I Bought You Ice Cream!

When you spent a good part of your life working with junior high students, you end up with stories. I'm going to share one of my favorites, told many times, but never in writing. 

I was working in my office, about an hour after dismissal when I received a phone call from the transportation department requesting an administrator at the bus loading zone. When I arrived, I found the driver standing outside of the bus with two angry young ladies (twins) on his right, and a somber young man on his left. The young man, Johnny (not his actual name), looked a bit disheveled and was on the verge of tears.

The bus driver gave a brief explanation. "This one," pointing to Johnny, "punched one of the sisters, and these two," motioning toward the girls, "beat him up."  

As we walked to the office, I confirmed that the driver's "to the point" summary was essentially accurate. As Johnny boarded the bus and headed down the aisle, he took the opportunity to slug one of the sisters in the arm for no apparent reason other than he was a teenage boy. It is unlikely that he suspected the girl's sister to jump over several bus seats and join forces with her twin to pummel him for his poor decision. As we walked, I chastised Johnny (who was not unfamiliar to me) for hitting a fellow student in the first place, let alone that his target was a girl. He offered up little in the way of explanation, except a few sniffles and a shoulder shrug. I suspect this is because it was evident he came out on the losing end of the altercation. It was getting late, so I decided the best course of action was to get the kids home and sort the situation out the following morning.

Johnny was in my office the next day where he was afforded "due process" and given the opportunity to explain his side of the story. As mentioned, he and I knew each other well. This is not always a bad thing, but in this case Johnny was likely wishing for a bit less familiarity. Prior offenses were likely going to cause this issue to rise to the level of a suspension. He settled into a seat in the hallway near my office with an understanding that he wouldn't be going to class today and began working on some assignments that had been sent for him.

The hours passed and about forty-five minutes prior to dismissal I began to feel a bit sorry for Johnny. He had been working in the office hallway most of the day with only short breaks to eat lunch, get a drink and use the restroom. I asked him if he would like to walk with me out to the school garden. As we stretched our legs, we discussed various odds and ends and avoided the topic of the young man's involvement in this humiliating incident. Johnny was a likable kid, but junior high boys are often known for their lack of judgement. It was a forgivable offense.

After a brief visit to the garden we found ourselves near the cafeteria where an ice cream vending machine had recently been installed. It was one of those fancy contraptions where a vacuum hose sucks your selected treat from an icy box. Don't ask me how, or why, this would be installed on a junior high campus. I queried Johnny about his interest in an afternoon ice cream treat. He indicated he would like this very much. I purchased two ice cream bars and we both watched with fascination as the frozen treats were retrieved by the vacuum hose and deposited in the bin near the bottom of the machine. Johnny thanked me for the ice cream and I took some measure of satisfaction in knowing that while I had made it evident I did not appreciate his behavior, Johnny also seemed to be warming to the idea that my concern was with his actions, not with him.

As we approached the office, Johnny made what seemed like a reasonable request.

"Mr. Delp, could we get my scooter out of the bike rack before dismissal? I don't have a lock for it and if I'm not there at dismissal, some of my friends sometimes take it and hide it."

It made sense to me, so I suggested he purchase a lock and asked for a description of said scooter. "White with neon green wheels," Johnny replied.

We found the scooter as described. Johnny being a fairly little guy, I handed him my ice cream bar and flopped his scooter over my shoulder and carried it to the administration building. I placed the scooter in a corner of my office, letting Johnny know that I had to attend to another matter on campus at the end of the day. I gave instructions that when the bell rang, he was allowed to retrieve his scooter from my office and go home. He nodded in affirmation and we parted ways.

Approximately ten minutes after the dismissal bell rang, I heard our security guard attempting to reach the school resource officer (SRO) over the two-way radio. I ignored this call the first two times it was made, but responded on the third.

"Hey Larry, this is Jeff. Anything I can help with?"

"Yeh, maybe," Larry responded. "I have a father up in the office with his son. Says the kids scooter was stolen today." 

It took just a few seconds for the alarm bells to begin ringing in my head. I felt a knot rising from the pit of my stomach, making its way into my throat.

"Uh...Larry, will you ask for a description of the scooter?" 

Pause. 

I knew the response before it crackled across my radio.

"White scooter with green wheels."

By this time, my face was flushed red from anger and embarrassment. I asked our security guard to get the student and parent information and made a beeline for my office. I frantically called Johnny's mother who assured me that although she was at work, her high school son would intercept Johnny at their home and confiscate the stolen scooter.

About fifteen minutes had passed when my school resource officer and I pulled up to Johnny's home in a neighborhood trailer park. I was relieved to see Johnny's brother standing outside holding the white scooter with green wheels. He handed it over, indicating that Johnny had bolted as soon as he was confronted. 

As we made our way out of the trailer park, I asked the officer to circle a few times in the squad car as I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Johnny. 

Bingo. There he was, just ahead of us -- on a scooter! For a moment, I thought he was going to run, but when the SRO hit a short blast on the siren, he apparently decided it would be better to make his stand in front of witnesses. I remember stepping out of the squad car, but honestly, everything else is a blur. I was vaguely aware of neighbors watching me, a tall guy in a shirt and tie, wagging his finger and dressing down a little kid. Something about a stolen scooter.

The only thing I can actually remember saying to Johnny was, "I bought you ice cream!" 

A few things that stemmed from this day's events. First, I received a copy of security camera footage of me carrying the stolen scooter out of the bike rack, Johnny trailing with two ice cream bars in hand. This evidence was sent via email to a number of colleagues. Mr. Delp stealing a student's scooter was a story that would not go away. 

"Hey Jeff, remember that time you stole a kid's scooter?" As if I would forget.

Second, I'm guessing Johnny ended up spending more time outside of my office, but I know for a fact, I never bought him another ice cream.