Karma by Diane Godfrey-Doherty (ebook reader macos .TXT) 📕

like sisters would be. I often thought Ally would make a great sister. As I continued to day dream and stare at our temporary new teacher standing at the front of the classroom the day just seemed to fly by. It wasn’t until the lunch bell rang that I was snapped out of my day dream state. At that time I noticed Mr. Doucette was standing in front of my desk looking strangely at me. I looked up and noticed he was looking down at me. I couldn’t say a word. But I didn’t have to wait long before he spoke. As he sat in the desk in front of me he turned and said “Ms. Lea, where has your mind been wandering off to”? I kind of stopped thinking when he said Ms. Lea, I mean no one calls me Ms Lea. Oh boy what was going to happen now? I thought. “You seem a little off this morning Ms Lea are you alright”? He finished. “Umm yep! Peachy” was all I said. “You must have a lot on your mind then Ms. Lea because we missed you in class today”. “Huh? I was here” I replied. “No, that’s not what I meant”. “Your body was here alright but your mind certainly wasn’t.” “Can you explain to me Ms. Lea what’s going on in your head that took you away from class?” Why did he keep calling me Ms Lea? My name is Karma. Well Karma Lea but I didn’t like the Ms. Lea thing. Why can’t he just call me Karma? Well he was very odd in the way he talked to the class. He always was using Mister or Miss and then our last names. He would say yes miss to the girls or yes sir to the boys if we got a question right. He also had a very thick accent and it was hard to understand him if he talked to fast. Danny Ferguson always was asking him to repeat what he said. So Mr. Doucette just began to talk slower and it was much better. I’m not sure where Mr. Doucette was from but I could tell he wasn’t from Canada. He told us stories during quiet reading time about a place called South Africa, the place where he used to live. He shared stories of his family and his sisters that still live there, taking care of his mother and their home. He told us that one day he would tell us more about himself but for now he wanted to get to know all of us. I hoped he was going to stay for a long time but I knew that would be wishful thinking.
Soon Ms Avery would be back and things would go back to normal. I learned really quick not to get my hopes up. I always hated the disappointment.

Chapter 12


It turned out that Mr. Doucette stayed with us for the entire week and he told us today that he would be returning on Monday to continue to fill in for Ms Avery. This news made me very happy on one hand, but worried for Ms Avery on the other. What could be wrong with her? Even though she was always mad at me I never did hate her or anything like that. I really hoped she would be OK and would be back to school soon. But not too soon cause I really wanted to spend more time getting to know Mr. Doucette. I wanted to hear more of his stories of the places he had visited in the world and his family who lived in South Africa. I’m going to go home and look up on a map the city he told us where he was from, during geography class. I’m glad he wrote it on the chalk board because I would have no idea how to spell it at all. I copied it down in my school writing book. Also Mr. Doucette spoke about a man named Nelson Mandela. He is an important man in South Africa. He is fighting for the rights of all the people who live there, especially black people, he told us. Since Mr. Doucette has been teaching us, he has been putting a quote of the day, as he called it on the black board, everyday. The quote was something that Nelson Mandela has said or did. Mr. Doucette hoped that it would inspire us to do great things.
Today’s quote was “The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.” I thought about that all day. Because it was written on the blackboard I found myself staring at it, thinking of each word. At first it sounded like a riddle, but after some time the message was clear to me. I could fall, but the greatest glories were in getting back up again and keep going. I could do that, I thought to myself as I left for the day.
I headed out the side doors and the sun was shining. I could feel and hear the early signs of spring in the neighborhood peaking up from the muddy ground. With the sounds of the birds chirping I could help but hum my favorite tune. Really the only tune I knew by heart, Silent Night. Even though it wasn’t Christmas the melody was calming and soothing to me. My Momma told me that when she would rock me to sleep when I was a baby, silent night was the only melody that would put me to sleep every time. So I guess now it’s burned in my mind now after hearing it so often. As I continued to walk down Confederation Street which leads to my house I got tired of humming that mellow tune. I was feeling much more upbeat. I wanted to dance, skip and jump home and I wanted an upbeat tune drumming in my head. As songs flipped through my head like a radio I wasn’t watching what I was doing or where I was walking to well. I didn’t see the girl leaning her back up against the fence that leads to the path to my house until it was too late. A boy sat on the curb right beside her. Oh no! I thought as I stopped about five yards short of them. My legs wouldn’t move any more. My eyes fixed on her. Then the boy turns to point at me to tell her I was there. She slowly turned to face me. It felt like minutes until our eyes met even though it was only seconds. Was this the same girl who beat me up when I was in grade 2 I thought? And was that the same boy? No way, can’t be. I didn’t move. I didn’t dare move.
Well, well, well the girl began to chant look what pulled itself out of the gutter Neb! The girl said when she looked at me. Oh no I thought, the boy did look familiar but I just wasn’t sure if it was the same boy or if I thought it was because I was in the same place it had happened before. My sister Jen didn’t feel she needed to walk me home anymore. Since years past and we never did see those bullies again. I grew more confident in myself as the years past and I grew older. To be honest I just thought those kids moved on to more grown up things since they were much older than me when I was in grade 2. Now they looked like they were in high school, with their pimpled faces. I never did see them at West Park so I was really sure they must have gone to another school to begin with.
Awh! The boy jerked his head up and grunted. Oh who cares Taylor, don’t be such a bitch! No one cares about that ugly little black thing. I still couldn’t move. I was terrified right to my core. Oh yes they do Neb daaarrling she drawled with her tone. I do! And I’ll be a bitch if I want to be a bitch. Especially to that on she said as she flung her head my way. So you took the wrong way home? She asked me. I didn’t reply, I couldn’t reply! I’m talking to you nigger, she bellowed at me after a long silence. She pronounced the end of the word strangely sounding like air instead of er. She was taking big strides slowly but strongly towards me. I prepared myself, ready for the unknown. The painful memories returned from that afternoon four years ago. But I had time to think since then. Think about what I would do if I were ever going to be confronted with this situation again. I was as sure as I could be that I would fight back next time. Because I knew there would be more next times. Are you gonna just stand there you little piece of shit? Or are you gonna show me what a coward you are a run away? Hmm, she added. At that moment, as I saw her getting closer to me, saying all those mean things in a frightening tone. I realized she wasn’t really that scary at all. She was all makeup with the black eyeliner caked around her eyes thicker than lipstick which made her look scary. She was thin and wore jeans way to tight and a leather jacket that you would see most bikers wear. And the steel toe men’s boots topped off the outfit of scary perfectly. I don’t know whether or not it was that I have grown up and have experienced more cruelty and meanness since grade 2 or whether I could see right through the fake person she was putting on the outside. Even though I was scared to death and stood glued to the ground I knew she was a phony and I didn’t want to run. I wanted to get past that fake person. I just didn’t know how I would do that. She just kept coming closer. Soon she was just about four inches from my face. I could feel her warm breath on my face as she just stood in front of me. Waiting, seconds past and I wondered what she was waiting for. Did she think I was going to hit her or something? Maybe she expected me to run away. But I didn’t move. My feet felt cemented to the sidewalk. It was part fear and part determination not to run away like a coward. I was going to face this head on I thought. WELL! She yelled at me. Go on run, run your little scared ass out of here. Go cry to your mommy she continued. For some reason at that moment the pain and the anger of having my class laughing and pointing at me when I was released from the time out’s Mrs. Chapman would put me in, hit me like a ton of bricks. The day when she forgot I was in there for so long and I wet my pants for all the class to see. My anger began to boil and I exploded. It was like I was no longer me. This person who took over was full of anger and hatred. It was so fast I couldn’t control it and I didn’t have time to realize what I would do next. As this girl Taylor or whatever her name really was, stood in front of me breathing her yucky smoke filled breath in my face, looking as if she was so powerful over me and probably would be to many others. Then the thought crossed