Lost&Found: Chapter 10: Reiners Confession

My Literature teacher, Mr Reiner, was as stereotypical of a new teacher as you could get; with the exception that he wasn't a new teacher, and had actually been in the profession for twenty years.

He appeared to be fifteen years younger than he actually was, and had the deceptively clueless look of a man just out of university, with a cut-with-a-pair-of-kitchen-scissors type of hairstyle, a layer of stubble around his neck and thick round glasses.

He had a specially reserved collection of ties. Bright colours meant it was a special occasion, red usually meant he was feeling optimistic or spontaneous, and the thin black tie meant he wasn't in the mood for our usual antics.

The brilliance of him was that he spoke to us as a teacher, not as a figure of authority. He put everything in a blunt and practical way that we, being both young and restless, idolised. He made sense, and held nothing back. In humanities we talked about ethics, rights and revolutions.

Once in a lesson based around old slave trade and modern trafficking he swore in front of the class when talking about the concept of the barely-innocent bystanders. It was strangely empowering. As the youth of a world that seemed to be restrictive to us, Mr Reiner introduced the means to display passion even in a classroom setting. It was a simple thing, but at that age it meant a lot to us.

I say this in hindsight. Back then, he was still just a teacher, he gave us homework, and when we didn’t do it he gave us detentions.

‘Alright guys,’ he announced after the bell had rung one Wednesday afternoon. ‘When have I got you next?’

‘Friday sir.’

‘Friday, I’ll see you and your completed assignments then, except Leon, I’ll see you now.’ A few people glanced back. I knew. It was going to be another talk of honest concern for my wellbeing. He wasn’t the first one. I picked up my bag, pulled a smile, and prepared to go into that zone in which I only pay attention enough to repeat back what has been said if needed.

I should have known better with Mr Reiner though.

‘Yes sir?’ I asked.

‘You’ve changed.’ He said. He was cleaning the chalkboard with an old polishing cloth.

‘How so, sir?’

‘Person to person?’ He regarded me closely. I nodded. He finished cleaning the board and sat down on his desk. ‘I used to think you a wasted cause.’

I wasn’t expecting that. He saw right through my change in expression as I perked up to listen. ‘Sure, you have the grades, but let’s face it Leon, you're a twit sometimes.

‘Not so much now. You’re a little more considerate than you used to be. You fool around less, and aren’t as disruptive to your classmates. I commend you. But - your grades are slipping, and if you continue to turn up late and fall asleep during my lessons there will be consequences to pay.

‘Now, is there anything you want to tell me?’

‘Like what sir?’

‘If your situation is too personal I can understand.’ He leant forward and put his elbows on his knees. I took this as a sign that the conversation wouldn’t be over soon, and shifted up to sit on the desk opposite him, giving him a falsely attentive expression that he didn’t at all seem to be humoured by.

‘Listen, late nights, glassy eyes, smelling of baby soap? Or was it shampoo? From what I hear there’s a little lady in your life. I wouldn’t dare entertain the idea that she might be your own, but I do wonder how someone who can’t even commit to a single courtship would end up caring for a child.’

I laughed a little under my breath and answered sarcastically, ‘thanks.’

‘It’s the truth, take it as a compliment. A level-headed boy doesn’t take on huge commitments when he’s still got his studies to worry about - but the trouble is Leon, so have I. You’re a grown lad and able to handle your own troubles, so I won’t go down that road, but if you ask for help I won’t turn you away.’

‘It’s fine sir.’

‘It’s not fine! Consider this your first warning, if your performance continues to decline I will have to take additional measures.’

He reached into his shirt pocket and took out a card that had been sitting in his top pocket all day. ‘I want you to take this. Now, can I talk to you as an adult?’

‘Alright.’

‘When my wife died…’

Bang.

That simple phrase alone took me by surprise. It told me something huge: that he was human. It had never occurred to me that he even had a family or a past. That kind of thing doesn‘t occur to you when you‘re staring at your high school teacher. Even if he was just another man he would have been one of the last people I imagined to have such a secret lying at the back of his closet.

When I looked again to the dark shell in his eyes, the pieces started to fit together.

‘I was left to take care of my two sons on my own. They were young then, these days they’re old enough to take care of me. When I was looking after them I found that going at it alone was impossible. So, I joined a group for single parents. There were parents there who resorted to alcohol, there was a woman who split up with her husband because she was a lesbian. You are a playboy. Myself, I was angry. Always so angry, and I found that unintentionally I was passing that anger on to my sons. We all have our weaknesses and short fallings, that’s why we can’t survive on our own.'

He leant forward further and regarded me closely. ‘The thing with groups like these is that they accept you for who you are. Everyone is united through the same pain. The group I joined has since moved or disbanded after I left, but here is one that a friend of mine runs up in the Julie’s Centre on East Road. It’s a good place to get your thoughts out, and to be among people who know what you’re going through. You won’t find that with the kids you hang around with, can you?'

I shook my head slowly. Once he acknowledged that he'd gotten his point across he continued. ‘Now that’s enough for my talk, I didn‘t keep you behind to tell you my life story. Take that card and get lost.’ He ruffled his hair. By now he was looking flushed. I stood up to walk out the door, but then turned back.

I know I tell lies, and pretend a lot. I know most of my personality was fake and contemplated. It took a big step out of my comfort zone to ask a question I genuinely wanted to know the answer to. ‘What is your life story sir?’

Not that I was interested in his life, but rather, I was interested in the experience of someone who I could adopt as a mentor, someone who was better than myself.

‘My life story,’ he laughed and ruffled his hair again. It was his nervous habit. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Your wife, what was she like?’

Why was I asking? Maybe I just wanted to hear something sentimental, so I didn’t feel like such a fool. He looked at me in a way he hadn’t before, as if he was looking at a friend. I knew he would never view me as a friend, Mr Reiner was overly keen on that distinct student/teacher relationship, but for a moment he was willing to confide in me.

‘Beautiful,’ was his final answer. ‘Her, and my sons, all beautiful. She had a gentle voice, and liked to study.’

‘What did she study?’

‘History. She was training to become a university lecturer. She was in her last year of her teacher training when she got cancer. Even in her deathbed…’ Despite the way he held his head up and his shoulders back, the way he always did, he couldn’t hide the tears that made his eyes turn pink and his voice waver. ‘She was so pale, but still, so beautiful.’

Before that day I didn’t know empathy could hurt so much. I took a deep breath and nodded, in acknowledgement of his pain more than anything else.

‘Now,’ he blinked away the tears. ‘I think that’s enough of our meeting.’ He said it with the tone of a teacher. ‘I must ask you to leave.’

‘Yes sir,’ I smiled lightly. When I stood up I patted him on the shoulder, allowing myself to forget where we were for a moment. ‘In honesty, sir, I think you’d make a good father.’

He didn’t respond, only flicked his head and ruffled his hair back one last time. I left the room and went downstairs, where the chill of early spring came was much welcomed.

Just for the record, Mr Reiner and I didn’t become friends. We socialised a little more, and occasionally talked about our home lives, but he always remained in his status as a teacher.

I mention this because there are many people in my life who did become more to me than expected. Some of those people were welcome, some not. Some would to make the days a little brighter and easier, and some would reveal parts of myself that I never wished to see.