Friday, April 11, 2008

Merk’s Olive Branch

By the beginning of grade 4, I was fed up trying to get Merk to forgive me. It was a stupid grudge for a stupid thing that had gone on way too long. I decided I wasn’t even going to try and be nice to her anymore. There would be no ritual of the chairs this year. I had only apathy for her. Besides, I already had a girlfriend and it was Neve.

As the school year began we started learning long multiplication in Math class. That involves multiplying two numbers with multiple digits, for example 935 x 25. You do that by multiplying each digit from one number against each digit from the other number. Then you add the products of each to get a result.

All of a sudden I could not breeze by in math class, because it was no longer a question of memorization. Now you had to think. That was a lot more difficult.

After our teacher taught us how it was done, she wrote five sample problems on the blackboard for us to work on. She told us that when we had our answers we could come up to her desk and she would check them for us. I sat there struggling to figure them out. The kids around me seemed just as confused.

While I was still on the second problem, Merk got up and walked to the teacher’s desk. I was laughing under my breath. If I was struggling, she would have to be completely stumped. As I sat there watching with a smile, the teacher announced, “Class! Suzy a obtenu tous les cinq corrects! Suzy bien faite.”

A groan went through the class. She not only finished them, she got them all right. She walked past me on the way back to her desk. She shot me one of those 'in your face' looks, but said nothing.

In the days that followed, the teacher would again explain how to do long multiplication for those of us that were having trouble. She wrote more sample problems on the board. They were harder ones this time. Each time Merk was always first to the teacher’s desk with the answers and she always had them right.

Math was always my subject. Now it was personal.

I really wanted to find out how Merk was getting this so easily, so I asked Neve if she would find out for me. She didn’t want to go ask, but Holly Presley was willing to do it. Holly reported back that Merk had either taken summer school or spent the summer with a tutor, I can’t remember which.

That explained her advantage, but it still bothered me that Merk was besting me in math.

Then one day a crazy thing happened. Merk talked to me. I have no idea how this conversation started, but she actually talked to me. It was the first time we had talked since grade 1.

“Do you know why I hate you?”

“Yeah, cause I spied on you in the first grade. I remember.”

“No. That’s not it. I hate you, because you’re a goof off. Everything is a big game to you. You don’t even try in class. You skip school all the time….”

“You think I play hookey? I miss school all the time, because I’m sick.”

“That doesn’t matter. When you are here you do nothing. You never do homework. You make paper airplanes. You’re lazy. You cause trouble.” She continued, “I do try. I do go home and study. I do my homework, and every year I end up in the same class with you. It pisses me off that you get by so easily without trying. Imagine where you would be if you did try?”

The irony of being lectured by Merk that day was not lost on me. I had heard that speech a million times from my parents, my brother, my sister, teachers, the principle, hospital tutors, you name it.

When my report cards came out I would take them from the teachers hand and pass them to a classmate without even looking. Then I would say, “I bet you my report card says, ‘M doesn’t apply himself. He is not living up to his potential.’”

Then they would open up my report card and start reading. A few seconds later they would burst out laughing. I would ask them where it says that. They would show me my report card and point.

Merk may have been giving me the silent treatment for three long years, but that girl had been observing. In a way she was paying me a compliment as she talked down to me. I could really understand it from her point of view too. She did work hard in school and she never seemed to get rewarded for it. I felt bad for her.

I was quick to point out that I was not some kind of genius though. This new math we were learning was tripping me up. She seemed to be catching on quicker than anyone, even if I did know why. Then Merk did something that really floored me. She offered to help me.

Three years of treating me like I don’t exist and now she wants to tutor me? I could see right through what she was doing. All those years she felt like I was smarter than her and she resented it. Now she feels like she can negotiate a truce from her new found position of strength. That bothered me.

I may have been lucky enough to breeze through grade school without any effort, but it wasn’t like I was the top student in the class, except in math. I never looked down on anyone. I certainly never looked down on her. I tried everything to be her friend. Now after all these years she is acting like she wants to be mine, because she has an edge?

“No thanks. I’ll get it eventually. And I want you to know that while you were spending all summer learning math, I was outside everyday playing baseball. Maybe you should get a life.”

Then I walked away.

Whatever opportunity there was for us to bury the hatchet that day, I completely pissed it to the wind. To this day that is one of my life’s biggest regrets.