wasnât supposed to tell them?
âAnd kids coming up to Simon in the hall and saying âDie, faggot.â We consider those overt threats, and we take them very seriously.â
Burroughsâs right cheek expanded outward under pressure from his tongue. âWe all think itâs serious, Mister Barish. Thatâs why weâre here.â
Jack could feel blood beating in his ears, rage building up inside him, and he struggled to keep the pressure he felt out of his voice. âWe think itâs so serious that Iâve spoken to the Title IX administrator at the University, whoâs informed me that since Ohio and federal laws, and I quote, âGuarantee students the right to a school environment free from violence or the threat of physical violence,â and since this threatened violence is about sexual orientation and the school has been warned,â Jack paused, trying to regain control of his voice, âalthough Iâve never been party to a lawsuit, I will sue the district for every dollar I can if anything happens to my son.â
âMister Barish,â Burroughs said, looking out through his round lenses as if from inside a cave, âare you threatening me?â
Absolutely, he longed to say, feeling the telltale tendon bulging on his neck. Not threateningâthis was schoolyard when he was growing upâPromising, cocksucker! Then he felt Gennaâs hand on his knee.
âOf course not, Dr. Burroughs. Iâm sorry if I gave that impression.â
Primordial throat and teeth-baring silence followed, during which Burroughs surely believed he had backed Jack down. Then, with her eyes the balmy side of blue, Genna said, âWhat weâd like, Dr. Burroughs, is for you, or the guidance counselors, someone, to meet as soon as possible with the football team, and tell them how inappropriate this behavior is.â
Jack concentrated on Gennaâs hand squeezing his knee..
âAnd how swiftly and harshly Tipton High will deal both with violence or the threat of violence. Something like that.â
Genna smiled at Burroughsâhow did she manage it?âthen at Jack, as if they were twelve, or maybe eight-year-old chuckle-heads. There was a knock, and Marla entered. âSorry to be late.â She sat in the last remaining chair and crossed her slim legs. âSimon will be here shortly.â
âBefore he arrives,â the principal began, âI wanted to tell Mister and Mrs. Barishâ¦â
Thatâs Doctor and Doctor Barish, Jack thought, but did not say.
ââ¦that there have been complaints about Simonâs behavior.â
âFrom whom?â Jack asked.
âOther students report heâs been holding hands in the hall. Kissing his friend on the cheek. Thatâs against school policy, regardless of gender.â
Genna and Jack glanced at each other. He said, âWhat about kids banging into him saying, âDie, faggotâ?â
âIâm not excusing their behavior. Donât think for a moment anyone is.â Burroughs glanced at the open file folder on his desk. âBut I see that Simon went to a performing arts high school last year. He needs to understand that this is a very different place.â
Genna said, âIâm sure he does.â
âWe know about the Klan march,â Jack said. âThatâs why we settled in Cincinnati in the first place.â
âThat was before my time,â Burroughs said.
Jackâs eyes swung to Marla.
âIt was terrible,â she said. âThere are a lot of ignorant people here.â
âThose attitudes remain in the community,â Burroughs added. âThey just go underground.â
Like badgers.
âWalk around the school sometime,â Burroughs continued. âLook at all the Confederate belt buckles. Youâll see what weâre up against.â His cheek bulged again, as if full of acorns for winter. âThe
Learning to Kill: Stories