school with the janitor.
Jack knew he'd be on that bus every day, no matter what.
Jack remembered the first time he had been asked about his future. It was second grade, and Miss Patton had a let's-get-acquainted session on the first day of school. Jack liked Miss Patton. She wore the same kind of perfume that his grandmother wore, only a lot less. She was conducting a little public interview with each student. She asked questions like, Do you have any brothers or sisters? Do you have any pets? What's your favorite food? Do you like sports? If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?The last question she asked was always, And what do you want to be when you grow up?
The answers to that question had been all over the place.
"I'm going to be a policeman."
"I want to be a doctor."
"I want to own a ranch and raise cows and chickens."
"I want to be a lawyer when I grow up."
"I'm going to be an astronaut and fly to Jupiter."
"I'm going to make computers."
Then it was Jack's turn.
Favorite color? Blue.
Brothers or sisters? One little sister.
Favorite food? Pizza.
"And what do you want to be when you grow up, Jack?"
There was no hesitation. Jack smiled with perfect second-grade certainty and he said, "I want to be a janitor, like my dad."
Before Miss Patton could say something like, "That's great, Jack," some kids in the class began to giggle. Raymond Hollis blurted out, "A janitor? That's a job for dum-dums! Hey, Jack wants to grow up to be a dum-dum like his dum-dum daddy!"
That got the whole class laughing. Miss Patton shushed them and said, "Raymond, that was not nice, and you owe Jack an apology. Being a janitor is a perfectly good job, and I'm sure Jack is very proud of his dad."
Jack was proud of his dad, and he loved him very much. But laughter from kids is more powerful than words from teachers. Raymond had to stand up and say, "I'm sorry, Jack," but Jack could tell he didn't mean it.
Ever since that day in second grade, whenever the conversation turned toward parents and jobs, Jack clammed up.
But as fifth grade approached, the topic was going to be unavoidable. All summer long, whenever Jack thought about school, he felt like he was trapped in a bad dream.
Copyright © 2000 by Andrew Clements
