School Days

     I can remember walking to school, mouthing the letters of the spelling words.  We did have spelling tests in first grade back then, and so far I hadn't missed any words.  My mother would go over the list with me and everything had made perfect sense.  Until this time:  there were 2 words on the list that threw me.  The words were "store" and "white."   The first I thought I had, but I could make no sense of the word white, so I relied on memorization.  Around the corner by the Valley Inn, past the Methodist Church, and up the steps into  the red brick school building, I repeated the spellings over and over, my stomach churning every step of the way.
    I was in my seat, pencil in hand, blank sheet of paper before me, awaiting the dictation of the words.  The rest of the list, as usual, was easy, no problem, even the word store, once written, looked right to me. But I panicked at the word white.  I knew it started with a "w" but beyond that, I knew what all the letters were, but had no idea of where they came after the w.  I tried, writing over the letters I thought needed changing.  The word looked scratchy and scrawled.
    Then, the moment of dread---the arrival of the teacher to correct the test.  The teacher was Mrs.Flynn,  to my first-grade self a tall and foreboding presence.  She loomed above my desk, over my shoulder.  And she had her pencil with her, with the sharpened red end at the ready. She scrolled it down over my list of words, and Horrors! stopped at my feeble attempt.  "What is this supposed to be? she asked, in her stern, schoolmarm voice.  I was sure everyone in the room, including the second-grade section on the left side of the room, was watching, aghast.  I whispered "white" and she halted the progress of her pen down the list and laid down a big red Check Mark next to the offending entry.  She said no more, just walked away.
     Is that all there is to a fire?