Dr. Burke said, "OK, Davy, you need to tell your mom that there's a serious situation based on your behavior in Mrs. Machida's class today. That language was used. Unacceptable language. And that if this kind of behavior occurs again, there will be serious consequences. Suspension or expulsion."
I held the phone low and started signing to my mom, keeping my voice at a whisper so she could still read my lips without Dr. Burke hearing me. "Dr. Burke wants you to know about something that happened today at school." I paused. "It was ... during recess. Some kids, they ... they were torturing a butterfly. They were pulling its wings off. And I jumped in the middle of them and I saved the butterfly." Who knows where this shit was coming from? A dream? A demented episode of 3-2-1-Contact? "The butterfly ..." I went on, "... it was pink. It was from Madagascar. It was the music teacher's pet, Mrs. Machida. She told Dr. Burke, and Dr. Burke thought you should know. But she has to go, she's really late for her dentist's appointment." I passed the phone back to her, praying for the best.
"That's a wonderful story," my mom said. "Thank you very much for your call. And please thank the music teacher for passing word along." She handed the phone back to me.