Take Care of Business

            When my son Jonathan started school in Idaho City, Idaho, he was like the runt of the litter.  He was small in stature and wiry like me.  He was quiet and well mannered, unlike me.  I was a lucky father knowing I would never go through with Jon the rowdiness my parents went through with me.  Having grown up spending my summers on the streets of the North Side in Boston, I was a strong candidate for Reform School before I started going to school.  To me, “I double dog dare you” was the same as some redneck yelling, “Hey! Watch this y’all!”

            We lived almost one mile off the main road from the school bus stop.  Jonathan’s little Border Collie, Josie, used to wait for him every day at the bus stop and the two of them used to walk home together.  I loved watching them come over the hill and run together down to the ranch house.  It was their time together and they loved it.  It was truly one of those, ‘boy and his dog’ memories.

            I knew Jon’s first year of school would go well.  I went over all the rules with him about being polite and respectful, not being disruptive in class, and the big one…no fighting with the other kids on the school grounds or in school.  I was a very proud single parent of this saintly child.

            He had a nice looking, blonde, blue eyed Mormon teacher named Miss Biddle who wore no makeup at all.  She dressed rather plainly in her gingham dresses buttoned all the way up to the top and carried herself in a rather matronly manner but you could see she was rather timid.  Jonathan seemed to like her a lot.

            About three weeks into the school year I noticed a change in Jonathan.  When he came home after school he was visibly nervous and at times looked as if he’d been crying.  He’d always assure me everything was okay if I asked if there was anything wrong at school.

            I was sitting on the picnic table one day behind the ranch house and watched as he came down the hill with Josie.  She was running and bounding and Jon was just dragging himself along at a slow pace.  As he got closer he looked up and saw me.  Without hesitation he came over as I stood up and hugged my legs.

            I lifted him up into my arms and he broke down in tears.

            “What’s the matter, Jon?  Why are you crying?  What happened?” I asked, very concerned.

            “I’m having trouble with some of the guys at school,” he replied.  “They’re in the second or third grade.”

            I sat him on the table top, handed him my handkerchief, and he blew his nose.

            “What kind of trouble are you having, Jon?”

            “They beat me up with rocks, sticks and the big guy uses a short piece of a 2 x 4,” he answered.

            “You don’t look like you’ve been beat up.  Where have they been hitting you,” I asked.

            Jonathan got down from the picnic table and removed his jacket, pants, sweatshirt, and tee shirt.  Everything was off except his tiny little Star Wars briefs.

            “Here, here, here, here, here, here, and here,” he said pointing to each bruise and black and blue mark.

            “Oh…and here.  This is a new one from today,” he said as he dropped his underwear and bent over, “mooning” me to display the bruises.

            “Jesus Christ, Jonathan!  Stay right there a minute,” I told him as I went to get the Polaroid camera.

            “Stand still while I take these pictures.  I’ll get to the bottom of this tomorrow,” I said.

            When I finished taking the pictures Jonathan got dressed and broke down crying again.  I held him quietly until he calmed down.  He was visibly shaken and traumatized by the actions of these boys the last few weeks.  We went inside the house as the chilly early evening air started to set in.

            After dinner I decided to talk to him more about the incidents.

            “Are you okay to talk now,” I asked.

            “Yeah,” he said quietly.

            “Have you told any of your teachers about these incidents?” I asked, trying to hide my anger.

            “Yes.  I told Miss Biddle.  I told the two playground monitors and I told Mr. Williams, the assistant principle,” Jon answered.

            “What did they say?”

            “They said they couldn’t do anything because they didn’t see anything happen.”

            “Really,” I replied with a bit of surprise.

            “Yup,” Jonathan answered calmly.

            “Did you do anything to defend yourself?” I asked.

            Jonathan sat in silence looking at the fire in the fireplace for a minute or so.

            “Well?” I asked.  “What did you do?”

            He looked up at me with tears in his eyes.  I wanted to pick him up but I didn’t.  I wanted him to answer me with no prodding.  I guess I wanted him to grow a little.

            “You told me never to fight in school, no matter what.  You told me to tell a teacher if I ever had trouble.  Well, I did what you said but they didn’t do anything,” he explained now sobbing.

            I took a deep breath and held my arms out to him then lifted him into my lap, hugging him.

            “We’ll take care of this tomorrow, Jonathan.  I promise.  We’ll take care of this tomorrow,” I told him as the anger built inside me.

*    *    *

            Bright and early the next morning Jonathan and I showed up at school at seven o’clock.  I walked in the front door and was greeted by the principal, Bob Carlson.  I told him all that had happened with Jonathan and I wanted a meeting with Jon’s teacher, the two playground monitors, and his assistant, immediately.  I also told him I wanted the school nurse present.  Fifteen minutes later we were all seated in the principal’s office.

            “I knew nothing of what I heard of these incidents until fifteen minutes ago,” Bob Carlson started.  “Quite frankly I’m appalled and concerned.  I’m going to let Jonathan’s father, Ron Karcz, explain everything.  I’m going to take notes.”

            “So am I,” I said as I placed a small Panasonic cassette recorder on the principal’s desk and hit the record button and started to speak.  “My name is Ron Karcz.  Jonathan Matthew Karcz is my son.  It’s approximately eight a.m. on October 21, 1977.  I’m in Principal Bob Carlson’s office with Mr. Carlson, Mr. Williams, Miss Biddle, Jon’s teacher, two playground monitors Jim Edwards and Teri Billet, school nurse Roni Williams, and my son Jonathan Karcz.

            “I’m going to make this short and to the point.  For the last three weeks my son has been harassed, intimidated, and physically beaten by two boys, Donnie Ellis and Bobby Lee Dalton, Jr., who are in the second or third grade. 

            “These incidents happened during school hours while on the school playground at recess and while at lunch.  Jonathan told me you all were told of what happened but you did nothing to assist him and told him if you didn’t see anything you couldn’t do anything.  I can appreciate your position because if you didn’t see it happen there really is nothing you could do except question the kids involved.

            “What I find ludicrous is, you didn’t even check to see if he was okay.  Nobody bothered to see if he was injured in any way.”

            “Excuse me Mr. Karcz.  He appeared to be fine and there were no visible injuries,” the monitor, Jim Edwards said.

            “Really,” I said.  “Well, perhaps you can explain these pictures.”

            I took the twelve pictures of Jonathan’s injuries out of an envelope and laid them neatly in a row on Bob Carlson’s desk.

            “Why don’t you all come up and take a look at these.  You too, Bob.  After you’ve examined them maybe someone can explain why Jonathan wasn’t even checked over by the school nurse when he complained.”

            Everyone came up to the desk and passed by the pictures in silence.  Miss Biddle was the last and examined them closely while the others had taken their seats.

            “How do we know these injuries happened at school, Mr. Karcz?” Jonathan’s teacher, Lynn Biddle asked, coldly.  “How do we know these injuries didn’t happen at home or were inflicted by you as corporal punishment? 

            “I have already notified Child Protective Service about Jonathan’s less than proper home life and you’ll be hearing from them,” she arrogantly stated to me.

            A stone cold silence came over the room.  I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly and turned to the nurse.

            “Miss Williams.  Will you take Jonathan out of the room and bring him to your office, please?”

            Without saying a word the nurse took Jonathan by the hand and led him out of the office, closing the door behind her.      Miss Biddle was still standing at the desk looking at the pictures then turned and saw me staring at her.  She knew I was angry and nervously adjusted her dress pulling it down and smoothing it over her body.

            “ ‘Less than proper home life’, Miss Biddle?  Who the fuck do you think you are you self righteous little Mormon bitch, talking to me that way,” I snapped and took a couple of steps towards her.

            She gasped and the monitors stood up as Bob Carlson rose from his seat.

            “Ron, please calm down,” Bob Carlson pleaded and reached for the recorder.

            “Don’t touch the recorder, Bob.  I want it to run,” I said as I gathered up all the pictures and placed them back in the envelope.

            “I’m going to leave here in a few minutes and take Jonathan to a doctor.  Then I’m going to Superintendent Grogan’s office with this tape, these pictures, and the doctor’s report concerning Jon’s injuries.  After that, I’ll be seeing my attorney about filing a lawsuit against each one of you individually, the school, the school district, and a special charge of libel for you Miss Biddle.

            “My son will not be in school until at least next Monday.  That ought to give you all enough time to get your ducks in a row.

            “I never thought I would ever say anything like this because I’ve never held with a ‘frontier justice’ mentality.  However, I’m going to lift the restriction from Jon about fighting at school.  If you won’t look after him and see to his well being, I am going to allow him to defend himself and let the chips fall where they may.  If frontier justice is what you want then that’s what you’ll have.  My son will not be attacked without defending himself!

            “I find this incident and your lack of action, appalling and reprehensible.

            “Thanks for your time.  This meeting is over,” I said as I hit the stop button on the recorder, picked it up and walked to the nurse’s office to get Jonathan.

*    *    *

            The doctor was concerned about Jonathan’s injuries, especially the one on his sore ribs.  He felt there was possibly a cracked rib.  Jonathan was admitted into the hospital for overnight observation and x-rays.

            While I was in town I called my girlfriend, Kate and asked if she wouldn’t mind looking in on Jon.  After explaining everything she was more than happy to do what I needed.  Jon loved her and Kate loved him.  I could see we were going to have company at the ranch for a few days and over the weekend.

            I called Superintendent Grogan’s office and made an appointment for right after lunch.  After hearing my story he called the hospital and advised them to hold the billing as he felt the county may be picking up the medical expenses.

            He also assured me at the very least there would be letters of reprimand going into Miss Biddle’s file along with the two monitors and assistant principal.  As I had another set, I left all the pictures with him.

            My attorney was appalled and was going to take the case against the school.  He advised me probably nothing would happen and the school would quietly take responsibility for any medical costs incurred and he’d be paid for his services.  He would send a strong letter to Miss Biddle but wanted me to think about suing her for libel.  It could get lengthy, sticky, and costly, he advised me.

            The next night Jonathan, Kate and I were having dinner at the ranch.  Jon’s x-rays showed no broken bones and the doctor told me he’d be fine in a few days.  We were celebrating and Jonathan was happy because he just adored Kate and knowing she was going to be around for a while suited him just fine.  There is nothing like the love of a woman to soothe a child.

            After dinner and when the cleanup was done we went into the living room.  Jon sat between Kate and me on the sofa.

            “Jon, are you going to be worried about going to school on Monday?” I asked.

            “A little,” he answered.  “What do I do if those guys bother me again?”

            I looked at Kate and then at Jon.

            “Here’s the way it is.  I still don’t want you fighting at school or on the school grounds but if these guys ever threaten you or start their crap again I don’t want you to feel like you have to run and I certainly don’t want you to let them hammer on you.”

            “Well, what do you want me to do, Dad?”

            “I want you to ask them nicely, two times, to stop bothering you.  If they don’t stop after politely asking them to stop twice, feel free to take care of business.”

            “Take care of business?” Jonathan asked.

            “Yup.  Take care of business.  Just defend yourself.  I’ll never discipline you for defending yourself.  Do whatever it takes to keep from getting hurt.  Kick their asses if you think you can but make a lot of noise so those playground monitors hear you.  I don’t want any question about them not seeing anything the next time.  Do you understand me?”

            “Yes, I do Dad,” he replied.

            “I love you Jonathan.  I don’t want you to start anything but you don’t have to put up with being bullied or beaten and you don’t have to take this kind of crap from anybody, anytime, anywhere.”

*    *    *

            By the time Saturday rolled around I had received a letter from Superintendent Grogan advising me the County would take care of the medical expenses for Jonathan and advised me letters of reprimand had been placed in everyone’s files.  He further advised me the two boys had been suspended from school for three days starting Monday.

            There was a separate letter from Jonathan’s teacher, Lynn Biddle, apologizing for her “uncalled for and insensitive remarks and her meddling” about me possibly being the perpetrator of Jon’s injuries and for calling CPS.  To this day I still have that letter.

*    *    *

            Three weeks later I received a phone call from Jonathan’s principle, Bob Carlson.

            “Hi Ron, this is Bob Carlson at Jon’s school,” he said.

            “Hi Bob.  What’s up?”

            “I need you to come up to school.  I’ve got Jonathan in my office.”

            “Is he okay?” I asked

            “Yes, he is but I need you to come up here.  I don’t want to go into this on the phone,” Carlson said.

            “I’ll be there in about a half hour,” I said.

            When I arrived I walked through the door to see Jonathan sitting in a chair with his leg crossed like a seasoned veteran of the principal’s office.  On the other side of the room were two young boys.  One had his head bandaged…one had his arm in a sling…and they both had blackened eyes.  Behind each boy stood their father and these men were big loggers.  One I recognized.

            “Hi Bobby Lee.  How are you,” I said.

            “Pretty good Ronnie.  Sorry ‘bout this mess,” he said as he spit his Copenhagen into a Dixie cup he was holding.

            “Jonathan had a run in with the boys earlier today,” the principal said. 

            “What happened?” I asked.

            “It seems the boys didn’t learn their lesson from their three day suspension.  During the morning recess these guys started bullying Jonathan,” Carlson said.

            “Jonathan doesn’t look any worse for wear,” I commented.  “Are you okay Jon?”

            “Yes sir,” he replied with his legs still crossed.

            “Well, what happened?” I asked glancing over at the two boys who didn’t look too happy at all and did look the worse for wear.

            “Jonathan, go ahead and tell your dad what happened,” the principal said.

            “Donnie threw a rock at me.  Bobby Lee hit me with a piece of 2 x 4,” Jonathan calmly explained.  “I did what you told me to do.  I asked them twice not to do that to me.  Then they came at me and I picked up a bat.  I dodged away from them and ran for the gate at the back of the playground where Gold Creek runs and I ran up Gold Creek a little ways.

            “When the guys started to catch up to me I jumped up on a small boulder.  Donnie caught me first and I swung the bat and hit him on the arm.  He lost his balance and fell on a rock and hit his head.  That’s why he’s got a bandage on his head.

            “Then Bobby Lee charged at me and tried to punch me in the face.  He missed and I jumped on him and we landed in the creek.  When he tried to get out of the water he slipped and I jumped on top of him, bent his arm back, and started hitting him. I spun him over on his back and kept hitting him in the face.  I guess that’s how he got his black eyes and his arm hurt.

            “Donnie got up and was dancing around pretending to be boxing me.  He was yelling at me and telling me he was gonna kill me.  When he took a swing at me he missed and fell on his stomach.  I jumped on top of him and turned him over and started punching him in the face.

            “They were sitting on the ground and saying they were gonna tell on me.  I told them not to ever touch me again and then I ran back to the playground and got Mr. Carlson.  He called the EMS people and they took care of the guys.  I’ve been with Mr. Carlson since all this happened.  He’s been trying to call you since lunch time.”

            Jonathan finished talking.  He wasn’t mad, scared, or upset.  He was deliberate and very matter of fact about the whole incident.

            “Are you done?” I asked trying to remain composed.

            “Yes sir,” he answered.  “I didn’t do anything wrong Dad.  I did what you told me to do.  I didn’t start anything and I didn’t fight on the school grounds, either.  They chased me.  You told me to ‘take care of business’ and I did.”

            I was stunned.  I didn’t know this side of my son’s makeup and didn’t know whether to be proud of him for standing up for himself or to give him hell for doing it.

            Donnie Ellis yelped as his father smacked the back of his head and said, “You guys ganged up on this little fella?  Get your ass out that door.  You’re gonna get a little more learnin’ when we get home.”

            Big Don looked back at the principal and asked, “How many days off is he gettin’?”

            Carlson held up five fingers and said, “They both get five days suspension except for Jonathan.  He doesn’t get anything.”

            “Why no time off for Jon?” I asked, surprised.

            Bob Carlson smiled and said, “He didn’t really do anything to break school rules, Ron.  As a matter of fact he ran to get away from the trouble.  I can’t do anything to him.  When all this happened he wasn’t even on school property.”

            The ride home was a little quiet at first until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

            “You baited them didn’t you?  You made them chase you off the school grounds.  You little shit,” I said with a smile and shaking my head.

            Jonathan said nothing but he had an impish grin on his face as he looked out the window.

            The whole incident wasn’t exactly what I’d envisioned when I gave him the advice I did.  Frankly, I never thought it would happen.  However, what I saw happen was a little boy grow up, face a challenge, and accept responsibility for his actions.  I was proud of his courage and proud of him as a person.

            From that day on, Jonathan was never bothered at school by anyone.  He was well liked and popular with all the students.  He wasn’t a bully and always took up for the underdog if there was a problem.  His fellow classmates seemed to look up to him as a leader.  I chose to believe it was simply because it was understood, Jonathan knew how to take care of business.

The End