Ten Minutes Late!

The story recounts a childhood memory of constant tardiness to school due to the narrator’s sister taking too long to eat breakfast. The situation escalates when the narrator finally confronts the teacher responsible for their detention.

We would all sit around the dining table. At the head of the table would be the gurgling samovar with a teapot perched on top. Mama would sit at one side of the samovar, and Papa on the other. The table would be set with various cheeses, honey, jam, eggs, and fruit.

To expedite matters, Mama would make both of us a sandwich thick with butter and jam or honey to send with us for the trip to school, for Nora would not eat. Nora had a habit of staring into space. Mama would say, ‘Nora eat!’ Nora would put a morsel in her mouth and continue staring into space. ‘Nora chew.’ Nora would chew and still stare into space. ‘Nora, swallow!’

This was all very agonizing for me as I would be late for school and have to go to detention after school every day. I could not explain to Miss Sahakian, the teacher in charge of attendance, that my sister took a long time eating. Every morning, I would say, “Sorry, I was stuck in a traffic jam.” After a while, Miss Sahakian just gave me a disdainful look and wrote, “Traffic Jam.” Every day, I was detained after school and had to write, “I shall not be late for school, I shall not be late for school, I shall not…” twenty times. Every day, I arrived late for school.

Time passed. It happened that Miss Sahakian became our class math teacher. She still greeted me each morning with a comment like, “Ten minutes late!” and wrote “Traffic Jam” on my late slip. She still gave me detention after school. She had become the albatross around my neck. It seemed I would never get rid of her taunts and detentions.

One morning, my class waited patiently for her to come and teach. I looked at my watch. She was five minutes late, ten minutes late, twelve minutes late. Finally, she walked into the room and walked up to her desk. It was too good to resist. I made a show of pushing up my sleeve, just like she did. Carefully, I looked at my watch. In a loud voice, imitating hers, I piped out, “Fifteen minutes late!” The class burst out into uncontrollable hysterical giggles! She went berserk! Immediately, she called for the janitor and demanded he remove this wretched child from her classroom! No! From the school compound post haste! I was banned from school for a whole week. Upon facing my father that evening, I was not afraid as he found a fitting punishment. I did not care. I had finally received retribution and any punishment was well worth it!