A Biscuit and a Piece of Pork Fat

Loretta June and Avery Dixon sat in two of three chairs placed outside of Principal Clapsaddle’s office waiting for their punishments. The two fourth graders, who attended Comanche Elementary School in Little Comanche, Texas, had gotten into a heated argument at lunch time that resulted in Loretta throwing a homemade biscuit at Avery. The students who bore witness broke into laughter after the buttermilk baked treat bounced off of Avery’s forehead. This sent the young redheaded boy into a frenzy as the skin behind his freckled face turned red with embarrassment. He lunged toward Loretta with bad intentions and Loretta did not back down. That’s how they ended up in the waiting area outside of the principal’s office waiting to be swatted. 

For Loretta, the thought of receiving a paddle on her backside from an authoritative figure such as Principal Clapsaddle had been a terrifying idea, but would also be well worth the embarrassment she’d caused Avery in that lunchroom. The boy had rudely picked on Loretta every time he saw her and he’d made it a point to laugh at the lunches her mother had packed for her. She’d come from a poor farming family and rarely came to school with anything more than a biscuit and piece of pork fat. For some reason (as if bullies ever needed a valid reason to be jerks) this amused Avery. The freckled faced, red headed brat would point at Loretta and laugh, “Look at Loretta, everyone! All she’s got to eat is a biscuit and a piece of pork fat!”

Even on days that he had not been in the lunchroom to pick on Loretta, he would find her in the hallway between classes, or walking home from school, and say things like, “Hey, Pork Fat! Mama pack us any biscuits today?” 

Loretta had always done her best to ignore Avery. Sometimes she’d hang her head in shame hoping that none of the other kids would join in on the mean behavior. She’d look at the other kid’s lunches—peanut butter and jelly or ham sandwiches, some with left over spaghetti or fried chicken from the night before—and wondered how much better they could have been. After all, she did enjoy her mother’s biscuits very much, and the pork fat wasn’t too bad either. 

On the day Loretta and Avery ended up waiting for Ms. Clapsaddle to unleash the wrath of her paddle, Loretta had simply decided that she’d had enough of Avery and his bullying. She waited in fear, sitting across from Avery who also waited in fear with crusty dried up blood around his nostrils, both ready to tell their side of the story. Loretta was sure Avery would lie and try to make it seem as if he had done nothing wrong, but would Ms. Clapsaddle believe him? Loretta had never been paddled at school before. That was a punishment that had been reserved for the only the worst of the bad kids, kids like Avery who, Loretta had known, had been on the receiving end of that paddle more times than a fourth grader could count. Loretta had always been one of the good ones. 

“Ms. June,” Loretta heard Ms. Clapsaddle call before taking a deep breath and wondering how bad it was going to be. 

Loretta had never been called Ms. June before and to her it sounded strange. It had sounded official. I’m officially in deep trouble, she thought to herself as she stood up to make her way into the principal’s office. Before walking in she looked at Avery and stuck her tongue out at him. The boy returned a middle finger and a deviant smile. Loretta walked into the office and was told to take a seat.

“Hello, Ms. June,” Ms. Clapsaddle said with a smile. 

“You can call me Loretta if you want,” Loretta offered before hanging her head the way kids usually do in that I-know-I’m-in-trouble fashion. 

“Okay, Loretta,” Ms. Clapsaddle said. “Why don’t you tell me what happened in the cafeteria at lunchtime today?” 

Loretta looked up in an attempt to make eye contact but noticed the paddle sitting right there on the desk in front of Ms. Clapsaddle. It had been painted a dark forest green at some point during its child beating life, but most of the paint had faded into a lighter color, and a lot of it had chipped off over the years. Yep, the paint chipped off on the asses of bad kids like Avery Dixon, Loretta thought. She pictured Avery getting paddled, probably bent over Ms. Clapsaddle’s knee screaming out in pain, and the thought nearly brought a smile to her face. Then she remembered where she was at and realized it wouldn’t be so funny if, no, when her butt was at the other end of that paddle. 

“Loretta?” Ms. Clapsaddle said, snapping the girl out of her momentary day dream and reminding her that she had just asked her a question. 

“Yes ma’am,” Loretta said. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Just tell me what happened.”

At that moment Loretta burst into tears. “He’s always makin’ fun of me and pickin’ at me for no good reason, Ms. Clapsaddle! I’ve never even said a single word to that mean boy but there he is, always turnin’ up with somethin’ rude to say about how poor I am. He’s always makin’ fun of the lunch my mama packs for me and tellin’ the other kids ‘Oh look at what Loretta brought for lunch. A biscuit and a piece of pork fat! That’s all she gets everyday because her daddy is too broke to get her some good food.’” 

Ms. Clapsaddle closed her eyes and shook her head. “He’s a bully.”

“Yes ma’am,” Loretta answered still sobbing as her nose began to run. Ms. Clapsaddle handed her a tissue. “I just finally got sick and tired of that goddamn idiot.” Loretta slightly gasped, her eyes opened wide as she realized she had just taken the Lord’s name in vein. And right there in her principal’s office. She knew for sure the paddling would now be twice as bad, but Ms. Clapsaddle seemed to ignore the blasphemy. 

“So you hit him?” the principal asked.

“No ma’am. Well, not at first. I threw my biscuit at him.”

Ms. Clapsaddle held back her laughter and tried to remain professional. “And it struck him?” 

“Right on his dumb forehead.”

Ms. Clapsaddle looked down at her lap to hide giggle from Loretta. She took a breath and looked back up. “And then what happened?”

“He got extremely mad and rushed toward me. He held his fist cocked back as if he were gonna sock me, so I socked him first.”

“You punched him?”

“Right in his stupid nose. Just like my daddy taught me. That way his eyes would tear up and get all watery. And if he still wanted to fight after that, well, he wouldn’t be able to see all too well and I might have a chance to win,” 

“I understand,” Ms. Clapsaddle replied in a somewhat sympathetic tone. “I’ll tell you what,” she added, “Next time Mr. Dixon, or anyone else at this school decides to bully you about what you bring for lunch, or anything else for that matter, I want you to march directly to this office and tell me about it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Before you throw a biscuit at them.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m sure your mama works hard making them biscuits and she wouldn’t want you wasting them on the likes of mean ol’ bullies. 

“No ma’am. You’re right. She wouldn’t like that one bit.”

“Well, since we have an understanding, you’re dismissed, young lady.”

“So…no paddle?” Loretta asked in a pathetic, yet relieved, voice. 

“Nope. Not for you,” Ms. Clapsaddle replied and added, “Please send Avery in on your way out.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Loretta got up and left the office. Avery was still sitting in the waiting room. He’d been picking his nose and wiping his bloody boogers on the arm rest of his chair. “How’d it go?” he asked with a bratty smile on his face. “Sting a little?”

“Didn’t feel a thing,” Loretta said with her own smile, “Your turn.”

Avery’s smile faded and his eyes widened. He’d be there before. Many times. He knew what came next.  

The girl smiled as she could hear Ms. Clapsaddle’s voice from behind the door the boy had just entered. “Get in here and bend over, boy! I’ve told you at least a hundred times about bullying!”

“Ms. Clapsaddle, no!” he cried out.   

Loretta didn’t see Avery in the lunchroom the next day and wondered if Ms. Clapsaddle had paddled him so hard that he had to stay home. Broke his tailbone, she hoped. Perhaps he’d received a suspension, but that wouldn’t be as good as a broken ass. Whatever the case, Loretta thought, he deserved it. Then a feeling of guilt came over her. She was a good kid and had felt bad for wishing pain on Avery, even if he was a mean little bastard. She ate her biscuit and a piece of pork fat before going out to the recess yard to get some fresh air until her class resumed. On her way out, tucked between two blue trashcans on a concrete slab that lead to the recess area, Loretta saw Avery Dixon crouched down as if he were hiding. 

“Avery Dixon!” she said, “What are you doing?” 

“Just eating my lunch.”

“Oh my gosh!” she said surprised as she noticed the contents of what Avery’s mother had packed him for lunch. He held one of each in each hand. “Is that a biscuit and a piece of pork fat!” she gasped. “Avery Dixon, you scoundrel!” 

“I know. I know,” the boy replied in an embarrassed tone. “This is what I eat everyday. It’s all we can afford.”

“Well I’ll be!” 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” the boy pleaded as his eyes began to fill up with tears. 

“Avery Dixon! You don’t have to feel ashamed and you darn sure don’t have to hide while you eat. You can come sit with me and we can enjoy our poor kid lunches together. Darn what anybody else thinks.” 

“Really? Even after I . . . I . . .” 

“Forget about it, Avery!” she said. “You be kind to me and I’ll be kind to you.”

From that day until the end of the school year Loretta June and Avery Dixon sat in the lunchroom and ate their biscuits and pieces of pork fat together.