The Boy Who Couldn't Lie
“Luke, where is your homework?”
Sister Bernadette stood at the head of his row, holding a sheaf of assignments in one hand, while the other casually waved a long wooden pointer. Luke winced as his eyes focused on the staff of doom.
“Sister Bernadette, I was finishing it up last night, when my dog, Barney, jumped off the bed and grabbed it.”
Luke noticed that her brows had now impossibly descended below her eyes, and that she may have stopped breathing, since her cheeks turned a deep crimson. He looked down at his desk and added, “I tried to stop him. Then he ran out of my room, and by the time I caught up with him, he ate it.”
“And you couldn’t…do it over…because?”
There was a hissing in her stammer, as if steam was shooting out the sides of her mouth.
“It was late, and my mom was yelling at me to go to bed.”
Silence. Luke began wondering what had happened, and slowly raised his head. He was stunned to see Sister Bernadette towering over him. She leaned over, as if about to whisper something confidential, something secret; but her voice was anything but a whisper.
Young man. You are in the seventh grade, and if you ever expect to get to the eighth, you will learn two things: you will carry out your assignments on time, and you will never, never lie. Not to me, not to your friends, not to your parents, not to anyone.”
Before he could retract his hands from atop the desk – whack!
The school bus dropped Luke off at his corner. He waved at a couple of his classmates and walked home. Angling through the side gate into his backyard, he tossed his back pack onto the porch, and called out, “Barney! Yo, Barney! Where are you hiding this time?”
He clapped his hands and called a few more times. The yard remained quiet. A quick check of the doghouse in the corner confirmed that it was empty. Puzzled, he jogged back to the porch to grab his books when the backdoor swung open. His mom stood at the threshold, holding his kid brother by the hand.
“Hi, Luke!” Jake yelled, his mouth covered in jam.
His little brother adored him.
“Mom. Is Barney inside? I thought he wasn’t allowed inside during the day.”
“Luke, I had to take him to the vet today. He wasn’t eating and he kept whining all morning long.”
“What’s wrong with him? He was fine yesterday.”
“The vet said it looked like a bad case of indigestion. He thought that Barney may have swallowed something foreign.”
Sister Bernadette stood at the head of his row, holding a sheaf of assignments in one hand, while the other casually waved a long wooden pointer. Luke winced as his eyes focused on the staff of doom.
“Sister Bernadette, I was finishing it up last night, when my dog, Barney, jumped off the bed and grabbed it.”
Luke noticed that her brows had now impossibly descended below her eyes, and that she may have stopped breathing, since her cheeks turned a deep crimson. He looked down at his desk and added, “I tried to stop him. Then he ran out of my room, and by the time I caught up with him, he ate it.”
“And you couldn’t…do it over…because?”
There was a hissing in her stammer, as if steam was shooting out the sides of her mouth.
“It was late, and my mom was yelling at me to go to bed.”
Silence. Luke began wondering what had happened, and slowly raised his head. He was stunned to see Sister Bernadette towering over him. She leaned over, as if about to whisper something confidential, something secret; but her voice was anything but a whisper.
Young man. You are in the seventh grade, and if you ever expect to get to the eighth, you will learn two things: you will carry out your assignments on time, and you will never, never lie. Not to me, not to your friends, not to your parents, not to anyone.”
Before he could retract his hands from atop the desk – whack!
The school bus dropped Luke off at his corner. He waved at a couple of his classmates and walked home. Angling through the side gate into his backyard, he tossed his back pack onto the porch, and called out, “Barney! Yo, Barney! Where are you hiding this time?”
He clapped his hands and called a few more times. The yard remained quiet. A quick check of the doghouse in the corner confirmed that it was empty. Puzzled, he jogged back to the porch to grab his books when the backdoor swung open. His mom stood at the threshold, holding his kid brother by the hand.
“Hi, Luke!” Jake yelled, his mouth covered in jam.
His little brother adored him.
“Mom. Is Barney inside? I thought he wasn’t allowed inside during the day.”
“Luke, I had to take him to the vet today. He wasn’t eating and he kept whining all morning long.”
“What’s wrong with him? He was fine yesterday.”
“The vet said it looked like a bad case of indigestion. He thought that Barney may have swallowed something foreign.”