Written by Goldie Randolph
Chapter 1
"All we are saying, is give peace a chance." I softly sang as my principal, Mr. McCracker, lectured me about the evils of rock & roll. I was caught wearing my favorite John Lennon t-shirt, and apparently that’s against the rules at my small Christian school. "I did some research on him during lunch, Goldie, I could barely read an article without learning about his rampant drug abuse or seeing naked pictures of him and that Yoko whatever-her-name-is."
I smiled as the Two Virgins cover popped into my head.
"I do not find you amusing!" McCracker screamed.
"That’s because you have no sense of humor." I laughed again.
Mr. McCracker sighed and dropped into his expensive leather chair. "All right, let's hear it."
"All the stuff you said about him was true. John did drugs, posed nude, and sang about not believing in God, but the good things he did outweighs all of that by a long-shot." I said calmly.
"Such as?" he asked unconvinced.
"Such as," I repeated in the same patronizing tone he had used, "his campaign for peace! He tried to stop the war!" The volume of my voice was steadily rising and now I was almost shouting.
"Anti-war activist were just a bunch of lazy drug addicts, who were to scared to fight!" he yelled.
. "You hypocrite!" I screamed. "You sit there and preach about how wrong it is to abort 40 million babies, but then you justify the murder of a whole generation of young people! You fucking hypocritical bastard!" I didn’t give him a chance to expel me for my language. I stormed out of his office and slammed the door behind me. As I headed towards the exit, I heard him call my name.
"Fuck you!" I said without turning around. I reached the door, and suddenly realized I had left my stuff downstairs in my locker. I dashed downstairs and grabbed my jacket, backpack, and sunglasses. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, so I decided I should go out the back way so that I didn’t have to deal with Mr. McCracker again, plus it was closer to my car. I jumped into my black, ’65 Mustang convertible and pulled my keys out of my coat pocket. Just as I was about to pull out of the parking lot, McCracker tapped on my window.
I rolled down the window and turned up the stereo. Thankfully, I had put the White Album in my CD player that morning and now "Helter Skelter" was blaring through my speakers. I pulled off my sunglasses, and winked at Mr. McCracker. Before he could say a word I sped off down the street, flipping him the bird through my window.
"God, what an asshole! I don’t know why I’ve put up with his shit for so damn long!" I said to myself.
I turned down the stereo after a while and took out my cell phone. "Better call Mom before he does." I sighed to myself. I dialed her number and waited for her to pick up.
"Hello." she answered cheerfully.
"Hey, Mom."
"Goldie? Why aren’t you in school?" she asked, concern creeping into her normally cheery voice.
"I think I’ve been kicked out, and I just thought I’d call you before McCracker gets a chance too."
"Oh, what’s he done now?" Mom laughed.
"Let’s have lunch, and I’ll tell you all about it." I suggested.
"Alright."
"Meet me at Margo’s in half an hour, ok?"
"Ok, sweetie, see you there."
I hung up my phone and smiled. I’m lucky to have such an understanding mom. I thought.
I arrived at the restaurant half an hour later and spotted my mom’s mop of curly gray hair over the top of her favorite booth. "Hi, Mom!"
"Oh, hi, sweetie." Mom replied
I sighed as I sat down across from her.
"Care to tell me why you’re suspended?" she asked.
"Suspended? Didn’t I tell you I thought I was expelled?" I asked confused.
"Yes, but Mr. McCracker called me and informed me that you were only suspended."
"Did he tell you why?" I asked nervously.
"No, I told him that you were on your way here to tell me, and I wanted to hear your side of the story first." She said with a smile.
"Thanks, Mom. " I laughed. "So, would you like to hear the story?" I asked. Mom nodded, and I began.
"Well it all started at lunchtime…….."
"I was walking down the hall, to my locker, to get my lunch and I found Mr. McCrack-head going through my locker.
" You’re not going to find any drugs, McCracker, perhaps you should try your desk." I said sarcastically.
"Good, because I’m not looking for drugs." he said in his horrid nasal voice.
"Just what are you looking for then?" I asked impatiently.
"These." he answered pointing to the Beatles pictures plastered all over the inside of my locker.
"Yeah, the Beatles, they’re a great band, you should check them out." I smiled as I grabbed my lunch from the inside of my open locker.
Mr. McCracker grabbed my arm. "I assure you that will never happen, Miss Randolph." he screeched. I was just about to come back with another smart-ass comment, but McCracker interrupted my thoughts.
"What is that?" he screeched again, pointing at my chest.
"Those are what we call breasts, Mr. McCracker, now I know you probably haven’t seen any up close, but if you go see the school nurse she could help you out with that."
"N-n-not those, that, on your t-shirt." he screamed.
"Oh that!" I laughed. "Well, that would be John Winston Lennon, my hero."
"I know who he is, but why are you wearing that here?" He was turning all red.
"Would you rather I didn’t wear a shirt?" I asked.
"To my office, Miss Randolph." he shouted.
"Sorry, sir, you’re a little too old for me." I joked.
He grabbed my arm again and pulled my up the stairs and into his office.
"Sit." he instructed.
"I’d rather stand." My humor was starting to wear thin because I knew he was about to begin tearing into John’s character.
"That t-shirt has no business being worn in this school!" he screamed hysterically. I stared at him blankly. "Would you like to know why?" he asked a moment later.
"Oh do enlighten me, oh wise one." My sarcasm had turned dry.
Mr. McCracker then started in with his famous speech about the evils of rock & roll, and then he gets down on John about the peace thing, and justified the Vietnam War, and I called him a fucking hypocritical bastard."
I looked up at my mom to see her reaction. She was grinning ear to ear.
"That’s my girl!" I smiled.
"Thanks, Mom."
"So, just what do you plan to do with the free week you’ve acquired?" Mom asked.
"Mope around the house, and cry a lot." I answered.
"Why?" she asked.
"Well you know what tomorrow is, don’t you?"
"Tomorrow?" she repeated. I sighed at my mom’s lack of memory.
"It’s the 20th anniversary, Mom."
"Oh that’s right. Wow, I didn’t realize, John’s been gone for 20 years. Seems like just yesterday." She said almost to herself.
"Yeah, well it’s time for my annual day of bawling my eyes out." I said remembering December 8, 1999. I cried for 10 hours straight that day.
"Well, hun, it looks like you’ll be doing your crying alone. I’m taking your dad, and your brother to Mershanda’s for the week."
"That’s ok, Mom, it’s better that I’m alone, that way I don’t drag everyone else down."