At eight o’clock Mr. Hendersen enters the freshmen wing. He is pushing
“The Trolley” . . . a tall service cart on wheels that has a battery-powered heating unit built into it. He parks the cart in the hallway outside of the kitchen, pulls six pizza boxes out of the warming oven, carries them into the kitchen, and sets them down on the kitchen table.
The girls, generally, are curious, and they form a standing audience . . . mostly in the hallway . . . as they gather round to see this stranger bearing gifts.
Mr. Hendersen: There’s pop and juice in the frige. And they are a . . . quiet audience.
Mr. Hendersen: I used to deliver pizzas for a job. And there is a little giggling and snickering.
Mr. Hendersen: I liked it, especially when there was a mistake . . . an order that had been goofed up. We got to eat the mistakes.
And there is some laughter. It is sort-of restrained laughter, but laughter just the same, and Mr. Hendersen will take that.
And now, as he re-assumes the helm behind the trolley and sets a course for the sophomore wing, there is a chorus of “Thank you Mr. Hendersen.” to send him on his way.
As he is entering the sophomore wing the closing door bangs against the side of the trolley . . . announcing his arrival. Most of the girls are out in the hallway, and there is a clatter of “Hi Jimmy.” to greet him, and, as these greetings tail off, a few girls pipe up late, giving it a sort of echo effect.
Mr. Hendersen: Hi girls. Good to have you back.
And he “deals out” six pizza boxes to the waiting students.
Marcy: Jimmy. Did you see the Christmas trees on Park Avenue?
Mr. Hendersen: (chuckles) Yup. That was a pretty good one.
Hayley: Do you know who did it?
Mr. Hendersen: Nope.
Marcy: Did many girls come back early?
Mr. Hendersen: Eighteen . . . some earlier than others.
Nicole: I wanted to stay all summer.
The girls: (laughter)
Mara: When’s Alumni Day this year Jimmy?
Mr. Hendersen: September twenty-fifth.
Mara: That was great last year.
Hayley: What group are you having this year Jimmy?
Mr. Hendersen: Sela.
At this, the girls who know who Sela is say “Wow.” while the girls who do not know who they are say “Who’s Sela?”
Mr. Hendersen: OK. Have a good night girls.
The girls: Thanks Jimmy. Bye.
The pizza drop off continues. The “circuit” is now half completed, and Mr. Hendersen is sort-of marching along as he pilots the trolley toward the junior wing.
Mr. Hendersen likes the juniors. They are a close-knit group of girls . . . family oriented, protective of each other, with good initiative. The junior year at Barclay’s is perhaps the most fun year. The students “know the ropes” by that time, and they can enjoy the ease and comfort that that familiarity affords them . . . without having to concern themselves with an approaching graduation.
Mr. Hendersen: Hi girls. Pizza anyone?
Carissa: Pizza?
Brandy: Not tonight Jimmy.
The girls: (laughter)
Macy: Fraid not.
Morgan: Now if it was Chinese food, well, that’d be OK.
Mr. Hendersen: All right. That’s fine. I’ll just leave these pizza boxes here in the kitchen as a sort of . . . decoration.
Carissa: Hey Jimmy. The freshmen . . . are they OK?
Mr. Hendersen: Yup. It’s a good group.
Morgan: Little angels.
The girls: (laughter)
Mr. Hendersen: I’m a little worried though.
Carissa: How come?
Mr. Hendersen: I don’t want them picking on you girls here.
The girls: (laughter)
Mr. Hendersen: This pizza place. It’s a pretty good restaurant too . . . if you’ve never been there.
Alexis: It is! Excellent Italian food.
Brandy: Lasagna . . . yum.
Alexis: You usually have to wait in line though on Friday and Saturday night.
Carissa: Jimmy. We want you to stay, but we know the seniors have “dibs.”
Mr. Hendersen: Yup. Always. OK. Have a good night girls.
The girls: Bye Jimmy. Thanks.
When Mr. Hendersen comes through the doorway into the seniors’ wing he sees that the students are waiting for him. They gesture him into the game room where two card tables have been set up.
Mr. Hendersen: Cold pizza anyone?
Missy: I guess we’re last on your list Jimmy.
Celeste: It’s not fair.
Jody: I’m going to complain to the school administrator.
Mr. Hendersen: Good idea. Let me know what he says.
Laurie: There had better be pizzas in those boxes.
The girls: (laughter)
Missy: Or no tip for you Jimmy.
The girls: (laughter)
Mr. Hendersen: OK. Let’s see. That’s two pizzas with pepperoni, two with Italian sausage and black olives, one with ham and pineapple, and one plain.
Laurie: Jimmy. Can you stick around a while and have some pizza?
Mr. Hendersen: Of course.
The pizza boxes are opened and there is a sort of traffic jam as everyone tries to take a slice at the same time. Rachel takes two slices and then walks over to Mr. Hendersen.
Mr. Hendersen: Hey you.
Rachel: Here. This one’s for you.
Mr. Hendersen: Thanks.
If Mr. Hendersen has a favorite student . . . it is Rachel . . . and everyone sort-of knows it.
Mr. Hendersen: How are your folks?
Rachel: Good. They’re letting me have a car this year.
Mr. Hendersen: Really. That’s great. So, you moved in by yourself?
Rachel: Yep. They offered to come along, but I told them it wasn’t necessary.
Rachel has, what Mr. Hendersen calls, “Inner beauty.” She doesn’t think she is pretty, and she honestly does not think she is better than other people. She says what she is really thinking (unless she is in a spot), and she believes in God. She doesn’t like wearing make up, and she likes dogs more than she likes cats. She is not a gifted student, but she tries extra hard . . . to make up for it. And she is a good solid friend to those fortunate enough to have her as a friend.
Mr. Hendersen: I played in a softball game last weekend.
Rachel: Really.
Mr. Hendersen: Yeah. I struck out.
Rachel: (laughs)
Mr. Hendersen: It was bad.
Rachel: Fast pitch?
Mr. Hendersen: No . . . slow pitch!
Rachel: (laughs)
Mr. Hendersen: It was bad.
After twenty minutes or so, Mr. Hendersen stands up, gives the girls a little salute, “Have a good night girls.” and makes his way toward the wing’s exit . . . pushing the trolley.