A Thousand Cuts

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We didn’t get on. So what? It wasn’t a secret. It’s hardly a crime. Turns out I had him down pretty good, wouldn’t you say?

Physical education, since you ask. I have a degree in sport and leisure studies from the University of Loughborough. It’s the best course of its kind in the country. Tough to get on. Even tougher to complete. Hardest damn thing I’ve ever done and I used to compete. Triathlons, Ironman, marathons sometimes. My knees put me out. My knees and my ankle.

Physical education: it’s a science. When we were at school it meant a cross-country run in our underwear. A game of rugby for the boys, hockey for the girls. No discipline, no organisation and no specialisation. Our headmaster used to take us. He would chuck us out a football and sit refereeing from the window of his office. Refereeing. Hah. He used to read the paper. He would look up if he heard a holler but otherwise he left us to it. When you fouled someone you had to foul them quietly. You had to wind them so they couldn’t yell.

There’s something to be said for it. The Darwinian approach to sport. You know Darwin, right? But you wouldn’t get away with that now. Like I say, it’s a science these days. It’s become a science. We teach them sportsmanship and skills – transferable skills, we call them – and nutrition and stuff like that. Just last week we had an hour on callisthenics. I can never say that word. Callisthenics. Callisthenics.

People assume it must be easy. There’s a lot of prejudice that surrounds my job. Szajkowski, he’s a perfect example.

We have a week, before the start of term. The headmaster’s there and all the teachers are there and we have to do this training, attend these sessions. It’s bullshit most of it, a waste of time. But part of it is a social thing. You know, everyone getting reacquainted, meeting the newbies, that sort of thing.

Anyway. So there were two new teachers last term. One of them’s Matilda Moore, she teaches chemistry. Quiet girl but nice enough. Not much into sport but she’s not ignorant about it. She’s not arrogant. The other one of course is Sam Szajkowski. Sam ‘Call me Samuel’ Szajkowski.

So it’s the end of the day and we’re in the hall and the headmaster’s laid on a spread. You know, sandwiches with their crusts chopped off, mini sausage rolls, crisps. We’re drinking wine or fruit juice or whatever and everyone’s having a nice enough time. The headmaster’s standing here, Matilda’s over there, we’re all dotted about in groups. All a bit low key for my tastes, not particularly lively, but you just get on with it, don’t you?

So I see Szajkowski on his own and though the headmaster has introduced him to everyone, I haven’t said hello myself. So I do. He’s new here, I’m thinking. The guy’s on his own. I should make an effort to make him feel welcome.

Now I realise me and him aren’t exactly alike. He’s about half my size and pasty and he looks a bit like Woody Allen but with a scraggly black beard and without the glasses and not as old or into sex. Or maybe he was, who the fuck knows? But just because we’re not alike doesn’t mean we can’t get on. Like George. George Roth. He teaches RE and we’re about the least similar people you can imagine. I mean, I’ve never set foot in a church, let alone a mosque or a temple or a Jew hall, but we get on well enough, we get along. We talk about football and he tells me football is a type of religion and I don’t suppose he’s wrong. Which would make Pelé God, right? Or Matt Le Tissier, depending on where you’re from.

But Szajkowski: right away we’re on the wrong foot. I say hi and pleased to meet you. I tell him my name and tell him to call me TJ, because everyone else does, even the kids.

He says, hello TJ. I’m Samuel. Samuel Szajkowski.

Samuel, I say. So Sam, is it? I guess people call you Sam?

And he gives this little shake of his head and kind of smiles and says, no, they call me Samuel.

And his handshake. Did I mention his handshake? You can tell a lot about a man from his handshake. You can tell a lot about a woman too. Like you. You’ve got a firm shake, a strong grip. That tells me what. It tells me that you’re a woman in a man’s job and that you can’t afford to take any shit. You’ve got cold hands, though, did you know that? It’s roasting in here but you’ve got cold hands.

Szajkowski’s grip was as limp as his… I mean, it was a faggot’s handshake. That’s just an expression, by the way. It’s not derogatory. You know exactly what I mean, don’t you? It was like this. Here, hold out your hand. Just hold it out. So I’m Szajkowski and I do this.

You see what I mean?

So after that he’s kind of got my back up already but I don’t show it. I’m just thinking what I’m thinking about the bloke and I’m thinking, you never know I might be wrong. Turns out I wasn’t, didn’t it, but that’s another story.

So I stick with it, I say, okay, Samuel. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Samuel.

Jesus Christ though. I mean, who calls themselves Samuel when that’s their name? It takes so bloody long. Sam. I would have liked the guy a whole lot better if he’d just let me call him Sam.

I’m sorry but that kind of thing just pisses me off.

Where was I?

Right. So we’re chatting and it gets to the point where he asks me what I teach. And I just know right away that he’s gonna have some attitude about it when I tell him. I mean, with him you can tell just by looking at him that he’s never run a yard or kicked a ball or even taken his top off in the sun in the whole of his entire life. He’s what my old man would have called an intellectual, which is fine, it’s not a crime, but it seems to me that he’s also a foot and a half up his own arse.

So maybe I get a bit defensive. Not aggressive or anything but I’m thinking, what right has he got to feel superior? And I think, okay, let’s see. How about a little test? And rather than tell him, I decide to let him guess.

You tell me, I say.

Sorry, he says, acting all confused.

Go on, have a guess. What do you think I teach?

Oh. I see. Let’s see.

And I’m watching him and I’m smiling and he’s smiling and we both know that he knows but he’s afraid to say.

Well, if I had to guess…

Go on, I say. Just have a guess.

If I had to guess…

Just say it. You know. I know you know.

If I had to guess, I would say… No, I’m going to go for… Yes. That’s it. TJ, you teach physics.

Cunt.

I mean, excuse the French, but seriously, what a cunt. I should have thumped him one right there. And he looked like he expected me to, that’s the thing. Looked like he almost wanted me to. My face, he must have been able to tell, but he didn’t flinch. He watched me, still sort of smiling, like he was just waiting for me to twat him.

But I take a breath. I put down my glass of OJ. I edge forwards a little, just a little, and I say to him, I say, are you trying to be funny?

And he’s all, no, no, I didn’t mean anything by it, but he did, we both know he did.

I say, listen, Sam. I call him Sam, just to make a point. I say, listen, Sam. Don’t get smart. Don’t get above yourself. I’ve been teaching five, six years. You’ve been teaching, how many? I hold up a fist – you know, zero fingers – but also it’s a fist, which is the second point I’m making. And you’d think he’d get it, wouldn’t you? The point, I mean. You’d think he’d get it. But guess what he says next. Go on, have a guess.

Latin, he says. You teach Latin, don’t you.

I tell you, if it wasn’t for Bartholomew Travis that would have been the end of Sam-Samuel Szajkowski right there. And look what trouble it would have saved.

He was watching, I suppose. I spoke to Travis yesterday and that was the first thing he said to me, he said, I knew it, I knew there was something wrong with that boy. Said he’s had his eye on Szajkowski from the start but I don’t know about that. He certainly wasn’t watching him at the end, was he? But maybe he was at the beginning and maybe that’s why he saw our little tête on tête and maybe that’s why he got to us in time to rescue Szajkowski’s face.

I raised my voice at that point. Possibly I swore. Nothing bad. Not the c-word. Maybe the f-word. But like I said to the rest of them afterwards, he was the aggressive one, not me.

What’s going on here? says Travis. What’s all this fuss?

And Sam Szajkowski starts bleating, starts playing the gentle lamb. Headmaster, he says, I’m not sure what I said but clearly I’ve caused TJ here some offence.

And I’m like, fucking right you’ve caused me some offence you little cocksucker, you know perfectly well what you said.

And Travis is like, calm down, Terence. He calls me Terence. I’ve asked him not to but he still does. So he’s like, calm down, Terence, and, what did you say, Samuel? And he’s like, I don’t know, Headmaster, I don’t know.

And then they look at me and I’m still about ready to punch someone and the headmaster asks me instead. What did he say, Terence? What did he say to cause you such offence?

And obviously this has worked out pretty well for Szajkowski because now I’m the one who’s going to look like the knob. He’s watching me and he’s not smiling but I know that, just below the surface, he is. And what can I do but answer because when Travis asks you a question you have to answer, you just do. I mean the kids are terrified of him and us teachers, well. I mean, I’m not scared of anyone but let’s just say there’s a reason that Travis is headmaster.

So I tell him. I say, it’s not what he said, Headmaster. It’s the way he said it.

The way he said what? says Travis. What did he say?

He said… He said I taught physics, Headmaster. He said I teach Latin.

And Travis looks at me like I’m some kind of retard, like I’m that kid with special needs in class C. I try to explain and I say to Szajkowski, you know what you meant by it, you know exactly what you meant by it, don’t try and act all innocent.

Everyone’s watching by now of course. Not that I’m worried, I mean they know me these people, they know the kind of person I am. They know exactly what’s going on, I’m certain of it. Except for Maggie. She’s looking at me like I’m a pubic hair in her cornflakes. And you know what pisses me off? This whole little episode: it’s what got the two of them going. That’s what pisses me off. She felt sorry for him, Maggie did. All the stuff that followed, their little romance, all of it was bullshit because all of it was based on a lie. Szajkowski’s lie.

And that was that really. The headmaster, he says maybe I’ve had enough to drink and I say, I’m drinking orange juice, I’m drinking fucking orange juice, and the headmaster says, yes, well, nevertheless, and mutters some crap about sugar. And he leads me away. And I leave.

So that was it. That was the first time me and Szajkowski met. After that, things just kind of went downhill.