Mr. Dover, the Bagel Bandit

It is a true shame to see bags of stale bagels thrown out at Franklin’s Bagels and Coffee each afternoon. But it is less of a shame to see at least one bag get rescued covertly by Mr. Dover, my social studies teacher. How do I know he does this? Well, I’ve been one of the recipients of some of those bagels on a semi-regular basis. Mr. Dover is one of those teachers that people want for a teacher. He lets us talk with our friends in class while still keeping us on task, gets us moving, and makes learning engaging. He even dresses up in costume from time to time!  It helps that he rarely gives out homework too. Usually, it’s because we do a lot of work in class.

I’m Charlie, and my family gets by. We don’t have nothing, but having three solid meals each day for myself and my 3 siblings isn’t always a reality. Somehow, Mr. Dover picked up on my lack - and the lack of some other peers - and he’s taken a risk by doing what he can to help. At some point, he went from being a great teacher to a great friend. Maybe it’s the brown bags of pb&js he noticed me carrying, or the being on free lunch when I need it, but he just seems to know when someone needs more than what they’re getting. I almost feel bad… Mr. Dover isn’t rolling in millions himself. I mentioned he’s my teacher, right? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him eat his own pb&js most days this week. 

After class, he’ll call me or some other peer by name and ask us to stay a moment. Most kids probably just think he’s talking to us about our last paper or something as they scurry onto their next class.  In reality, he says “Charlie, can you help me carry my bag to my car after school today?” We who know better always say yes, because that means we’ll get the bag of stale-but-still-delicious Franklin’s bagels to take home. The first time he told me, he explained that those bagels are supposed to be discarded for liability or something, but that he thinks they’re meant to be put into the homes of those who don’t care that they aren’t morning-fresh. From then on, he’s used mildly coded language because the bagel shop can’t knowingly give out “old” bagels, and Mr. Dover isn’t permitted to sell (or even give away) food to students. It’s a weird, nonsensical system. Nobody talks about it, but everybody has an opinion, and it’s not in favor of being less wasteful and helping families like mine.

…

FRIDAY, 9:35 A.M.

“Charlie, could you stay back a sec?”

I know most likely he’s got a bagel bag for me. I always get a twinge of nerves thinking my friends will catch on… 

“Sure, Mr. D.,” I say.

“Would you mind helping me with my bag after school?”

“Yeah, sure thing.” I nod with a look of acute thankfulness mixed with nerves that he knows well.

…

FRIDAY, 3:25 P.M.

As I pass Mr. Dover’s car with a big bag in my arms, I stuff it into my backpack the best I can. “Charlie,” Mrs. Hannely calls, “... have a good weekend.” Mrs. Hannely is the most familiar board member. She’s regularly involved with the school and knows many students by name. She’s intimidating at times but isn’t outwardly mean or anything. She actually is very polite, so it’s hard to place why she can be hard to connect with. It’s almost like she wants you to confess to something you didn’t do. In this case, I do feel secretive, because today she seemed to have noticed my mysterious bag. She didn’t say anything about it though.

…

MONDAY, 8:05 A.M.

“Mr. Dover, I need to tell you something.” I tell him before class starts. I was actually annoyingly early today.

“Sure, Charlie, what’s up?”

“Well…” I try to concoct some veiled language… “I helped with your bag on Friday and… um… I don’t know, I just think someone saw me.”

“Okay, what do you mean? Did someone say something?”

“Not exactly. Mrs. Hannely… she told me to have a good weekend. But she hesitated. I think she saw me putting the bag… your bag… away.”

“Hey bud… don’t sweat it. If it comes up, I’ll handle it. This isn’t for you to worry about.”

“Thank you,” I said meekly.

…

MONDAY, 3:45 P.M.

Like clockwork, the bagel guy drops the bagels behind the shop, and Mr. Dover waits in his car to swing by to grab them before they’re tossed out for good. This time, he noticed the bagel guy accidentally drop something from his work shirt, but the guy didn’t notice. He dashed over for the bag to give to someone in class tomorrow (yet to be decided) and his piqued curiosity glanced at what fell. It was his name tag, which had a clearly broken pin. It read “Jared - Bagel Baker” on it. He leaves the name tag there, to hopefully be found, and runs like a robber with the bag of gold… almost as good as gold to those kids, anyway.

…

TUESDAY, 8:25 A.M.

“Hey Shanna,” he asked after clearing his throat. 

“Yes, Mr. Dover?”

“After class, could you hang back?”

“Okay,” she said nervously.

Charlie noticed the interaction. He knew, like Mr. Dover likely did, that Shanna was new this month, and also has been bringing her lunch to school. Usually it’s been super small, like one apple, or buttered bread, but never more than one thing at a time.

Charlie ignored his urge to tell her not to worry. She probably thought she failed a test or something. But he didn’t want to say, “Hey Shanna, he just noticed you’re poor like me somehow, and he’s got a bag of bagels for you.” 

Before Mr. Dover ever tells someone his bagel plan for the first time, he clears his throat. Whether it’s a rough week as a class, or someone pulled a prank on him, or he has to share any serious news, he clears his throat before speaking. It’s usually how he announces pop quizzes as well, like when he has to be extra teacher-y. The impression Mr. Dover gave was that this bagel bandit business of his was a somewhat awkward mission, but he was committed to it.

…

TUESDAY, 3:20 P.M.

Charlie saw Shanna with the treasured bag of bagels, and he also saw Mrs. Hannely. She didn’t say anything to Shanna, but simply watched. Charlie wanted to run to Mr. Dover to tell him, or to Shanna to provide cover for her as she carried what looked like a bag of trash, but he didn’t want to draw attention. Maybe he was mistaken in Mrs. Hannely watching. It was such a kind thing for Mr. Dover to do so often, but for some reason it felt wrong, like it was a bad thing he helped kids with old bagels. At the same time, Charlie wanted to protect him.

…

TUESDAY, 3:45 P.M.

Mr. Dover successfully collected the bag of bagels for the next day. This time, he saw Jared drop the bag behind at the normal spot, then glance around, almost as if he was expecting Mr. Dover, the mysterious bagel bandit. He also saw the name tag back on his uniform. When he saw Jared go back inside, he quickly exited the car. On the bag, there was a note taped onto it saying I put in some packets of butter and cream cheese. Mr. Dover smiled at this young man’s effort in this covert mission. He dropped the bag in his car, grabbed a sticky note from the car and left it on the back door of the shop saying Thanks Jared. You rock.

…

WEDNESDAY, 7:55 A.M. 

“Mr. Dover,” Mrs. Hannely beckoned, “Could you pop in for a moment?”

Mr. Dover cleared his throat. “Um, yes, of course.”

“I noticed two of your students recently near your car after school.”

Mr. Dover recalled his recent conversation with Charlie and gulped down his fear, hoping his sweaty palms and flushed face wouldn't give him away.

“...and you see, I also noticed them both with big trash bags, sort of like the one you left outside my office just now, and I wondered if you could explain to me what you’ve been giving them.”

Mrs. Hannely had a direct way about her, but she wasn’t harsh which compelled Mr. Dover to respond with respect and discretion. She noticed his bag, after all, so he couldn’t outright lie, but he could be choosy about what he shared.

“Oh, yeah, you know, these students needed some help, so I’ve been helping.”

“Could you elaborate?” she urged.

“Hmm… sure. I mean, well, you see… it’s bagels.”

“Bagels?”

“Yes. You know Franklin’s, down the street from the school?”

“I do.”

“Well, I noticed they regularly - pretty much every day - put out these bags of bagels that don’t get sold. It was an accident really. I just passed by one day, and the idea came to me to take them to help my hungrier students, rather than let them turn into garbage. I want you to know, Mrs. Hannely, that I value my job, and these students, and I -...”

“Mr. Dover, let me stop you.”

“He closed his eyes in silence for the longest two seconds.”

“...You misunderstand me” she stood up as she continued. “You may not know this,” she said as she shut her door, “but I grew up with at best two meals a day, usually from school. On weekends, it might be one. I recall eating peanut butter out of the jar as my mom made ramen many separate times. It was a special day when I could have a snack after school. That was rare.”

Mr. Dover listened in shock, surprised that this successful board member had any clue what struggling families went through.

“I don’t have any desire to chastise you.”

He audibly sighed in relief. 

“I want to help. I don’t think I can encourage suspicious trash bags being passed between you and students in the parking lot, but maybe we can work together, after school hours, to continue your efforts.”

“I’m listening…” he responded.

“Maybe you can continue collecting those bagels, but instead of the parking lots, bring them into our conference room. We can bag up multiple bags of food, not just bagels. I can invest my own money to chip in. Cereal bars, fruit, and whatever else we can get in bulk. Once per week, you can bring by the students who need meals most to the conference room, where they can take a bag home.”

“I think that can work.” He replied.

“Okay then, let’s work out the details the next couple days, and into next week as necessary, and get this going by Friday next week?”

“Wow, okay, we’re doing this then!” 

Mrs. Hannelly simply smiled and nodded, and Mr. Dover left to begin his day.

…

WEDNESDAY, 8:25 A.M. 

“Hey Charlie, can you see me after class today?”