Daniel was a quiet boy, because talking got him hurt.
He knew how much the teachers hated to hear him speak.
He spoke at the wrong times.
He spoke at the wrong volume.
He spoke to the wrong people.
He spoke of the wrong things.
Daniel scribbled and scratched and filled his notebooks.
“Look at Daniel!” “What’s he writing?” “Why doesn’t he talk to us?”
“He talks too much! It’s better if he leaves us alone.”
Daniel doodled. Daniel puzzled. Daniel stayed in his own corner.
“What do you see outside, Daniel?
Stop looking away, and pay attention to the class!”
Daniel sat against the fence at recess. Daniel sat in the back of the bus on field trips.
Daniel walked to school. Daniel walked home. Daniel went straight to his room.
His parents heard his voice and knew it was time for the chores.
It was time to ask why the dishes were dirty.
It was time to ask if the cat had been fed.
Daniel finished quickly. Daniel did his homework by the window.
Daniel’s view was just a tree.
When the birds landed, their wings were as black as the branches.
Daniel stretched out with his stomach against the floor,
running his cheeks and fingers through carpet.
Along the walk to school, there was a chained up dog who barked and chomped
and spat at Daniel.
Along the walk home, an old woman stood where the dog had barked.
She hoed the ground. She trimmed a bush. She mended the fence.
After dark, the streetlights liked to go out as Daniel passed beneath them.
They turned back on after he left.
On rainy days, the puddles swallowed the streets.
Daniel hopped across them like an athlete,
And when he did, the cars driving by honked.
Daniel’s parents called him skinny, and his classmates called him fat.
The teachers seated him in the back of the class with the kids who misbehave,
Mostly because they didn’t like to look at him.
In a book, Daniel learned about the island of Corsica in the Mediterranean Sea,
With summer beaches surrounding winter mountains.
This became his magic country.
He drew a map that looked like the head of a terrier on the back of one of his tests
And was sent to in-school suspension.
Daniel filled his notebooks. When he didn’t have notebooks, Daniel drew on his shoes.
On his way to school, that angry dog would leap at him.
On his way home, that old woman would stare.
“Why do you lie to your teachers?” the principal asked him.
Daniel shrugged, “I don’t know what I’m lying about.”
“Why do you harass your classmates?”
Daniel shrugged. “I try to leave everyone alone.”
“You don’t have to stay after school,” he said. “I won’t keep my teachers from going home.
But I’m taking away your recess until further notice.”
Daniel slumped his head but did not argue.
“And don’t go speaking back to me,” the principal added.
Daniel closed his eyes and thought of Corsica.
At his desk, Daniel was far from everything.
The teacher enjoyed her distance; the window taunted its.
Five minutes into recess, the teacher would stand from her papers,
walk out the door, and switch off the light.
Daniel craned his neck to watch the tree in the window.
Robins landed and did not keep their backs to him as the blue jays would.
Laughter carried in to join the sound of the radiator.
When a dog barked, Daniel pictured the old woman.
The cat went missing at home, but his mother bought a dishwasher,
so at least there was one less chore.
Daniel scribbled in his notebooks. Daniel read about the painters of the Renaissance.
Daniel drew shapes in the carpet – of Corsica.
© 2019
The Favoring Wind 