the miseducation of patrick dunn

Some great characters roamed the hallways of my high school, but the girl with one leg was the most memorable. Even though God dealt her a shitty hand by not allowing her a limb below her femur, she still radiated an upbeat and joyful personality as she limped around campus on her peg leg. I could never remember her real name, but I lovingly nicknamed her The Buccaneer and always envisioned a cartoon parrot, like Iago from Aladdin, perched on her shoulder whenever I saw her.

Sometimes I would forget she only had one leg and would be surprised when I heard a thump coming from her direction in the classroom. I turned around and saw The Buccaneer lying on the floor of Ms. Cartel’s room. Apparently she tried to get up out of her chair and her leg had become disconnected. A student sitting next to her begrudgingly handed her the dislocated prosthetic from off the floor, and then The Buccaneer hopped out of the room on one leg to adjust herself in the hallway.

After the commotion died down, our attention shifted back to Ms. Cartel; who now looked like she had witnessed a mob hit. One of my classmates had asked her if she was okay.

Ms. Cartel took a deep breath, apologized, put one hand over her chest, and said, “I am sorry, I never knew she had one leg. I nearly had a stroke thinking her leg had snapped in half. Then, when Jennifer crouched down, picked up her leg, and handed it to her; my entire life flashed before my eyes. I think I am going to have to take a few minutes and gather my thoughts. Class, feel free to talk amongst yourselves.”

Social Studies class was never the same again.