I'm taking a mechanics class. I'm in a wheelchair. I ask permission to open the hood of the car we're working on and try to diagnose where or if there is engine trouble. The teacher sneers and says, "Sure, go ahead and try" (we haven't covered this in class yet). So I look at the engine. I turn knobs and pull dipsticks out. I have trouble deciding if the engine is l quart low or not and do the dip stick twice. I decide it's l qt. low. I'm doing well, to the teacher's and class's amazement. Then the engine is on and there are sparks and little zigzags of electricity. The teacher goes in and crawls on the engine. I say, "Be careful." Later, he is walking away from me and has my journal book. I race up to him yelling, "If you don't give me my journal, I'll take this hammer and pound in your fucking head." I sufficiently scare him and he gives me the journal.