Chapter 1: Ernie’s Situation

I heard some of the boys laughing in the hall. Ernie’s name came up more than once and one thing I don’t tolerate is bullying. To me that includes picking on someone, name calling, and of course abusiveness. Today they were teasing him because of his clothes. I gave them all a warning, being mean to someone because he is less fortunate has no place in my classroom. I told them to move on and went to my empty room. I looked up Ernie’s file to see just what his situation could be.

Turns out Ernie was being raised by his grandmother. His parents died in a house fire a few years back. he had no brothers, no sisters, and from his file, no other family, just his grandmother. A sad story for a boy to live out. I felt as his teacher and as a concerned neighbor I had to do something to help. I know times are hard and maybe his grandmother lived on a fixed income and couldn’t afford new clothes or top of the line sneakers like the other boys had. After school I would pay his grandmother a visit and see how I could be of assistance.

Ernie was only in my last period class. As much as the others picked on him he was one of my brightest students. Maybe his higher skill for absorbing information and learning was seen as a threat to them and that was how they took it out on him. When he left I took a long hard look at him. Taller than most, undernourished was obvious, and yes, his clothes were tattered and torn. One thing Ernie did have, a smile that would light up the room. He may not have much in materialistic things but he had so much more going on for him as a person. I hope I am not overstepping my boundaries here and interfering where I am not wanted but I couldn’t leave it alone. I had to do something.

His file said he lived on East Canal St, an area I wasn’t familiar with. His house was old and in dire need of maintenance. Even walking on the porch one of the step broke under my foot. When I knocked and nobody answered and a kid on the porch next door said Ernie was at work at the Chicken House. He was only fourteen, why was he working? I passed the place coming here and sure enough he was bussing tables. I left before he could see me. obviously things were in rough shape if he had to work. I went home depressed with what I learned and actually cried for him.

The next day I had plans of talking to Ernie. Find out what him and his grandmother needed. I’m not wealthy but I can part with some if it will help them. I waited until class was over and asked him to stay behind. Once the others left I asked him if things were okay at home. He was a boy of little words, always has been so you have to listen carefully to interrupt what he is saying. Today he had nothing to say except he was fine, no problems and he left me standing there, nothing answered. He was as proud as a boy his age could be and I admired him for it, a trait many adult have yet to acquire.

I took sporadic drives by his house over the next few weeks hoping to find him in the yard or grandma sitting on the porch. I never saw any signs that anyone was home. Finally I did stop and talked with a man walking his dog. I asked about Ernie and his grandmother and the man looked confused. He told me the story of how she passed away two months ago while he cared for her. he said Ernie was a great kid and wouldn’t take handouts from any of us. He asked we not call social services because the closest facility was twenty miles away and he would be forced to leave school. They all looked out for him but alone to support a house was no place for a boy to be. The man asked if I was going to report him and I promised I wouldn’t and asked he not tell Ernie I was asking questions.

I went by the Chicken House and there he was after a full day of school, working to support himself. This was not right and I had to do something, I just didn’t know what. I went home and just sat out in the yard. Ernie had me worried, at fourteen he should be playing baseball, chasing girls, and getting in mischief not becoming an adult overnight. The grass felt nice, a little overgrown and I suppose I would spend my Saturday cutting it and doing yardwork, not something I looked forward to. that was when the light went on upstairs. What if I hired Ernie to do it. I could certainly pay him more than the Chicken House and make sure he was well fed at the same time. maybe gain some trust with him to talk out a smart solution to his problem. I could smile now, I had something to work from.

The next day I asked him to stick around after class. I made my proposition for him doing yardwork for me. I gave him what I thought was a fair wage and tacked on a few bucks because he needed it more than I did. he wasn’t sure until I said I would fire up the grill when he finished and make us lunch, anything he wanted. I even made a joke to let him know I was not completely in the dark and asked if he liked chicken. His smile warmed my heart and he said anything but chicken please. So it was settled and I gave him my address. It wasn’t far, he could walk it in no time. Saturday morning it was.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning and I got up, started coffee, and made some of my special muffins. I knew Ernie would be here soon and wanted him to have a good breakfast before he got started. I felt good helping him. He was a nice kid and deserved to be treated better than he was. life threw him a lot of curve balls, the least I could do was throw one straight down the middle and give him a chance at hitting it. It made me laugh using baseball terms. I bet he would be surprised how much I knew about sports. I looked at the clock and realized I was still in my bedclothes. The bell told me it was to late to run upstairs, Ernie was early.