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This is a short story I wrote on my own free time. It's pretty popular(but so is Britany Spears). And i don't think you have to like or know alot about a certain heavy metal band to like it. Enjoy ;)
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"Remember class, tomorrow is Career Day. So please bring your working parent or parents to school and have them share with the class what they do for a living." the fifth grade teacher droned.
A paper wad hit the back of Nates head just before Mr. Tilden turned from the black board, which read CAREER DAY in perfectionistic hand writing. Nate turned to his harassers and gave them a half-hearted dirty look. Three giggling boys at the back of the class gave each other low fives. Throughout the math and science lessons, broken pencils and paper wads (that if uncrumpled were either failed tests or had the word Butt face! written in sloppy hand writing) were thrown toward Nate.
At 11:30 Mr. Tilden had the class line up for lunch. Nate thought he would be safe there, where he could just sit at the end of a lunch table in his most enjoyed solitude. He didnt mind being by himself. He liked being alone. He didnt really like any of the kids at his school. He didnt feel he fit in with any of them, not even the other misfits. Nate was very mature and not just for his age. He only truly enjoyed being in the company of his dads friends. Those were his best friends. All the other kids in the fifth grade thought he was weird. But they just didnt understand how a kid could not talk or play games with other kids. So, they just left him alone.
Nate picked up chocolate milk, chicken nuggets, and mashed potatoes with ketchup to dunk the chicken nuggets in. He paid the lunch lady and began walking to a secluded empty seat. He walked past the gang of bullies from his class (A.J., Danny, and Josh). They seemed not to notice him but, then, Josh stuck his foot out in front of Nate. Nate tripped over it and his face landed right in his potatoes. As he laid belly side down on the cafeteria floor with his face in the white mush, the entire fifth grade went into an uproar. Nate pushed himself up and wiped the gloppy mess from his face. Even the teachers were chuckling to themselves.
"Look everyone! Hes not butt face any more! Hes potato face!" A.J. taunted.
Nate stood up, still with some of the food on his face, and said, Very clever, A.J.
"Must have took you all night to figure that ingenious plan out." Then he stormed off to the boys room to wash the rest off.
He turned the water on, cupped his hands, and splashed himself in the face. He turned the cold water off and let his face drip into the basin for a moment. Then, he walked over to the mirror across the room and starred solemnly at the butt face in the reflection.
He just did not understand where those guys were getting off calling him butt face. Of course, he didnt think he was the most handsome devil around, but didnt very well think himself Sasquatch either. He didnt worry about his appearance, but he was beginning to get a little more sensitive to all the remarks. No matter how much it looked as though they didnt faze him, they did hurt him somewhere deep inside.
Maybe theyre right. Maybe I am ugly, he thought while inspecting his face with a few pokes and pinches. Maybe I just cant tell because Im used to all the ugliness. I must be like those kids who smell and dont know it, just because their house and family reek too. He mentally gasped then, thought What if dad is ugly too and he doesnt know either!? Man, what am I going to do? I cant very well get a plastic surgeon. I mean, what am I going to tell him,' My face resembles a butt. Please fix it?' Other than that, I dont know whats wrong with me. His inner monologue stopped for a moment. Or at least whats just wrong with my face. He corrected himself after remembering that just yesterday, while sitting on the couch with his dad, his eyes happened to wonder over to one of his tattoos. He began to gaze into it, wondering what would posses his father to get an insane priest engraved into his skin, when he let his imagination answer (or at least thats what he later convinced himself it was, his imagination). The mans eyes began to glow red and his evil smile became even more twisted. Then it spoke in a demented, breathy voice, Come home with me, fag. It reached out to snatch him.
"Nate? "his father asked in a worried tone. His dad was always worried about him. Only this time he was justified for being so, after seeing his sons face, starring at his arm, horrified. He snapped out of it, but still a little shaken. "Are you okay? "he said while tilting his head a little to express his confusion of his sons sudden mood swing. Just moments ago they were both up in hysterics over one of the Def Jam Comedy volumes.
Nate forwarded his frightened stare into his fathers concerned eyes, then looked away, because he was about tell a little white lie, which he didnt enjoy in the slightest." Nothing. Im fine." He said while shaking his head to confirm his words. This and other episodes somewhat similar had him not standing on a solid concrete belief that he was completely sane, but he never talked about with anyone. He didnt even want his dad to know. He didnt want him worrying about him any more than he already was. And he didnt really think his dad would understand, but little did he know; he couldnt be any further from the truth.
Nate spent that recess in a tree watching the other kids play basketball in the distance and counting how many times A.J. or one of his disciples cheated and even became appalled when they laughed and did their traditional hand slaps when the ball bounced off an innocent, female bystanders head. After recess, the class was seated with no authority to silence them. But instead of having 14 different conversations bouncing around and off the walls they had something like an open discussion.
Career Day was being somewhat anticipated as a chance to show off your parents success or, as it was to most, a day of that new interactive learning program that was being pushed on traditional (meaning boring) educational directors. A break from the normal, reason-for-ADD-classes might also describe as well or better.
"My moms a doctor," one girl inputted during the middle of the discussion.
Our dads a video clerk, the class twins monotonously said. Those girls kind of wigged Nate out at times. The seemed to have something like a uni-mind, like in this alien movie he saw once. They acted like they were aliens too. They made incredible grades and hade been moved up into the third grade and had been with his generation ever since. But Nate didnt hear any of the buzz going around him. He was busy in his own world; thinking if should ask his dad to come to the Career Day the following day. He didnt want to bother his dad with such a request. He knew his father had been recently very busy with his work. He decided not to.
"My dads a plumber!" one boy proclaimed proudly.
"Ewwwww!" the class responded in disgust.
"Whats your dad do, Nate?" a girl to his immediate left asked sincerely.
Nate looked up from laying his head down in his arms on the desk. It was the girl who got hit in the head at recess. She was smiling at him.
"What? "
"What does your mom or dad do?" she repeated.
"Oh." His face and back suddenly became a little warmer. He didnt notice yet but the entire class was watching. He answered hesitently, "Hes a -."
"Butt face, like you! "A.J. taunted. The classroom had a wave of laughter roll through it. Nate looked into all the giggling faces and saw no pity in any, besides the girl who asked him, but just one person who had the decency to not put others down didnt make him feel any better about it. He sunk a little lower in his seat. Then A.J. continued, after he had a good chuckle and that traditional hand slap with Danny and Josh. "I bet hes just as weird and ugly too!" he said over the laughter.
Nate suddenly felt offended. He insulted his father: a man he truly admired and respected." No hes not!" he said boldly. The class silenced slowly. "He's an artist. "
"An artist?? Oh great Im going to fall asleep while hes talking! Artists are so boring!" A.J. complained.
"Oh yeah? Well my moms a police officer and she says your dads a filthy bum that doesnt give a crap about his family! "the girl next to Nate spat back at A.J.. The class began to laugh at A.J., as he crossed his arms over his chest and took a moment to think of a come back.
"And youre fat, Candie!" The class silenced as one of the alpha dog reclaimed his position of authority once more.
Mr. Tilden returned to the classroom and smiled slightly to find his students, as they should be: quietly sitting at their desks. He began his social studies lesson without delay.
But Nate was too enraged to notice. He sat with all his muscles twitching and tightening. He squeezed his hands into fists unconsciously. His little eyebrows furrowed.
How dare they call my dad ugly and boring! He thought to himself. They dont even know him! "They dont know him." he growled softly. His fists became tighter and redder. A student in front of him turned and glanced at Nate. When he saw the infuriated expression upon his face, he quickly turned forward. Now, Ive got to get Dad to come to school for that Career Day thing tomorrow. "Well show them." He smirked to himself. The same kid from in front of him glanced once more back at Nate and saw the evil-like crooked grin that was indented in his face. The child swiftly turned forward once more, now even more scared than before and just about to wet the seat. Hell blow those other parents right outta the water. But then a thought came to him that made his face droop to a worried lump. Awe no, he'll probably be too busy. Thats all hes really been doing lately: working. I know his works important to him. I dont know if I should ask him now. What am I going to do?
The rest of the day he racked his brain at that question. The rest of the social studies lesson, through the D.A.R.E. program session, through the second recess, the spelling tests, he didnt even notice the mini-gangs attempt at pestering him, which meant he didnt get to see their disappointed faces when they didnt get a rise out of him, the only time through the day when he actually was somewhat aware of his surroundings was during the reading portion of the lesson. The class had an assignment book to read, it was called Of Sons and Soldiers. It was about a twelve year old boy who is the youngest of his brothers and has been the chosen one to lift the curse off his kings dreary, doomed land by going into a cave of ancient puzzles and exotic mysteries of sorts. Nate found it quite entertaining.
The bell rang, as he was finishing chapter fourteen. He sat and finished his last page and the hurriedly joined the hustle and bustle of the hallway to get to his bus. The bus ride was always rowdy, but Nate returned to his pensive state as he sat in his seat, alone and starring out the window. Then, actually almost missed his stop, if it wasnt for his psychopathic bus driver," NATE, GET OFF THE BUS! Ya ungrateful spoiled little brat. In my day we never got a new pair of sneakers, or chucks as those n$%%er wannabes callem, every six months. We had to wait till our toes were poppin out." She babbled to herself, but not lowering her voice. She as well made him a little wigged out but, she did that to all the kids. Its not like he was special or being singled out.
When he tried to open the door he discovered that it was locked. Dad must be working a little over, he thought, feeling a little pride glow inside him. He was very proud of his dad, but he never bragged about it. He didnt want to look like an arrogant jerk. Thats the last thing he ever wanted to be.
He went over to the middle of the yard to a pile of dog crap. Then he stood over it for a moment chuckling inside his head. His dad thought it was funniest thing ever, okay well, not ever but he thought it was pretty funny. Nate lifted the plastic poop and opened the little compartment to retrieve the house key from it.
The house was silent inside and felt so empty for a place that was filled with expensive decorative accessories. Nate shut the door behind him and ran upstairs to watch a movie he had been yearning to see all day: From Hell (a Jack the Ripper tale). It was quite a horrific movie for a ten year old, but Nate is very mature for his age, as we should very well remember. He found it gross, but strangely compelling at the same time. Seeing all the blood and guts and organs lying in disarray, intrigued him.
He heard the front door slam. He had left his bedroom door open just for that purpose. He quickly stopped his movie and clicked off the TV and flew downstairs.
"Dad? "he asked the man making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
The man turned around, peanut buttery knife in hand still. "Hey, Nate!" he said a little surprised. "What are you doing home so early? "
"Dad, its four oclock".
"Oh. Must have got caught up in work again. Sorry." he said remorsefully.
"Its okay, Dad. Look Ive got to ask something of you. But you dont have to do it if youre too busy."
"I'm listening. "
"See, my class is having a Career Day tomorrow and everyones been talking about it all day. And at first, I wasnt going to ask you but then after recess, the kids were all talking about it and this girl asked me what you did. And before I could answer this kid, A.J., yelled out loud that you were butt face, like me."
"A butt face?" he asked a little confused. Nate nodded. "Butt face is the best they could come up with? "
"I guess. But anyway, they also called you boring, after I told them that you were an artist."
"Oh. Really."
"So . . . youll come?"
He stood with his back facing Nate and eating his sandwich. "Oh, Ill do more than just come." There was a questionable silence from his father."
"Dad, what are you plotting?" Nate asked suspiciously.
"Plotting? Whos plotting? I didnt say anything about plotting. Why would you think I was plotting anything?" he asked innocently.
"Dad?"
"Dont worry about it, son. I wont do anything too crazy."
"Okay, if you say so".
"I've got some calls to make. Do want the rest of my sammich? "
"Sure!" he said as he was taking the half eaten sandwich from his hands. "And Dad?"
"Mmmhmm?"
"Thanks."
"Anything for you." he said with a smile.
Nate returned back up to his room to continue the rest of his movie. And Dad went off to his office to make the phone calls. He picked up the phone and dialed. On the third ring and man picked up.
"James? - - - - - - Yeah, Ive got a favor to ask of you. - - - Not like that, you perv! - - - Are you going to be busy tomorrow . . .? "
The next day at school, before the bell sounded, all the children puzzled over the semi parked on the playground. Nate was the only one who knew anything about it but as usual he wasn't saying a word. He just sat on his tree branch, watching the children interact with one another.
In class, after school started there were a few extra teachers in class: a doctor, a police officer, a video clerk, a bank teller, and a few other careers, and, of course, the plumber. But oddly not one artist was present.
Parents took their turn volunteering to speak. And of course all the kids, whom were more worried what was for lunch, were paying acute attention. The only exception was when the police officer pulled out her gun to show. And there were a few laughs when the plumber pulled out his plunger and said, "This is my weapon against dookie".
Mr. Tilden asked when he thought everyone had gone, "Have all the parents had a chance to speak?
"No", Nate replied standing up in his seat. All the eyes shifted to Nate. He felt himself blush. "Uh- umm . . . My dad hasn't gone yet."
"Well, were is he?"
"His presentation is a kind of special and he needed some more room. He's set up in the auditorium."
"Okay, then."
"And is it all right if he brought some of his co-workers?"
"I suppose so." He quickly turned his attention to the class. "Now everyone, file into the auditorium and quietly sit down." The students and adults did as they were told. The parents began to feel like they were back in grade school as they got in line with their children.
As they were walking in single-file, Nate ran in the same direction but took the back entrance to the stage. "Nate, you're finally back." His father said a little annoyed but relieved at the same time.
It was dark on stage with the curtains closed. "Yeah, sorry. There were a lot of parents." He walked over to the curtains and poked his head slightly out to see what was going on. The kids were still finding places to sit. He pulled his head back in. He stood with his head bowed, holding it in his right hand and his right elbow was being held by his left hand and tried to gather his thoughts. His dad had decided earlier that he should be the one to introduce them. Although as nervous as he was, Nate didn't want to dis-appoint his father. Nate didn't know it at the time but all the anxiety he felt was a "gift" he inherited from his father. He looked back at the fifth grade collection (earlier that same morning Nate had his principal announce to all his school mates to attend this once in a life time event). He saw A.J.'s agitated face. Nate smiled a little. Now's the time.
He looked at his dad. And he smiled, stuck his thumbs up and said, "Go for it Nathan!"
He smiled back at him. "Thanks, Dad."
Then he slipped past the curtains and stepped up to the mic. He cleared his throat to silence the fifth graders. They quieted and, mainly, focused their attention to Nate. He starred into the faceless ocean of people. He began to feel dizzy and light headed. His heart raced like a jackrabbit escaping a coyote. You can't do this to Dad, Nathan! He told himself. You have to introduce him. You can't let him down. He's counting on you! He slowly regained his composure. Then finally spoke. "My dad is an artist, he said plainly.
A.J. and his gang made snoring sounds. A small circle of kids around them giggled. Nate furrowed his brow at them then, tried again. "My dad is an artist. His name is Jon Davis." He smiled. " But he's not just any artist. He's the singer of the greatest heavy metal band in the world, he said proudly. "You may have heard of them." The huge purple curtains pulled away to reveal a band, consisting of two guitarists, a bassist, a drummer, and a long skirt-wearing singer. "This is the drummer. His name is David Silveria." The blonde, spiky-hair man seated behind the drum set smiled and nodded while bouncing his knee up and down. "This is the bassist, Feildy." The darkest colored man with long cornrows on his head smiled and took a bow. "This is the greatest guitar duo in the universe. Brian Welch also known as Head " A tall man with twisted braids all over his head waved childishly. "And James Shaffer, also known as Munky" A man with dark brown messy dreads in a one piece garbage man looking jumpsuit looked up from messing with his guitar with a crazed look in his eyes. Then dropped the insane appearance and smiled and waved in the same childish way as his friend, Head.
Nate backed up and put his arm around his dad. "And of course, my dad, Jonathan Davis." Jon smiled and put his hand on his son's shoulder. Then, he took the microphone. "I think I can sum up my life with one song. It's called 'Reclaim My Place'. And don't worry teachers. I'll edit myself with stuff the kids'll think is funny."
The confused crowd clapped lightly. "Teachers and students, boys and girls, children of all ages!" Nate smiled and began stepping to the side of the stage and yelled with his arm out, "Korn!"
An odd guitar intro by Head and quickly after it started a What the fart!?" The young crowd listened a little more intently than they had for any of the other careers before. Jon's presentation went something like this, "Give me something to say! Something super fly, never plain. All I hear is disgrace! Erase them all and reclaim my place!" Then he began to sing in a less harsh sounding voice. "In-the-past-I-was-known-as-a-freak." He said chopping up the sentence. "Had no friends. Picked on cause I was weeeak, He sang in a nice tone. "Save my booty, I got into this band" He sang pointing first at his butt then back at his band mates, who were going insane back there jumping around and swinging all that messy hair all over the place. "Never thought the band would take on-the man, He sang the rest of the verses and some of the kids even started to bop their heads to the music. This made Jon smile. Then he ended the song with a string of screaming "WHAT THE FART?!" s. By the time it was over, the entire room of ten year-olds had busted out in a roar of laughter and applause. Even A.J.'s "home boys" couldn't hold it in.
Then Jon took a look at what he had just created once again, chaos and smiled. Then he saw the little boy with his arms crossed and the who was also the only kid not in stitches and immediately knew who this young man was. Then spoke one last thing into the microphone. "Hope I didn't bore you too much, A.J." |
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