Jawbreakers and Buckshot (Cont.)
Screen 2 of 3About a week later, still remernbering how good that juicy roast beef sandwich tasted, I decided to try to get another one just as I had gotten the first. But I didn't have a jawbreaker, and even if I could have obtained one, I knew I could not bear to swallow it. I still had not forgotten that sharp pain in my throat, caused by that large piece of hard candy. So I made up a story after I had seen a boy on the playground playing with some buckshot. A friend of his said they were "B.B's," used as ammunition for air guns, but I did not agree. They were just like the small metal buckshot I had seen in shot gun shells owned by my uncle. Whatever they were, I asked the boy to let me hold some of them in my hand. He gave me a few and after I rolled them around in the palm of one hand, I put a few in my mouth, quickly discovering they were round, smooth, cool and rather heavy. It was then I decided upon my plan, but I said nothing to the boys about it.
When recess was almost over, I went to my mother's classroom and told her I had swallowed some buckshot. This of course was not true, but my hunger and anticipation of getting to eat another juicy sandwich apparently were stronger and more compelling at the moment than was any moral consideration.
"Swallowed buckshot!" she exclaimed.
"That's right," I answered as I pretended to be in some pain. "The buckshot were in my mouth, and some of them accidentally went down my throat." Even while I was talking I was wondering how I could tell my good mother such a falsehood; but I continued to unfold my plan, nevertheless.
"I guess I better go to see Tom and get some hot water," I continued with such excitement that I suddenly straightened up as though I was no longer "in pain." I never found out if I was actually fooling my mother, but this is how she answered my suggestion about going to see Tom.
"Oh, no, not that," she countered with emphasis. "Hot water won't help. You'll have to go to a doctor immediately:"
With this I was about ready to correct my story and admit I had not really swallowed any buckshot, but then quickly decided to let the fabrication stand, when I realized how angry my mother would be if she knew I had lied to her. I was beginning to feel like a common criminal, just getting deeper and deeper into trouble. Anyway, a visit to the doctor would not be so bad, I thought. In that way, I would miss my arithmetic class taught by the only student teacher I didn't like.
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