Hearts and bubble gum

 He rubbed his hand across the old desk, something he picked up on trash night decades ago. When he got it home and into his workshop, he felt like he'd gone back in time to the days of innocence and puppy love. Dozens of initials were carved into the top, as well as crudely gouged hearts that appeared to have been made with a nail or screw. On the underside were dozens of dried-up pieces of gum probably stuck on in a hurry as a teacher was fast approaching, holding out her hand where she expected you to spit in it, but you were faster than her and claimed a spot under the desk—imagined what each piece tasted like, maybe bubblegum flavored or Spearmint, Juicy Fruit or pin stripe, one of his favorites. I wondered just how many pieces there were under the desks, and when I estimated the number of desks in every classroom at every grade level, I came up with 75 desks, with a dozen pieces of gum under each desk, for a total of 900 pieces of gum. No wonder the janitor didn't smile very much. Every classroom had a show-off who would stick a jawbreaker bubble gum in his mouth, trying his best to chew the entire thing and blow the world's biggest bubble. With purple ooze running from the corners of his mouth, he spotted the teacher coming his way. Hence, he had to act fast as he slammed the wad under his desk, and that solved the mystery of a select few wads the size of a small apple.

I remember on summer break the maintenance people would attempt to sand down the tops of the desks, all 75 of them. Still, they never finished before summer ended, so when school started up again, some kids got a clean slate and christened them with hearts and initials as their predecessors did in years past. The desks became like time machines, telling stories with every heart gouged into the wood, some leading to everlasting love, some lasting forever. I suppose almost everything back in the day, like defacing desks, was just how life was. It took guts to cover up what you were doing, holding a book over the spot you were carving and watching for any sign you'd get busted and sent to see the principal.
I didn't sand down that desk I found at the curb. I dusted it off and put it in my youngest son's room. A few days later, I looked in on him as he did his homework and noticed he had plastered stickers all over the top of the desk. Maybe someday his kid will inherit the desk, peel off those stickers, and replace them with whatever's popular then. One thing is certain: I bet wads of gum will still be discarded on the underside when parents are heard coming towards their kids' room.

Mike  2026                                                      

Mike  2026