The Corvette

I did forget to tell you that the second phone call prompted my return to my original classroom. Nothing much was said but as you know actions often speak louder than words.
So. lo and behold, I have an injured foot. Seriously! And where do I find myself? In the principals office. Some one much later was to tell me that my principal was not my pal. This would be true of this situation as well.
Immediately there was a sense of alarm in her face as I hobbled into her office. Oblivious of the situation, a phone call was quickly made to my house. My mother answered, who did not speak a word of English. I took the phone and explained to her that they wanted me to come home.
My mother walked the distance to come and get me. She bore my weight, although not much, on her arm. What to do, what to do?
She finally managed to call my dad at work. I don't remember the conversation, but we had to wait for him to come home via public transportation. We did not own a vehicle. Of course, my dad lost his wages for that afternoon.
When he came home, he realized I need to go to the hospital. He asked our neighbor if she could possible borrow her car. Her name was Phyllis and she came right out of the Hollywood gossip columns. She owned a new convertible Vet.