“Ms. Williams, do you have a moment?” I asked my teacher after the first period the next day.
“Yes, Vivi, what’s on your mind?” she asked.
“I had a weird dream last night. Can I tell you about it?”
“Walk with me to the teachers’ room; I’d like some lemon tea. My throat is a bit sore.” She smiled.
“Sure,” I felt warmth in my chest, walking beside my teacher. “I had a funny dream last night about liberating the dogs. We hold them on a leash and program their responses. They are like our slaves.”
“That sounds interesting, Vivi. Would you like to present it to the class and see how they feel?” My teacher asked, reaching the teachers’ room.
“I don’t know if I can. I don’t know anybody.” I lowered my eyes and sighed.
“But that’s a great way to get to know your classmates and, more importantly, for them to know you. You sound very passionate about it. How much time do you need to present it? You don’t need to write a paper; just come to the front of the class, say what you think, and ask their opinion. Would you like to do that? Maybe during the first period tomorrow, so you won’t have too much time to be nervous about it.” She touched my shoulder affectionately.
“Tomorrow?” I gasped, “I guess you’re right. The sooner I deliver it, the less I worry about potential potholes in the conversation.”
“Ok, it’s set then. I’ll let you go now.” She smiled and disappeared behind the glass door.
I went to the yard pensively, rehearsing the points I knew about the dogs when I heard my name.
“Vivi, Vivi!” There was Betty and two other girls I didn’t talk to yet. “Join us.”
“Hi,” I said shily.
“I saw you walking with Ms. Williams. What was that about?” Betty asked, and the two others focused on my face.
I shared the idea for the next day, and they nodded with interest.
“I never thought about that; I’m Millie, by the way,” said one of the girls, laughing self-consciously.
“Hi, Millie,” I smiled at her, “So, what do you think about it now?”
“We have had Bonnie, my dog since I was a toddler. We love her to pieces. I could never think of her as my slave! She’s closer to me than any of you!”
“But I thought I was your best friend!” said the other girl.
“You are, Jamie, but it’s not the same. She’s so familiar. She accepts me in any mood. She sleeps next to my bed. We’re buddies. You Are my best friend.” She grinned and hugged Jamie.
“Well, it seems like a great conversation warmer.” said Betty, “Bring it tomorrow to class, and we’ll see what happens.” She gave me her hand, and we went back to the classroom.
I don’t know what the next lesson was about. I was in my world, thinking about what Jamie said, wondering what they would bring to the conversation the next day. Hearing their opinions sounded more enjoyable than going out there, and liberating dogs were happy and uninteresting in changing their lives. Most dogs I knew had a very comfortable existence. Betty nudged me. “Mr. Thompson has his eyes on you. Pretend to be into what he’s saying.”
I had no idea. Everybody looked like different kinds of dogs to me. Mr. Thompson, with his flat face, could easily pass for a bulldog. A grunt escaped my mouth. That was enough for him to say, “Vivi, I see you’re very involved in the material we’re studying. What are the two countries bordering us?”
I flushed and said, “Sorry, Mr. Thompson, I don’t know, maybe Canada on the North?”
“That is correct, Vivi! And who wants to help Vivi and say the country in the South?”
Many students raised their hands, and I felt stupid for not knowing something so obvious. I’ve been in the States for only six months, but I should have known.
“Yes, Mary?” asked the teacher, the tall girl with glasses who was great at math and obviously in anything else.
“It’s Mexico,” she said triumphantly, smiling at me as if I needed her help. I could use Google and answer that just fine.
“And what language do they speak in Mexico?” asked Mr. Thompson.
“Mexican?” she asked hesitantly. This time I could help her.
“It’s Spanish,” I said without being asked, looking at her with the same smile she sent me.
“That’s correct, Vivi, but please wait till I ask you next time.” Mr. Thompson said and kept on with the lesson.
I went back to my more immediate question. Which dog resembled each of the students? Johnny was a Labrador, loyal and playful. Betty reminded me of a Collie with her intelligent eyes and friendly approach. And I? What dog was I? My mom laughed inside me, “You’re a German Shepherd, responsible and quick on your feet.” I guess she was right. I always felt an affiliation with them. They seemed to be the ones that were the original dogs, closest to the wolves, their ancestors.
“Hey, Vivi,” Betty whispered, “Would you like to visit me after school? I told my mom about you, and she wants to meet you.”
“Will Johnny also come?” I asked, knowing how she felt about him.
She blushed, “I’ll ask him. I never thought of inviting him.”
She wrote a note and asked the boy in front of us to pass it to Johnny, who read it and nodded enthusiastically in our direction.
“Cool,” Betty said, “but we don’t have Pizza. Is that ok?”
“We come for you, Betty, and meet your baby brother, and your mother wanted to meet us.” She calmed and added, “I loved your peanut and jelly sandwich. Will we get some?” We both grinned and turned back to the teacher.
“Ahhhh!” We heard Jamie screaming and jumping up her chair. She pointed under her desk, “A cockroach!”
Other girls joined the hysteria and climbed on their chairs.
“Calm down,” said the teacher in a stressed voice, “please get down. There is no danger.” She sounded a bit frightened herself, not so much of the cockroach as the motion taking place.
Johnny tore a paper from his notebook and crawled where the critter was.
“What are you doing?” Jamie screamed and stepped on her chair.
“I don’t want it to touch me!”
“Oh My God, this is so gross!”
“Step on it, Johnny, just step on that roach.”
I held hands with Betty and danced to the sounds of the racket in the classroom. “This is so much more fun than Math!” Betty was saying with bright eyes. My eyes followed Johnny’s movements. How was he going to get rid of the roach without harming it?
“Children, sit down,” The teacher was waving her hands up and down. There’s no need for excitement. It’s only one tiyn beetle. Johnny will get rid of it.” Her voice drowned amid the scene. Johnny let the roach step on the piece of paper and carried it cautiously to the window when Bob, a boy I had never noticed before, pushed Johnny aside and stepped on the beetle.
I heard the crack in my mind and cringed. There was dead silence in the classroom. Johnny got his bearings and was going to hit Bob, but I ran and stood between them.
“The roach is dead, Johnny.” I pleaded with him, “Starting a fight will only get you in trouble.”
Bob glared to get support, and when he saw he wasn’t getting it, he shrugged and returned to his seat.
I picked up the beetle with a tissue and threw it into the garbage bin to the right of the classroom door. It looked so harmless. How did it gain such a terrible reputation?
“It’s over, kids,” The teacher said in relief, “Thank you, Vivi, for stepping up. Let’s take a few breaths, relax and contemplate what happened. Forget Math. Johnny, Bob, and Jamie faced the roach differently. Who represents you? Johnny, why did you choose to act the way you did?”
Johnny ignored the question and glowed at me with relief. “You saved me from facing the principal. You’re my new superhero!” The tension in the classroom broke, and we all laughed. My face, neck, and ears felt impossibly hot. I didn’t know what to say to him. Instead, I answered the teacher’s query.
“I think people overreact when they see a roach. I don’t know why. I think it’s quite harmless and minds his business, just like us. I wouldn’t kill it. Why did you step on it, Bob?”
Bob said flatly, “It was the right thing to do. Roaches carry diseases. It’s him or us.” His pimpled face looked at me with no malice. For him, it was the sensible thing to do.
Johnny jumped up and said, “That’s ridiculous. Roaches are harmless. A mild stomach ache is the worst if they touch your food. Your fear of them doesn’t make sense.”
Bob jumped up and snarled, “I’m not scared of those little monsters. They are scared of me. Who ended up in the garbage bin? Ah?”
“That’s because you’re a hundred thousand times bigger than they are, but with how we treat other humans, a day will come when roaches will inherit the earth.” That was my voice, and I thought I had nothing to say. The words just poured out of me, and once again, in the last five minutes, I was as red as a ripe tomato.
“Easy for you to say,” exclaimed Jamie, agitated. “I don’t know why, but I feel threatened when I see a roach. It’s not logical, but it feels real. I’m scared of them. It sounds stupid, and I never thought of it before. But I have this reflex, and I don’t think it’s only me.”
Quite a few students nodded in agreement.
“Johnny, what was your reaction to the roach?” asked the teacher.
“I saw a poor little guy surrounded by many human monsters going after him. I felt alone for him, running from one end of the room to the other as a fugitive. I wanted to help him. He was not my enemy. He was an alive creature just like me, with a different appearance. Not that different; feeling scared for his life. I wanted to help him stay alive. He doesn’t carry diseases. He doesn’t threaten me. We can easily live side by side.”
The bell saved us from another conflict, leading to a fight, but we left the class pensive—Roach – friend or foe. Some of us looked at the trash bin on our way out. I wanted to be in their head. Did they change their view of the roach? I don’t know, but I knew I could ask Johnny to help me with the talk tomorrow about the dogs.
“Hey, Johnny, are you coming to Betty’s after school?” I asked him, walking to my sunny spot in the yard.
“Sure,” he grinned, “We’re buddies now. Where you go, I go.” We chuckled. I felt as if I had gained a brother. I wish I had an alfajor to share.
“Johnny,” I said hesitantly, “I had a dream last night that I would liberate dogs of their slavery. I know it sounds ridiculous. Everybody likes dogs, and dogs have a great life, so what is there to set free, right?”
Johnny chuckled, “Right!”
“But are they happy?” I asked, “Would you like to be led on a leash when you go to relieve yourself? Depend on others for your food, shelter, and all your needs? I know we say we love dogs, but I think we mean we love that dogs obey and show affection to us. We relish in their loyalty, but what do they gain? Their nature is all about us. Isn’t it spooky?”
“Vivi,” he said, shaking his head, “You keep pulling the invisible carpet under my feet. Whenever I think I get you, you come with something new from a corner in a round room!” We both laughed.
“What can I say? You win,” He shrugged, “I never thought about it that way. We are selfish in our love of dogs. If they weren’t all about us, we probably would forget to feed and neglect them. We play fetch with them and think they love it, but they love it because we trained them to love it. We compensated them by rubbing their ears and giving them snacks that constipate them. Very few of us know how to be good masters. I’m glad I don’t have pets. I’m very forgetful. What is your plan? I know you enough by now to guess you have a mischievous plan. What is it?”
The sun was touching my neck, and it felt like a distraction. “You saw Bob crushing the roach, thinking he would have a standing ovation.” I turned to him and showed him my best impersonation of an evil smile, “I don’t have a real plan yet, but I want to talk about it in class and see how the other kids respond. My dream will shatter many of their beliefs about people and dogs, or I may be the one changing her mind. I don’t know. Would you like to stand with me before the kids tomorrow?” I gave him my best impersonation of Bambie and Oliver together as one.
“Uh uh,” Johnny shook his crown of curls and said, “This is your dream. I’ll support you from my desk.”
“Good enough,” I smiled. Betty joined us.
“Dogs?” She exclaimed, “I love dogs. My mom says we can’t have a dog because our place is too small, but I haven’t lost hope. I want to adopt a small dog from a shelter. One day I’ll have my will.” She sighed.
“Well,” Johnny said, “This is the point. Vivi will present a different point of view tomorrow in class. But let me not spoil it for you. Wait and see.”
I felt anxious but not anxious enough to go through the whole dream again, so I smiled and nodded, joining my friends on the way to Betty’s house.
Betty lived on a third floor of a huge apartment building. Her mother waved at us from the porch holding her baby brother, and we waved back.
When we exited the elevator, she was waiting for us, “Come in,” she exclaimed. “Thank you for coming. I’ve heard nothing else but your names since the first day of school. You must be Vivi and Johnny!” We laughed and nodded.
“We are,” I said, following her into the tiny apartment. Even though it was small, there was an atmosphere of serenity around it; everything was in its place. There was no clutter. The living room was inviting, but she led us to the kitchen, where a plate of peanut butter jelly sandwiches and grape juice awaited us.
“Wow,” Johnny and I said in tandem, “We were looking forward to having that since Betty shared some with us.”
Betty’s mother blushed and signaled us to sit and dig in. While we stuffed our faces with those yummy sandwiches, she asked us about our interests.