Where have you been? Where are you going? And why?
He stopped by my office in between classes mostly because he likes me, but probably also for the distraction. I wasn’t sure what was coming, a deeply well thought out spiritual query or a guerrilla attack to pilfer something from my desk. My office resembles something of a bomb shelter thanks to four sides of white cinder blocks without a window. As sheltered as it may seem, one look would tell you a bomb actually found its way inside. He could have lunged at the cup of Hershey’s Kisses or York Patties. Instead, amidst the stacks of ungraded papers to the left and right and center, Timmy spotted the soundtrack to Mel Gibson’s Braveheart hiding under the clutter. “Awwww, the greatest movie ever!”
“Oh, yeah, Timmy?” I asked halfheartedly as I considered my to-do list. “You’ve seen it?”
“Yeah, great movie.”
“I named my daughter after that story, actually.”
He sat staring at the front cover for a moment. “I actually watched it a couple of days ago. I had to teach my brother a little American history: Rambo. Rocky Balboa. And Braveheart.