Derailed

Wednesday, September 9th was a good day.

I talked to my buddy Pete first thing in the morning. We got caught up on the goings-on in each other's lives. This only takes a couple of seconds-there isn't much going on. But, it's still great to hear his grumpy voice.

Then, I talked to my bff, Ron, while I headed south to Chambersburg. I hadn't been to the "Yarn Basket" in at least a year if not longer.  I wanted to reaquaint myself with the lovely little shop as well as look for the fiber for the cute little spring jacket I have been thinking about.

Ron and I had one of our off-the-walls conversations where we go from one strange topic to another in a stream of conscience sort of way; laughing most of the time.

At the yarn shop I found orange sock yarn for Jake (don't ask), some purple-ish sock yarn for me, and the sweetest alpaca yarn in pastels that just screams (ok, it whispers) spring.

I made my way back home with my newly acquired treasure and shortly after I arrived the nice day ran off the rails.

I'm not talking a glitch. Or an inconvience. No minor setbacks here.  I'm talking blood and guts, smoke and flames spewing, get the medic kind of this-aint-gonna-fix-itself and it-aint-gonna-be-pretty disaster.  The kind where years later you still remember where you were and what you were doing when you heard the news.

Addison and Max came in the house together. On this otherwise lovely Wednesday. In the middle of the day. Silently.

Max had been suspended. And made to clean out his locker. And was now waiting to find out if he would be allowed to return to the school.  Ever.

My uninspired, unmotivated, unenthusiastic, ADD-challenged 16 year old had (with a couple of his buddies) signed himself out of study hall and gone to "the cove" (an area at the bottom of the stair well decorated with fish and furnished with a bench and a desk) to study. He got bored.  He played with a broken lighter.  When it finally lit (to his surprise) he used it to light the corner of a piece of paper on fire.  He blew it out in the same instant.  A teacher walked through and saw the corner of the paper still glowing.  A jackass of a teacher who doesn't particularly like Max.  He got caught.

He got written up.  He was later yanked  out of lunch by the Head of the Upper School and told, "I want you out of my school". Addison was called at work.  Max cleaned out his locker.

So, they were home.  On that beautiful Wednesday in September. Max sat at the dining room table with his head hung down in shame and bewilderment.  Addison sat in the living room with his head in his hands fighting back the tears of anger and disbelief.

I didn't know what to think. What to say?  What to do?