Unsolicited Gift

I jog home, returning from the gym. I worked out for one hour and forty-three minutes officially. There it was. Waiting for me. A small brown package. My entire porch felt eerie. I did not want to touch it. But I leaned down and noticed my full name and address on it. I hated fake mail or scammers. I simply kicked the box with my left foot and preceded into the house. My evening was business as usual. I ate dinner with my wife and two beautiful kids. We talked about their day. It was light, airy, and fun. It felt normal. I love my family. I always enjoy our family meals together. My daughter exclaims, “Daddy you got a gift by the door.” My son energetically says, “Dad has a secret admirer.” We all laughed. Then my wife said, “You have a package addressed to you.” I was creeped out. I asked Who sent it? I was hoping it was a different package. My wife said that she did not know. I feared that it was the exact same package.

The next day, I planned to return the package. I wrote “Return to Sender” with a big red marker. It is not mine and I do not want it. I don’t feel safe with this in my house. I must protect my family from all danger. I dropped it off at the post office and sped off in my red Mustang. I did not look back or second guess my decision. Guess what? Something unimaginable happened. The package appeared on my doorsteps again 2 days later. I regrettably decided to face the music. I slowly opened the unannounced package. I was spooked to death, but I had to get to the bottom of things. I slowly undress the gift.

Although, I was now starring down into this package, it felt dull, empty. Wait a minute. The package is empty. Where is the item? I turned the brown box upside down. And still nothing. Then it happens. A small white note falls out. And it reads, “YOU.” Who is this You? You as in Me? I don’t think so. This feels wrong. Who sees me? Do I have anything to hide? I think that I live my life out in the open. I don’t have anything to hide. I think. Who was watching me? Did someone see me drop it off? I thought I had got this package far away from me. Now I don’t know what to think. Who has a vendetta against me? Now my mind is twirling. Whew. Let me sit down and think.

I taught as a professional educator for 32 years. Could this be a gift from a past student? There is no name or address on the package except mine, this is very weird. I do not feel comfortable with this item. I went outside to gather the morning paper and collect the mail. Low and behold. An old student of mine appeared in the paper. The local newspaper. His article appeared on the front page. I taught him 10 years ago. Turns out he committed suicide. My heart dropped. He was a troubled child. We did not have the best rapport. We had several negative run ins. I wished him the best, but I could not stand him. I was so excited that he graduated from high school and was no longer going to visit the premises. He was hell on wheels everyday he entered the school building. Everyone hated him. Hated him. Well, every adult hated him.

As I recall, some of the teachers were afraid of him. I wasn’t though. He didn’t scare me. I imagined beating his ass every day lol. But I completely understand why teachers were afraid of him. The way the system is set up the student is always right, and the educator is guilty. That ain’t right, so teachers precede with caution. However, he was intelligent, very familiar with the laws and how to maneuver them. He knew that he was untouchable. And he reminded us of this every chance he got. Whew. Boy. I hated that kid. His suicide note read “UOY.” Woosa. This is like the weird note I found. Aha moment. UOY is YOU spelled backwards. Someone may be out to get me. Who is this for? This feels intentional. Did he have me in mind before committing suicide? Does he blame me? Is this a note from beyond the grave? It has such interesting time. How did he plan this all out? Am I next? I hope I am safe. As I reminisce…

I remember we had one BIG blow up. He thought he was going to bully me. NOT. Not today Satan. One day he was cruising the hallways, talking loudly, and bragging about his g.p.a. Turns out he was bragging about having a good grade in a teacher’s class, without even attending her class. He was telling his classmates that she was a soft teacher, and everyone should pass her class with flying colors. He was teasing the educator and bullying her. All the messy, bad students who could fight well were encouraging his behavior. The female teacher down the hall was indeed afraid of him. But I wasn’t. She was in the same category as many teachers in that school, she went along to get along. She tried to keep the peace. But it wasn’t working; her participation backfired.

Most teachers hoped that by ignoring him and allowing him to have his way would make him disrupt school less. But boy were they wrong. It empowered him. It made him worse. It caused him to believe that he was untouchable. And I could not withstand this lying narrative any longer. Something must change. It was so loud, annoying, and obnoxious. I could vividly hear it through my classroom door. The faces of my students started to change. They were disgusted, so was I. And my students began to complain. Then it happened. I had made the decision to put a stop to the madness. I chose to open the door. Even though, it was no of my business; I made it my business.

I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. And there he was. My arch nemesis. He was laughing hysterically. I can still hear that laugh in head today. It was that memorable. I softly asked him to come to my classroom door. I whispered this, but it was loud enough to be heard over his obnoxious antics. He yelled “Who, Me?” He said let me see what this clown wants and then he approaches me slowly. I simply request for him to keep the noise down, return to class, and follow the schoolwide directions. He got crazy.

His friends were hyping him up. He said, “This man tripping asking me to go to class. I run these halls.” They were falling out on the floor laughing at me. I didn’t care. Someone had to stand up to him. In this moment it was me. I left my classroom door cracked, at this point my students were taking up space. They were supporting me. They stood in the doorway. He felt that peace, supportive energy. He experienced love. The love that they had for their teacher. He could not compete with that. So, he bagged off. Turns out he did not get attention or love at home. So, he was the man at school but was a scarred little boy at home. It was all a façade. This is the kind of love he wished that he was getting at home. In that exact moment, he and I knew what everyone else was afraid to admit. That he was the pathetic.

So, I took one step back, looked into his dark pasty eyes and proclaimed, “You are a L-O-S-E-R!!!” “You come to school like you the man and got it all figured out. But at home yo momma don’t love you and yo daddy touches you. You ain’t nothing and you ain’t never gonna amount to nothing just like yo family. Everyone hates you in this school. When you finally graduate, instead of celebrating your achievement, we will celebrate never seeing yo pale empty face again. You are an embarrassment to your entire family. These years in high school are your glory years. Enjoy them cuz they won’t last forever. You’re the man now. But popularity fades. After high school, reality will kick you in the face hard. Because you didn’t listen to any of the adults in your life trying to help you. You will regret this day. You suck. Your life will suck. You will fail miserably. You are a failure. Everyone else is better off without You. Get outta my face.”

The whole hallway stood still. The students in my room gasped. His eyes lit up; he had never had anybody step up to him before. And his poor sensitive ears, had never heard such harsh truth. He slowly steps back and whispers, “You’re coo-coo.” He cowardly fled the scene. He never spoke to me again after that day. He was the ultimate bully. He did not bully me anymore. The bullying for others continued though. It was only rumored that he thought I was a cold teacher. That’s how I remember that interaction going. And here we are today.

I reckon he sent the note to tell me that he’s been thinking about me, I am one of the reasons he made the decision that he did. Well. That hurts. Most people never want to see someone they know die. I guess his message is indirectly saying I am responsible for his death. And man, that hits different. I don’t like the way this makes me feel. I always dreamed of him straightening up his life. He had so much potential; he just chose to operate in it the wrong way. Even though, I hated him, I never wanted this to happen, secretly, I always believed in him. I just wanted the torment to stop. Part of me deeply hoped that my harsh words navigated him in the right direction. Unfortunately, that never happened. This is a sad story. I hope this isn’t true and this is all in my head. Man, I might be bugging. This is insane, this young man died so soon. If any of my words had an affect this way, I am remorseful. Totally. Truly. I’m headed to bed now if I can sleep. I can’t even phantom the man I am now. Dang!

I hope this package is a joke and means absolutely nothing. How can I live with myself now. Who is this man in the mirror? I see him stare back at me, but I don’t recognize those eyes. Then I find out a drone mysteriously delivered the package to my doorsteps. This is wild. OMG. What will the police think? What will they do if this information gets out? This town will never let me live this down. Who else knows that this package is in my possession? My wife? The kids? Will they say something? Was this a part of his dark humor? Is he even dead? Is this some kind of joke? Is this package even mine? It had my name on it, but does it belong to me? I have so many questions and zero answers.

Only time will tell…