A Regression of Thought

As Jack pulled himself from the wreck that had been his father’s sedan all he could think about was the story he would tell his folks. Story after story rolled through his mind until he could think of one that wouldn’t put the blame on him.

I had checked both ways before I started across the intersection. I didn’t even see the truck coming…no. They would see right through that as soon as I said it. The driver must have been drunk…and if he wasn’t the outcome to that is clear.

He rattled the ideas around as he examined the wreckage, without really noticing what he was actually seeing. The truck had hit the back end of his car tearing it off before Jack had even noticed anything was coming. Every time he played the situation through his head he couldn’t find where something had gone wrong. He was sure the light had been green for him and that the truck was slowing down. He seemed to remember a honk from the car behind him, urging him to press his accelerator.

People began to stare at the accident. One person had their cell phone out and was yelling at someone on the other end, telling them what had just happened. For an instant, Jack didn’t know what to do. It was at that moment that panic set in. He had to close his eyes to push back the vomit that wanted to find freedom. He had almost died, and for all his worth he couldn’t find anything he did as his fault; there was nothing he could have changed to prevent an almost fatal outcome.

A loud siren pierced his attempts to calm his stomach and heart and skin and any other organ that could show any sign of fear. The almost familiar red and blue lights penetrated his closed eye lids as they surrounded him, penning him in, keeping him from fleeing his greatest fear.

He stayed like that for sometime before the sirens stopped and the lights began to turn off. It never occurred to him that he should have had someone check to see if he was alright. He was alright, he had to be, he was there laying consciously on the ground waiting for the waves of fear to subside so he could forget the feeling of acidity rising up his throat.

After a while, he opened his eyes, and he gazed at the large structure that loomed before him. His school had been less than a block away. The brown bricked building attempted to hide the few speckles of red that melded together into a slight tint. Behind it a grey sky attempted to hide their own hints of color but doing a significantly better job. He pushed himself onto his feet and hissed slightly at how stiff his joints had become in the short time he had been laying on the ground. He almost reached behind to touch a pain in the back of his head but thought better of it, the spot would probably hurt more if touched.

The accident had been surrounded in DO NOT CROSS: POLICE ZONE yellow tape which required five or six wraps around each tree or post corner as it had no sticky side. Most of the debris and larger pieces had been taken away and, except for some large pieces of glass and six long lines of black, it was almost as if he had never been in a crash.

After brushing himself off he walked slowly to the school so he could maybe call his parents and get to a class on time. He decided he was going to try and avoid the issue as much as possible until there was no more avoiding it, that way he wouldn’t be yelled at as much. As he walked the idea became so ingrained in his mind that he gave up the idea of calling his parents, or even letting anyone know he had made it to school on time, his teachers wouldn’t know to ask and so it was a good escape.

Outside the front door of the building, the little light that did make it through the clouds wasn’t nearly enough to keep the windows from looking more like mirrors pretending that their insides were really the outside world. Jack took a few seconds to looking into one of these mirrors, not caring who might be on the other side, and straightened himself. His black hair had been thrown about, so he parted it down the middle again. He had styled his hair in such a way so that the straight bangs came down to points almost poking his eyes. He began examining his shirt and worked down, straightening everything where there was lopsidedness but ignoring those places that he didn’t care about. According to him it was a very systematic ritual, one that was different every day.

When he was sure he had worked out the sloppiness in his appearance he walked to the nearest door to enter the school. Deftly he worked his way past the hall monitors so he could escape into his classroom unhindered. A clock showed 11:00, which meant his Psychology class was well under way. A big exam would be the perfect thing to draw his mind away from the possible repercussions his earlier endeavors could cause.

Mr. Higgins didn’t notice Jack’s entrance, which was just as well. The room was quiet save the scratches of pencils as they filled the bubbles on each individual Scan Tron sheets. Jack could tell there was some apprehension in the room besides the normal found during a given test. Maybe word had gotten around that he had been involved in an accident. After all, he was almost an hour and a half later than he had intended, which meant that at least one person would have glanced outside and see the crash site. Either way, everyone was so involved in their tests that they didn’t even take a chance to give him apologetic looks. Something Jack couldn’t quite decide how he wanted to react to. He didn’t know if he should be angry at his classmates’ lack of sympathy or relieved that he could indeed hide from the accident. As he sat down, his mind switched to the test and everything else got pushed backwards in his head, closer to the dull throb that didn’t want to go away.


Question 1: What is the task Inhelder and Piaget used to illustrate the differences between children in the Concrete Opreations stage and children in the Formal Operations stage?

Jack read this question and had to smile at its simplicity and only had to glance at the list of answers to know which bubble he should darken.

A. They covered an object to determine if the child understood “object permanence”

B. They used glasses and water to determine if the child had “abstract reasoning” skills.

C. They had conversations with children where they discovered the presence of “egocentrism”

D. There is no difference between the Concrete Operations stage and the Formal Operations stage.

Totally B.

It was a half hour later when the first person stood up to hand in their answers. James Finnel had always been the smartest kid in school. Her grade point average was a 3.8, only due to an unfortunate argument with Mrs. Schmidt, one of the English professors, about which annotation style was better, APA or MLA. Jack never learned who had the correct answer, he had been far too engrossed in the way James’ ass shook as she hopped up and down in frustration. Jack never asked her out, because her family was very strict about things like curfew or rules that would keep him from getting anywhere past holding hands between classes. That wasn’t the kind of relationship he envisioned himself having with anyone.

By this point, the test was getting difficult. He was losing track of the questions and confusing the answers in ways he had never done before. Every time he lost track of what the question was asking the pain in his head rushed to the forefront, and he had to stop testing momentarily to take deep breaths and regain control. Avoiding what had happened would have to take a back seat to trying to figure out what was causing this pain. Jack quickly finished the test, sometimes guessing the answer, because he couldn’t focus on what was being asked. The last two questions were the only two that he specifically stopped to answer: if he could finish the test on a high note he could at least feel good about himself.


Questions 49 and 50: The following question was offered as a distinction between a child in the Concrete Operations stage and a child in the Formal

Operations stage: “If all blue people live in a red house, are all people
who live in red houses blue?”

49) What would a child in the Concrete Operations answer?

50) What would a child in the Formal Operations answer?

A. Yes

B. No

C. People aren’t red or blue silly

D. Piaget did not ask this question to children of this stage

Jack froze, if he couldn’t answer this question right then something had to be wrong with him. Except, it was a silly question.

Why would anyone ask a question that talked about red or blue people? There are no such things as red or blue people.

For 49 he bubbled in d and for question 50 he bubbled in c. As he packed his things to go Jack noticed that there was only one other kid in the room with him: the quiet Spanish kid who was clearly slower than the rest since he could never keep up with the rest of the grade. Mr. Higgins didn’t say a word as Jack left, apparently he didn’t care that Jack had finished later than usual. After all, there was a valid reason as to why he was late.

The hall was still filled for passing period as Jack tried to make his way to the nurse. The throbbing pain had subsided somewhat, but he still felt it should be looked at. He was so involved in getting to his destination that he almost ran directly into James. She was trying to make her way across the width of the hallway, between the stream of people heading to their next class. Jack murmured an apology to the girl and moved around her so he could reach his destination.

“How was the test?” Jack turned around to answer the question but quickly closed him mouth. James hadn’t been talking to him, she had made it across and was leaning against the wall talking with her friend Kaila.

James stood almost a head taller than Kaila with straight brown hair clinging to the small of her back. Her hair was cut as though it wanted to frame that tight ass she supported. Her Asian skin contrasted with the brown hair in a way that was incredibly pleasing to the eye.

Kaila, on the other hand, was a short dumpy girl who didn’t have anything going for her that Jack could see. Her hair was a curly dirty blond that accentuated her pudgyness in an almost comical way. She wore sweatshirts all the time to try and hide the bubbler that she worked everyday to be rid of. “I thought it was easy, which means you probably got a hundred. Heck, even if it was hard you’d probably get a hundred.” Kaila’s whiney, high pitched voice bounced off the locker she was working on. Every few words she would glance at her friend to make sure she was still paying attention. “Why’d Mr. Higgins put that last question on the test? It seemed like he wasn’t even trying to screw with our minds like he usually does.”

“I know. Of course concrete operations children will say that blue and red people don’t exist, they can’t think of abstract things yet.” It felt as though James just punched him in the stomach.

But, they don’t exist! Why would someone even think of a question like that?

“Hey, did you hear what happened to Jack?” Again Kaila’s voice hit Jack and his thoughts were turned back to them. “He got in a car crash just outside the school. Some truck driver fell asleep behind the wheel.” James turned to the other girl and bent in to whisper something Jack couldn’t quite make out. “That’s mean! You can’t say that kind of thing, at least not so soon. You’ve got to wait at least until after the service.”

James sighed at her lost joke and relaxed against the wall once more. “Yeah I heard, his parents are in the principle’s office now. I heard they’re planning on making us go to some lame assembly because of it.”

Great, just because I get into a car crash, which wasn’t even my fault, the entire school is going to have to attend an assembly about “safe driving” or something. Figures. If I can get to my parents before they can convince the principle of anything maybe I can stop them.

Jack left the two shorter girls to talk about their own business. Forgetting about the pain in his head as he worked his way through the halls to the principles office. “Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson, I am sorry for what happened to your son and we will be happy to accommodate you. Does an assembly next week today sound good? That way we can do on a fairly significant day for the other students. Most of them still don’t know what the final outcome of the crash was.”

Man! I’m too late!

Quickly as he could Jack started formulating some sort of plan that would either prevent this assembly from occurring or keep the blame off of him. Either way he would have to confront his parents about the whole incident and get their take on it, so he waited outside the office door until the conversation began to dwindle. He could hear his parents stand up to leave.

As the three of them walked to Jack’s father’s car they all remained silent. Jack was too busy in his thoughts to strike up a conversation with his parents who seemed completely content walking in silence. As they reached the car Jack’s eye caught the brief reflection of the sun hitting his face.

The sun must know that I am here and has come to see me off.

He briefly turned to the sky to wave back to his friend but couldn’t find him behind all of the clouds that were still hanging in the sky.

As the three of them settled themselves in their seats Jack’s mother immediately began sobbing into her hands. Jack was surprised at this and didn’t know how to react. Thankfully his father rubbed the sobbing woman’s back to console her. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Mr. Ferguson stopped rubbing his wife’s back and turned to the keys that he had placed in the ignition switch.

The car burst to life and rumbled under Jack’s butt in a way that made him giggle. “The gas is low.” Mr. Ferguson said to the other people in the car. “I’ll refill it later today.” Jack noted that his father seemed more tired than usual, but it didn’t matter that much. The man at the gas station would make the car run right after he re-filled it. Then Jack and his dad could go out and play. Mr. Fergusson stopped at a stop light and rubbed his muscles to relax a little. “Think you could give me a back rub later?” Mrs. Ferguson nodded weakly. “Thanks honey.”

Jack watched the light intently knowing that when the bottom one showed green then his father could begin driving again. “Go dad go!” He yelled when the lights finally turned their appropriate color. Instead of going right away Mr. Ferguson hesitated. “Dad go!” Jack whined. Mrs. Ferguson placed her palm on his shoulder and it was only then that he began driving again.

He sighed and looked at his wife briefly before turning back to watch his driving. “I’m sorry…I…” Jack’s mom shushed him and looked out the window to keep from thinking about something. Jack squealed happily at his friend, the sun, as he smiled down on them before the bad clouds plugged the hole the sun had made for himself. The rest of the trip was in silence as Jack eagerly waited for the sun to work his way through the clouds to say hello once more.

As they came closer to the house Jack noticed that there were more cars parked outside the house than he remembered last time. People were milling about outside waiting for something to happen. Most of the faces he saw were of exhausted or sad expressions. “Mommy, what’s going on?” Jack asked suddenly. He stopped looking for Mr. sun and turned his entire attention to the people standing around. “Why are there so many people at our house? Did something happen?” Mrs. Ferguson ignored him and instead waited for Jack’s dad to park the car.

When he got out Jack ran up to all the people, waved, and moved on before they could react. Everyone he knew was there for the party. Jack even caught a glimpse of the strange lady down the street who always gave his mom strange advice, like how to grow the flowers in their garden. To Jack there was no reason to help something to grow, things grew because they grew and nothing else helped. She was a weird lady and so was the only one that Jack did not waive to.

When he finally got to everyone else Jack went inside and was surprised to find the living room filled with a large box surrounded by white flowers. Jack ran up to it and tried to look to see what was inside but couldn’t get high enough. “I bet there’s nothing in there.” He muttered to himself but ran to get a stool just in case.

The stool was just high enough that he was able to peak over the edge of the wooden box. Inside a boy slept, his hair was parted down the center almost poking him in the eyes had they not been closed. “Mommy? Who that?” Jack turned to his mom and pointed but she was too busy to take notice. “Why sleep?” He poked the older boy in the eye but nothing happened. “Wake up!” He poked the other boy’s eyes harder but nothing happened.

To ensure that what he was doing was right he poked his face. He felt his finger and reasoned that the other boy should too. “I believe it is time.” A solemn voice said from next to his mom. Jack looked over to see the Reverend of his church standing next to his crying mother. “If you need a second, but we really must begin. I know this is hard.” Jack’s mom stared blankly at the wooden box as if she was unsure of what to do. “May we begin?” The Reverend’s voice was quiet and Jack wanted to know why they insisted on letting the boy sleep in his living room.

Jack’s father stepped forward and was the one to place his palm on his spouses shoulder this time. It was all she needed and Mrs. Ferguson nodded for the reverend to do what he needed to. Reverend Pince slowly walked up next to Jack and said a prayer under his breath before closing the lid. Jack looked up to the man standing next to him with wide eyes then back to the closed wooden box. “Where boy go?”

Later that evening Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson were standing on their porch looking up into the stars. Only a few could be seen as the smaller ones were drowned out by a nearby cities’ nightlights. “Excuse me.” The strange woman from down the street stood a few feet from them. Their gaze flowed to her without actually changing focus as they waited for her to move on and leave them alone. “You’re son, I am sorry that he is gone.” They nodded in acceptance of her condolences. “The last words he ever said still ring true in my ears.”

The attention of the mother was drawn away from her saddens, maybe there was something in what this women had to say that might bring her closure. After all, she had always been right about the flowers. “What did he tell you? What did he say that you would think it important we know?”

The strange old lady smirked at the mother. “I never said you should know what he said, it would bring you no closer to finding the answers you so desire. I will say, though, that despite what you may think, he has learned more than you can expect. He passed on fulfilled and with an innocent hope that you and I could only hope for.”

Jake’s mother and father never understood the meaning in the women’s words. They spent the rest of their lives fighting for a closure that never came. They fought legally and emotionally and religiously for a reason as to why this had to occur. They never found their answers.

It never dawned on them that they could have simply reflected over the life of their son and discover what the old lady meant about the innocent hope.