Jack packed his textbooks and notebooks into his backpack and was heading for the door when he heard his father's voice.
"Good luck today, son. Get some good grades."
Smiling, Jack replied, "I will, Dad. Thanks for the encouragement. I'm going to try my best."
Sprinting outside, Jack ran into his classmate, Mike.
"Oh, hey, Jack! Not in a hurry to get to class either, I see? Hey, did you finish all the homework?"
Mike reached for his notebook, but Jack stopped him.
"It's okay, I believe you. Who wouldn't believe a straight-A student? Anyway, we'd better pick up the pace, or we're going to catch heat if we're late for school."
The boys dashed across the yard, playfully jostling each other to see who was faster. Near the entrance, the principal spotted them.
"Alright, what's with all the running? Get inside, both of you. You've picked up enough mud out here without dragging it into the halls."
Jack and Mike nodded and quickly vanished through the doors. There were still ten minutes before the bell, and Jack checked his bag one more time just to be safe. Standing tall, he let out a breath and muttered to himself, "It's always the same: when I'm in a rush, I end up double-checking everything a hundred times."
Finally, the bell rang, and the students hurried into the classroom. However, the teacher wasn't in her usual spot. A few kids even let out a hopeful whisper that the teacher might be sick and class would be canceled. But no such luck; two minutes later, a stout woman in her early forties walked in and greeted them loudly.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Mrs. Miller, your new math teacher. Mrs. Thompson is on leave for now, so I'll be filling in. But it's quite possible I'll be staying with you for a long time. Are we happy about that, class?"
She flashed a smirk so malicious it made the students feel instantly uneasy. They nodded instinctively without saying a word. Jack and Mike sat at their desks and started whispering. Mrs. Miller noticed and barked a warning at them. For the rest of the period, the boys gave her no reason to look their way. At the same time, they realized the new teacher was a piece of work. It was hard to say exactly how they knew, but the fact that the students disliked her immediately was undeniable. Despite her harshness, Mrs. Miller conducted the lesson perfectly. After math, Jack and Mike had four more classes, but those went smoothly since the teachers were the same as always.
During one of the breaks, the boys went out onto the school steps to discuss the new teacher. Jack started.
"I don't know about you, but I don't like her at all. Did you see how she snapped at Mary when she tripped over a word at the board? We're in for a rough time. On the bright side, Mike, we've handled worse situations than this, right?"
Mike smiled back. "Definitely. Come on, let's go. Two more classes and then we're home."
As it turned out, Mrs. Miller hadn't ended up at this school by accident; she was a protégé of the Superintendent of Schools. One could only guess what other "merits," aside from high-level connections, had helped her career. She had recently moved from a small rural town where she taught elementary school, and suddenly she was teaching a specialized subject in the city. Her connections had helped her adapt to the metropolitan lifestyle very quickly.
As for the boys, they didn't really care who their teacher was as long as there were no problems—especially if their homework wasn't done well. And, as it happened, such an occasion would soon play a cruel joke on Jack. But he didn't know that yet and continued living his steady rhythm. When he got home, the first thing he did was check on his father.
"Dad, I got an A in English today, but the math teacher gave me a C. And I did all the homework, too. It's like she's picking on me on purpose."
His father sat back in his chair with some effort and said, "I never doubted you, son. But show me your notebook. I want to see for myself if that C was unfair."
Jack pulled the notebook from his bag and handed it over. "Here, Dad. I've got nothing to hide. Check it."
Gary flipped through a few pages and stopped at today's date. He stared at the problem and the way his son had solved it for a long time before finally speaking.
"I don't get it. Everything is correct. Why such a low grade? Well, son, we'll see what happens. If this happens again, I'll go speak with her personally, and the principal too."
Gary tried to stand up, but his legs suddenly gave way.
"Dad, don't get up. Just sit for a bit. The doctor said you have to move slowly and avoid sudden movements."
His father nodded, looking as if he were about to cry. "Thank you, Jack, for taking care of me."
Jack put his arms around his father's shoulders and whispered softly, "If Mom were here right now, she'd be proud of you. I'm going to go put the kettle on. You stay put."
The sound of Jack rattling dishes and opening the fridge drifted from the kitchen. He pulled out some bread and ham and made sandwiches. But before he could walk back into the living room, he saw his father holding a photo of his mother, whispering something. Gary startled and tucked the photo away.
"Let's go to the kitchen; no sense in just eating dry sandwiches. I made some soup earlier. I hope you like it."
It was difficult for Gary to move, but he endured it all so his son could grow up in a comfortable home. They ate lunch together, and then Jack went to his room to do his homework. Gary watched him go and called out, "Show me your work when you're done. I don't like the sound of this new teacher being so biased."
Jack nodded. "Okay, Dad. But honestly, Mike and I knew right away she had an attitude. She was picking on other kids, too. And the worst part is, it looks like she's staying for a while."
Gary ruffled his son's hair and pulled him into a hug to give him some confidence. Jack understood and promised to do his assignments carefully. When the boy went to his room, Gary took out the photo of his wife again. With tears in his eyes, he traced the glass frame with his finger. In the picture, she was smiling at him, almost beckoning him to follow. Wiping his face with a handkerchief, Gary spoke softly, so his son wouldn't hear.
"I can't come to you yet, Sarah. I still have to get Jack on his feet."
He put his head in his hands and sat frozen for several minutes. It felt as if the world had vanished and he was in a void. But his son's voice brought him back to reality.
"Dad, I need some help. This problem is tough."
Gary pulled himself together and even brightened up a little. "Coming, son. I'm all yours."
After looking over the draft and making a few small corrections, he handed it back to Jack. "There, now it's all set. But check it one more time for mistakes. And don't forget to copy it into your clean notebook later."
Jack thanked his father for the help and glanced at the clock. "Can I go hang out with Mike for a bit? I'll finish everything as soon as I get back."
Gary gave an approving nod. "Sure, just stay in the neighborhood. You've got school early tomorrow, and you need your sleep."
As promised, Jack stayed nearby. He and Mike kicked a ball around for a while and then headed home. But as fate would have it, after being outside, Jack completely forgot about his draft. He tucked his notebooks into his bag and got ready for bed. Gary didn't remember either and wished his son a good night. Who would have thought that such a small oversight would lead to a nightmare at school? Not just a reprimand from a teacher, but a full-blown tirade fueled by bitterness. All of that was waiting for Jack, but for now, he was fast asleep.
In the middle of the night, Jack woke up to a sound of heavy breathing and groaning. For a moment, he thought someone was in the apartment. But it was his father's voice; he was grunting softly and scratching at the headboard of his bed. Jack put on his slippers and walked out of his room.
"Dad, are you okay?"
"Yeah, son. My legs just gave out and I've got a cramp. I can't stand up."
Jack walked over and helped his father up. "Maybe you need to see the doctor again? Maybe they can change your treatment."
Gary just waved him off. "It's fine. It'll pass. Why are you up? Can't sleep?"
Jack nodded and whispered, "Yeah, Dad. I guess I was just stressed today, and now my mind won't shut off."
He didn't want to admit that he heard every little sound because he was so worried about his father. No matter how you looked at it, he was the only one his father had. After the accident, most of their relatives had turned their backs on them. They didn't just stop helping; they didn't even call. It felt as if Gary and his son lived in a vacuum. This heavy burden weighed on Gary, but there was nothing he could do. He had tried to make peace once, but his relatives wouldn't even listen. After waiting until his father felt better, Jack went to the kitchen for a glass of water and went back to bed. But sleep wouldn't come. He knew that he was his father's only support. There was only one way forward: he had to become independent and take on more of the household responsibilities. Jack already did what he could, but he wanted to do more—to build his character and grow into a strong man.
In the morning, he woke up early and washed up. His father was already in the kitchen, staring out the window.
"Breakfast is ready, son. You don't have to rush."
How did he manage that? Jack wondered if his father had slept at all. As he gathered his things for school, he daydreamed that the new teacher wouldn't show up. But that didn't happen, and neither did the thing Jack had forgotten. The draft was still in his bag, and the work hadn't been copied into his clean notebook. That should have been his priority, but the morning bustle had made him lose focus.
He headed to class with mixed emotions. On one hand, his father was home alone and getting worse; on the other, he had to face the teacher who had rubbed him the wrong way from day one. It wasn't just about the homework; it was the way she treated the kids. According to everything he knew about teaching, there was no room for sarcasm and spite. Yet Mrs. Miller seemed to juggle both with ease.
Near the school entrance, Jack met Mike. "Hey, man, didn't you check the time? Why didn't you wait for me?"
Mike hung his head and said quietly, "I didn't finish the math, and I don't know what's going to happen."
Suddenly, it clicked for Jack. "Oh, man! I never copied my draft into my notebook. Well, hopefully we'll have time before class starts."
But between the locker room and their own hesitation, the boys didn't manage to get the work copied. They sat down at their desks as the teacher walked in, filled with a sense of dread.
Mrs. Miller started the lesson by checking the homework. Since there were no volunteers to go to the board, she decided to go down the rows. As luck would have it, she called Jack to the board—and told him to bring his notebook. He had no choice; he had to go up with his messy draft. When she saw the tattered notebook in his hands, she snatched it and screamed.
"What is this? You come to my board with this filthy rag? You have no respect for mathematics, the queen of sciences! You are a worthless student, and you have no future, I promise you that!"
Then, she tore the draft to pieces and threw it out the open window. The class went dead silent. The girls, who all liked Jack, were stunned. They knew his family's story. They also knew that Jack's father was a hero, even if things were hard for him now. But the teacher clearly had no idea who she was talking to. She opened her grade book and glared at Jack.
"Tell me your last name right now! I'm giving you a failing grade that will make your parents' heads spin."
Jack was silent, fighting back tears. One of the girls in the class spoke up. "Mrs. Miller, he's fourth on the list."
The teacher ran her pen down the list and nearly choked. Staring at the name, she flipped to the back of the book to find the student's file and his parents' names. In a trembling voice, she asked Jack, "Are you Jack Gary Stern? Am I seeing this right?"
The girl who had pointed out his name came closer and confirmed it. "Yes, Mrs. Miller. This is Jack Stern."
In an instant, the pen dropped from the teacher's hand. she began to sob, clutching her chest. A moment later, she rushed toward him, wailing.
"Forgive me, Jack! I didn't know you were the son of..."
She choked on the name. But then the classroom door opened, and Jack's father's voice rang out.
"Gary is my name, and our last name is indeed Stern."
Jack snapped out of his shock and ran to his father. "Dad! What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be moving around!"
Behind him walked their neighbor, Mr. Harrison. "Hey, Jack. I helped your dad get here. I still had my late brother's wheelchair. It came in handy, but once we got to the school, your dad insisted on standing on his own two feet in front of the teacher."
Mrs. Miller approached Gary and nearly fell to her knees. "I am so deeply sorry, Mr. Stern. I never thought I would meet you in person, let alone teach your son. I still remember how you saved my child, at such a great cost to yourself."
***
The story had happened six months ago. Gary and his wife were driving to pick up Jack from his grandmother's house. Everything seemed fine until a speeding driver rounded a corner and headed straight for a pedestrian crossing. A young schoolgirl was crossing the street at that exact moment. Gary had only a split second to react, and he decided to intercept the car. In a flash, he realized he had to take the hit on the rear of his vehicle. But the impact was so violent that it spun Gary's car into a light pole—directly on the side where his wife was sitting. The girl managed to run away with only a minor scare, and the speeder crashed into a ditch. By the time the ambulance and rescue crews arrived, Gary's wife was gone. Gary was left disabled for life, and his wife was gone forever. He had tried to save a stranger's child and lost the person closest to him.
Remembering those events, the teacher apologized again. She went outside herself to retrieve the torn pieces of the draft, promising to rewrite everything into a new notebook. The conflict was resolved, especially since Gary held no grudge against her. He even invited her to visit his wife's grave with them. Mrs. Miller agreed, and as they stood by the small fence of the plot, she whispered:
"God sees that their lives were a gift from heaven. May all the happiness on this earth wrap them in care and kindness."
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