The Red Letter

The Red Letter
By Jake Heraty


I was in the sixth grade when I rebelled against my parents. It was just a normal Friday in my last period when the phone rang through the classroom. My teacher Mr. Houston picked it up. He mumbled a few words into the telephone and hung up. He walked across the room and sat down at his desk. Then he tapped his pencil at his desk in a rhythmical pattern and looked at me.

“Zach, your attendance is need at the office.” Said Mr. Houston straight faced.

“Um, why Mr. Houston?” I asked.

Mr. Houston looked down at his pencil before the response. He was thinking of an answer even my twelve year old mind could wrap that around.

He was now staring at me smiling at me apologetically,
“I do not know Mr. Williams.”

I got up from my seat and walked to the door. I looked back at the classroom; everyone was looking at me; all twenty five faces not including Mr. Houston. I turned and pushed through the door. I squinted through the sun. I decided to take the long way to think of what I have done lately. Well let’s see I started a dodge ball game that I got in trouble for because I wasn’t allowed to and I hit a guy in the face.

But nothing new.
I unfortunately hit the office quicker than I needed. I pulled the handle to the office and let myself inside. The office clerk was too busy to notice me coming inside the building. I made a noticeable cough and that got his attention.

He looked up at me and gave a fake smile,
“ How can I help you, son?”

I looked at him and answered him with a straight face, “My teacher Mr. Houston got a call that said that the principle wanted to talk to me.”

He gave me finally a straight face. He looked at the principal’s office as he told me to sit down and wait for awhile. I sat down and looked around the building nervously. For another five minutes I sat there in total agony waiting to hear my mysterious fate. Until finally, the principle came into the room and asked me to come into his office.


When I got into his office I sat down and he stayed standing. The plaque of his name was embedded into his desk. It read, Mr. Shaltin.

Mr. Shaltin started first which usually isn’t good,
“Mr. Zach Williams, Mr. Zach Williams. You have been in here a lot of times haven’t you.”

Uh oh, this seems bad. I answer, “Um yes Mr. Shaltin.”

He looked up and sighed, “Mr. Williams I am sorry to disturb your sixth period Language class but I pulled you in to give you this.”

In Mr. Shaltin’s hand was a white envelope with in bold lettering:

Urgent
To The Parents of Mr. Zachary Williams


Mr. Shaltin put the letter on his desk and slid it across the desk to me. I picked it up and I read it to myself. I flipped the envelope over to see if there was anything on the back. There was nothing.

I quietly asked, “What is it for, my grades?”

Mr. Shaltin looked at the letter, “I cannot say anything about the letter. Just hand it to your parents and they will talk about it.”

I looked at him with confused look on my face. He sighed and stood up.

“Well that is all, Mr. Williams. The bell will ring at any minute so just stay in the office.” Said Mr. Shaltin.

He held out his hand and I shook it. I grabbed my bag and walked out of his office and out the door. The bell rang I ran out first through the gates and onto the sidewalk where I would make my journey to walk home.

I pulled the letter out of my pocket and investigated it in my hands. I was about to open it but my better judgment I stopped. I walked home without opening it. I got home and opened the door.



Slowly I walked into the kitchen and saw my mom sitting at the dinner table clipping coupons.

She didn’t look up at me but she asked, “How was your day sweetie?”

I opened the fridge and answered her question, “Good. The day was pretty normal.”


She then looked up at me and cocked her head a bit, “Really? No visits to the principle office?”

I sucked in my breath and grabbed an apple. What should I say? Would if I said no and she knew I went to the office because they called her. But what if I say yes and she doesn’t know, I will have to give her the letter. And what if the letter is bad? What if it gets me in trouble? Jeez what do I do?


I finally answer, “Yes, yes- yes I did.”

My mom stared at me. She then went back to clipping.

Again without looking up she formed another question, “Did you get anything from Mr. Shaltin?”

I felt sweat break onto my forehead. Slowly I moved my hand slowly to my pocket. My mother didn’t look at me she kept to her clippings. I touched the letter without looking at it.

I pulled it out quickly and flipped around in my hands a few times. After my second investigation of the letter I dropped it on the kitchen table. And I took a seat at the table. My mother took notice of the envelope and she picked it up.

“What is this?” She asked looking back and forth from the letter and me.

I coughed and answered, “Mr.Shaltin gave this to me. He said you will read it and talk to me about it.”

My mom dropped the letter onto the table and turned to me, “Do you what it’s about exactly?”

I shook my head, “Nope.”

She took it in her hands and took the scissors that she was using for clipping coupons and flipped the letter over. She then took the scissors and slid them open and sliced the back of the envelope open.

She took out the letter and flipped it open. Her eyes moved across the letter at a fast pace. After two minutes or so she put down the letter and slid it over to me.

“ Let’s talk about this…” she said.

I smiled at her, here we go..

The End



If you would like to know what the letter is about email me at my Writing.Com account please therefore I can know about if to make a sequel!