Mr. Roberts was a bit of a hero to us, not to the whole school, but to myself, and to a small group of students that clung to his words. The other students joked that we were an antiPROPHETIC cult, but this was not so far from the truth.
He taught history, that was how he met us.
------------------DONT FORGET TO IRON THIS OUT------------------------
These classes varied in official topics, but the real topics never changed: The crimes of our god and government. We learned about the real Custer, the Vietnam war, even The Crusades.
I think that the crusades were what finally pushed him over the line. He had never taught anyone about them before, in fact, he had only learned of them by chance. The book that we had learned out of had been dusty and rotted. About a third of the pages had stuck together, and there was a large stain on it that he could only grin nervously and say he was "pretty sure" wasn't blood. He had taken a week long vacation before he brought it in, and after he had returned, he limped just slightly for about a month.
We liked Mr. Roberts.
He was so much cooler than the other teachers.
Whenever pressed for comment on him, the other teachers would simply look as concerned as they could for us and say to not take anything he said to literally. When I first came to Millo High, they had joked about him being a little crazy. Now they muttered mournfully about it, though none of them felt the least bit of sorrow at his passing. As far as they were concerned, he had broken the law, and that was what one got for breaking the law.
With Mr. Roberts gone, we did not even know how to define ourselves. We had no books, no places, no clique names, in fact, we didn't even really know each others names. We had nothing binding us together, so we just slipped apart. He had gone in March, and by June, we no longer spoke to each other.
With no more summer nights out on his porch, and no more friendly girls afterwards, I had nothing left in Madison, so when my parents made their annual bid to enroll in a summer camp, I agreed. After recovering from the shock of my reversal, as I had always been in love with summers at home, they sent me to a place called God's Country. I quickly regretted my lack of resistance.
He taught history, that was how he met us.
------------------DONT FORGET TO IRON THIS OUT------------------------
These classes varied in official topics, but the real topics never changed: The crimes of our god and government. We learned about the real Custer, the Vietnam war, even The Crusades.
I think that the crusades were what finally pushed him over the line. He had never taught anyone about them before, in fact, he had only learned of them by chance. The book that we had learned out of had been dusty and rotted. About a third of the pages had stuck together, and there was a large stain on it that he could only grin nervously and say he was "pretty sure" wasn't blood. He had taken a week long vacation before he brought it in, and after he had returned, he limped just slightly for about a month.
We liked Mr. Roberts.
He was so much cooler than the other teachers.
Whenever pressed for comment on him, the other teachers would simply look as concerned as they could for us and say to not take anything he said to literally. When I first came to Millo High, they had joked about him being a little crazy. Now they muttered mournfully about it, though none of them felt the least bit of sorrow at his passing. As far as they were concerned, he had broken the law, and that was what one got for breaking the law.
With Mr. Roberts gone, we did not even know how to define ourselves. We had no books, no places, no clique names, in fact, we didn't even really know each others names. We had nothing binding us together, so we just slipped apart. He had gone in March, and by June, we no longer spoke to each other.
With no more summer nights out on his porch, and no more friendly girls afterwards, I had nothing left in Madison, so when my parents made their annual bid to enroll in a summer camp, I agreed. After recovering from the shock of my reversal, as I had always been in love with summers at home, they sent me to a place called God's Country. I quickly regretted my lack of resistance.
