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Jack
had
seen
Denker
the
teacher
as
not
much
different
from
the
strutting
South
American
little
Caesars
in
their
banana
kingdoms
,
standing
dissidents
up
against
the
wall
of
the
handiest
squash
or
handball
court
,
a
super
-
zealot
in
a
comparatively
small
puddle
,
a
man
whose
every
whim
becomes
a
crusade
.
In
the
beginning
he
had
wanted
to
use
his
play
as
a
microcosm
to
say
something
about
the
abuse
of
power
.
Now
he
tended
more
and
more
to
see
Denker
as
a
Mr
.
Chips
figure
,
and
the
tragedy
was
not
the
intellectual
racking
of
Gary
Benson
but
rather
the
destruction
of
a
kindly
old
teacher
and
headmaster
unable
to
see
through
the
cynical
wiles
of
this
monster
masquerading
as
a
boy
.
He
hadn
’
t
been
able
to
finish
the
play
.
Now
he
sat
looking
down
at
it
,
scowling
,
wondering
if
there
was
any
way
he
could
salvage
the
situation
.
He
didn
’
t
really
think
there
was
.
He
bad
begun
with
one
play
and
it
had
somehow
turned
into
another
,
presto
-
chango
.
Well
,
what
the
hell
.
Either
way
it
had
been
done
before
.
Either
way
it
was
a
load
of
shit
.
And
why
was
he
driving
himself
crazy
about
it
tonight
anyway
?
After
the
day
just
gone
by
it
was
no
wonder
he
couldn
’
t
think
straight
.
"
-
get
him
down
?
"
He
looked
up
,
trying
to
blink
the
cobwebs
away
.
"
Huh
?
"
"
I
said
,
how
are
we
going
to
get
him
down
?
We
’
ve
got
to
get
him
out
of
here
,
Jack
.
"
For
a
moment
his
wits
were
so
scattered
that
he
wasn
’
t
even
sure
what
she
was
talking
about
.
Then
he
realized
and
uttered
a
short
,
barking
laugh
.
"
You
say
that
as
if
it
were
so
easy
.
"
"
I
didn
’
t
mean
-
"
