The Burden Of Love (Jonathan Toews)

Hands .52

Emilia

Schooling in Chicago is like taking a big leap of faith. I know my place in these schools is minimal for I only teach thirty kids at a time. Kindness doesn't spread as fast as hate does and going against the odds is all I know. But sometimes... sometimes I have to go out of the box in order to help someone.

It was lunch time and I was headed to the teachers lounge to warm up leftovers from dinner last night. I fixed us some pulled pork and mashed potatoes since Jonny insists that we don't eat the bread if we don't have to. It was honestly a good suggestion because you can taste more of the spices in the pulled pork when combined with the potatoes.

As I round the corner to the office I pass up the cafeteria. Say hi to some of the kids and notice a kid by the exit doors sitting by himself. So I walk over to make sure he had someone to go in there and sit with. It's still early in the school year so some kids might not have found their place in all of this chaos. I wanted at least for them to have a place where he feels safe.

Right before I get to the little boy he reaches in his backpack. I figured his lunch was in there and keep walking towards him. But my feet come to a screeching halt when the kid pull out a gun. Now I don't know much about guns but in Chicago I would be a fool not to know a handgun when I see it.

Immediately my brain tries to figure out the best course of action. Do I run? Do I try and take it from him? Do I pull the fire alarm? So many possible outcomes but which one is the right one?

In a panic I slowly approach him not wanting him to make up his mind already or freak and accidentally pull the trigger. Telling from the way he looked at the gun I don't actually believe he wanted to hurt anyone. But a gun in the hands of someone who doesn't know what to do with it is just as dangerous as it being in the hands of someone that does.

"You know what my favorite thing about the human body" I ask softly as I sit down on the floor next to him. He looks up at me and there was nothing but fear in his eyes. This wasn't the face of a murderer. This was the face of a scared little boy who didn't know what else to do. "It's the hands," I tell him. "The hands are responsible for creating all that we have. We build families, we build the sky scrapers that surround this city. We create our lives and everything in it with our own two hands.

But if we use our hands to hold things that destroy instead of create, that's exactly what will happen. With the same hands we created a good life for us we can also destroy it. And we can destroy the life of others just as easy. I truly don't believe that's what you want.

What do you want to do create with your hands" I ask him.

A tear hits his cheek as his eyes return to the gun. "I want to create a life where I'm not scared to wake up" he whispers.

"Then give me the gun and your hands will be free. You can create that life and anything else. But if you use that here today any chance to use your hands for anything else will be gone because they will be cuffed behind your back for the rest of your life" I say.

He nods his head as he hands me the gun. I place it behind me and pull the kid into my arms. He sobs for a while and I try to give him some peace. Peace he would never know if he even fired off a bullet.

I take him to the security office and get the gun to one of the police officers on duty in this school. He talks to the guidance counselor while I debrief principle Johnson. The school goes on lock down to check the rest of the kids bags. It's not that hard to pick up a gun off the table at home and we hadn't had a incident for a while. Luckily everyone else is clean and the kids get to go home early while they contact the kids parents and get them in for questioning. We send out a email explaining what happened and assuring everyone the problem was stopped. Of course the news was all over this but there wasn't much to tell. It was over with before it eve started.

Once Ken and Jasmine was with me again I get them home. I find Jon waiting by the door arms wide open. The kids run into his arms as they pull him close. I texted him while I was talking to the police officer to let him know what was going on and that they're okay.

"Why don't you guys go get changed for the game tonight and we can go get insomnia cookies beforehand huh" he asks the kids.

"Okay" they cheer as they take off to their rooms.

Jon slowly gets up and turns to me. I couldn't read his expression if my life depended on it.

"Emmy have you lost your fucking mind" Jonny whisper yells as soon as he is sure the doors were closed.

"No not really" I defend.

"The security cam footage of you talking to that kid and getting the gun from him is already all over the news. People are calling me asking if they can talk to you. And while I am happy that the kid had the kindness in his heart to listen to you all that I can see in my head is if it didn't turn out the way you planned.

You went up against a kid with a gun with what? Intelligence? Faith? How is that going to protect you" he asks.

"He is just a kid Jon. I don't think he's pulled a trigger before. The gun was on safety anyways, if he decided to shoot it wouldn't have gone off" I say.

"That's not the point Em. You're not a cop, this is their job" he sighs.

"The cops weren't there, I was. And kids in that situation don't need a cop. They need someone to listen to them. They need compassion and a sense of calm. How do you think they're going to react when someone shows up in bullet proof everything pointing a gun at their face when they're sitting there unprotected? Of course that kid would have freaked out and probably would have been shot. Kids like him don't exactly get a warning. It's on sight and if anyone else would have found him he would be pulled out of that school in the body bag. I was in a position to de-escalate so I did" I argue.

"You're not a fucking cop Emmy. That was a incredibly reckless thing to do. I'm not going to lose you because you put your trust in these kids who go through hell when they're at home in hopes the hell doesn't follow them to school. They might not believe they have anything to lose but I... I could lose everything" he whispers.

I pull him to the couch and make him sit next to me. I lace my fingers through his as I pull his hand into my lap. "I'm sorry that I scared you. And I'm sorry that this situation wasn't handled in the best way possible. But I will not apologize for doing what I knew deep down was what that kid needed. And that was a shoulder to cry on" I insist.

"What do you think would happen if you were killed? What would happen to every single kid you've ever taught? You teach them that this world isn't awful, but it is. And if something would have happened to you all that hope, all that faith you put into the world would be gone. That school would just be another statistic people use to explain why Chicago is a poorly educated city" he claims.

"I'm not teaching these kids that the world isn't dangerous. I'm teaching them that with each decision comes a different kind of danger. No matter the outcome of that kid bringing a gun to school it was a dangerous one. Now other kids know they can get into school with one if you hide it well enough. He's damned if he does shoot and damned if he doesn't.

But now the kids say there is a better option than violence. No one needs to lose a life for a point to be made. And that little boy can now pick up the pieces and move forward since he's getting help" I insist.

"What did you tell him to get him to give you the gun" he wonders.

"That we have two hands capable of creating a wonderful life, and he couldn't do that if his hands were on that gun" I say.

He just nods his head before finally loookinf me in the eye. "I'm sorry I freaked. I just, I don't want to lose you" he insists.

"I'm not going anywhere. My hands are creating my life too. And I'm doing it with you" I promise.