"But, how will I know if he's a good man?"

Shit! Shit! Shit! I'm late for my second period English class. It's way out back in the portables near the ravine. I do my infamous combination of run/walk/shuffle down the hallways -- I don't want to get sent to the Principal's office. I mad-dash when the coast is clear; put on full brakes, and walk when class room doors are open; and shuffle on the backs of my heels when there is a chance that a teacher may turn around a corner. Run. Walk. Shuffle. Run. Walk. Shuffle. I have about thirty seconds to make it before the second bell rings and I'm toast.

I'm through the doors now, racing past the football field and towards the back lot. Run. Run. Run. Of course, today would be the day that I wear my t-shirt that changes colour according to body heat. I streak past the other portables with a yellow chest and purple back, red underarms and green shoulders. I'm a mess. My banana bag barely holds all my books.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Up the portable steps. I reach for the door --and; the bell rings. The dragon lady English Teacher inside is going to have a field day with this. I brace myself for the worst as I step inside...and see...the most miraculous of all sights. The only thing that can really bring a smile of true happiness to my other-wise sullen 15 year old persona: The Supply Teacher.

Yee haw! I slip into my seat and exchange happy smiles with the other 30 or so students in the class. A supply teacher! There really is a God!

We're in the middle of de-constructing The Chrysalids and I figure that we'll have some sort of essay to write, or something. It doesn't matter. 50 whole minutes without the Dragon Lady is good enough for me. I have her for drama as well; which means I am so outta here when that 5th period class rolls around. Mall anyone?

He hands out a multiple choice quiz. I'm done in 5 minutes. Could this day get any better? Then one by one we all are done. And we wait for what is next. Minutes roll by. He just stares at us. We stare back, slightly confused. Is there something we're missing? A boy puts up his hand and asks him what we're suppose to do.

"You can go", he says.

Did I just hear right? We can go? Huh?

"You can go, you've done your quiz. Your teacher didn't leave me anything else for you -- so unless you want to sit here and chat with me -- you can go". And they split. In an instant the portable is less 21 people. I stay because I'm not sure if this is some sort of test or not. After all, this is the Dragon Lady's class. For all I know, she could be sitting outside nabbing all of them right now. Suckers.

So we sit, the 8 or so of us, and him.

"What do you want to talk about?" he says. We're silent. Someone asks if there is another test, but he confirms there isn't. And the conversation ensues. I'm not really following what they are saying. There is mostly rambling about this or that. But then, he looks right at me and says, "You. You my dear are going to break a lot of hearts".

I look around behind me to see who he really is speaking to; but there is no one. So, I guess he's talking to me. Me? A heart breaker? So I say the first thing that comes to my mind, "Then why am I the one who is always getting her heart broken?". Ah! The melodrama at 15. I had a grand tally of 1 boyfriend up until then.

"Because" he says, "You have to make sure he is a good man".

But how will I know if he's a good man?

He proceeds to tell me, "When you enter a room, does he sit in the most comfortable chair or does he let others take it? Is he careful with his words? Does he make sure that you are ok before he is? You can learn a lot by watching a person. Trust me, with your eyes you will break a lot of hearts".

That last sentence triggers a memory. It's not the first time I've heard someone say that to me. My first trip to the dentist took four adults to hold me down. Like any budding 5 year old control freak -- I was going to make this as difficult as it possibly could be. And so, in an effort to hold me in the chair; I had my mother on one leg, my father holding down the other, the dentist on my right arm, and the hygienist on my left. And I twitched, like a convict on death row getting electrocuted. And I screamed my little heart out -- full throttle.

In all fairness to me, I wasn't really sure why I was being taken into that tiny little room with the pointy metal things and the big bright light. Maybe if someone had explained it to me I wouldn't have had a full-on panic attack. But no one did. So there was a bit of a struggle.

"Oh, my!" said the hygienist is a soft and calm voice. "Look at your eyes! Doctor, look at her eyes".

This seemed to calm me down a bit because the lady was very nice and she was smiling. "Don't cry lovely, it's going to be ok. We just want to look in your mouth and see your teeth, alright?". I stopped screaming and nodded. I was still heaving from being so upset. The reason the hygienist was in fascination with my eyes is that they go the most miraculous colour of iridescent green when I'm really upset. "With eyes like those, you're going to be quite the heart breaker" she soothed to me. I wasn't too sure what a heart breaker was, but her voice was calm, and I relaxed in the chair -- much to my parent's relief.

So, even though this Supply Teacher was getting very Hannibal Lector on me with his crazy insight and inappropriate conversation -- I took what he said as the truth. Because, it was a compliment. And, it wasn't the first time I heard someone say that to me. And as I wondered if he could make the rattlesnake noise with his teeth like Anthony Hopkins does in the movie, the bell rang. And we got up to leave.

But I never forgot those words that he told me that day in the portable. Weirdo or not, there was a bit of truth to it. It's funny, when someone speaks the truth to your soul -- it resonates with you. You may not realize it in the exact moment, but it will hit you when the time is right.

And so, 16 or 17 years later I'm waiting for a subway in New York City one hot September morning with my boyfriend. And despite the crowd, the heat, and the level of irritability I notice something about him. When the subway doors open he waits aside until everyone is off. He holds his arm back to protect me from the rampage. He lets mothers with strollers enter the subway before us. And when we get on the subway car, he lets me have the last seat -- even though I'm sure that he is just as exhausted as I am. And I know from these sequence of events that happened in the last 30 seconds or so; that this is a really good man.

And I'm scared.




NIRVANA - HEART-SHAPED BOX - www.myspace.com/nirvanal