I got a lot of looks from the other students as I passed them in the halls all day long. By noon the absence of Larry and the condition of my face and wrist had given birth to a multitude of rumors. My favorite one was that I’d killed Larry and buried him in the snow where no one would find him until sometime in the spring when the snow all melted. There were actually several equally good variations of that rumor, but I’ll spare you from having to read about them here.
I got to the lunch-line well ahead of the gang and was already eating when they came out with their trays.
“Hey guys!” I called out to get their attention.
As Bertha, BB and Fish sat down Bertha asked me with all sincerity, “I’m going to ask you straight out. Did you whack Larry?”
Chocolate milk nearly shot out of my nose when she asked me that. “Did I whack Larry? Have you been watching The Godfather or Goodfellows?” I coughed as I tried to talk and swallow at the same time.
“Don’t change the subject. Nobody has seen or heard form Larry for days now and you turn up looking like Wladimir Klitschko!” Bertha said, still standing there holding her lunch tray.
Almost in unison Fish, BB, and I asked, “Who is Wladimir Klitschko?”
Bertha snapped at us, “Shut up!”
I sniggered as I replied, “Do you really want the truth?”
I could see the veins in her neck engorging with blood as her anger slowly built.
Finally to break the tension and also to get my neck off the chopping block I placed my left hand over my chest and raised my bandaged right hand as if I were a boy scout. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good… errrr,”
Fish chuckled so I knew at least he had picked up on the Harry Potter reference.
I continued, “I mean I solemnly swear that I did not whack Larry. Furthermore I can guarantee you that he is not buried in the snow, hidden in my locker, or chopped up and put into today’s lunch.”
That last part was funny because it was mystery meat Friday at Boyd Junior-High School. The menu at the start of the lunch line had said it was supposed to be meatloaf, but I’ve never seen meatloaf that looked like what they were serving us.
I’m really not sure if the gang believed me or not about Larry, but I guess it didn’t matter. The four of us ate our lunch together and then went our separate ways. The remainder of the school day was completely uneventful and totally boring. It was so boring that I forgot to stop to use the bathroom on the way to my last class. Despite the fact that I was wearing a diaper under my clothes I still made sure to stop and pee between every stinking class that day. There was one time before lunch when I didn’t need to pee and had to force myself. I grunted, and bore down on my bladder with my stomach muscles to make myself go. Luckily I had been sitting on the toilet at the time because as I was trying to squeeze out a few drops I also made myself poop.
I guess going pee so much made it so that my bladder shrunk a little, because ten minutes after the bell rang, indicating the start of my last class, I started to feel a twinge of pressure. By the middle of class I was squirming in my seat, trying to find a position that helped to relieve some of the pressure. Oh sure I was wearing the diaper Mom had forced me to wear that day, but I was resolved that I was going to show Mom that I didn’t need them during the day. I wanted to arrive home from school and show her that I’d kept it dry all day long. One of my motives for this was that I didn’t want to go to the school dance wearing a diaper, which I was sure Mom would make me do unless I could show her that I didn’t need it.
“Alvin! Stop wiggling around and pay attention.” My teacher said. She might as well have told everyone to stop paying attention to her and stare at me for the remainder of the class.
There was about fifteen minutes left in the day and though I was really trying to hold it, I finally felt as though I couldn’t wait any longer. I raised my hand and waited for our teacher to call on me.
“Yes Alvin?” She sounded irritated for being interrupted.
“Can I use the bathroom please?” I asked.
“No, class is nearly over.” She said.
Despite having been told to sit still, I couldn’t help fidgeting. I did my best not to think about needing to pee. Each tick of the minute hand on the wall clock seemed to add to the pressure growing inside of me.
Finally the last bell rang and I jumped out of my seat.
“You have not been dismissed yet!” our teacher shouted, but I didn’t stop. While racing for the door I swung my backpack over my shoulder.
“Alvin, sit back down!” she shouted louder.
I could hear everyone else in the class laughing and out of the corner of my eye I could see our teacher coming toward me. However, before she could grab me I threw open the door and jumped into the hallway. Students were already spilling out of the other classrooms and I had to fight my way to the boys’ room. When I got there it was packed with a line that stretched all the way out the door.
“Oh geez man!” I moaned.
And then a hand snatched my shoulder from behind.
“What are you thinking young man?”
I spun around to see my teacher staring down at me with nostrils flaring and fangs bared.
I pulled away to try to free myself from her talon like grip, but when I did she reached out with her other hand and grabbed my sore wrist. Until that moment it hadn’t really been bothering me, but when she grabbed it, it felt like I’d just stuck my finger into a light socket. Don’t ask me how I know what that feels like either because I won’t tell you!
My knees gave out and buckled under me which only hurt my wrist more as she tried to pull me back up. I’d already forgotten about my need to pee, mostly because I’d already wet myself.
I didn’t actually see what happened to my teacher. I only remember that my teacher released my arm and fell backward, landing on her boney butt. When I looked up another teacher was standing there, one I hadn’t seen before and beside her was Stacks. The other teacher was holding Stacks back and Stacks was looking at my teacher on the floor with deadly eyes.
Apparently Stacks had been right there and saw that the teacher was hurting me so she came to my rescue and put that teacher on her can.
I guess a lot of the students don’t like my teacher because they all cheered Stacks for pushing her off me. I also learned that the other teacher, the one holding Stacks back had seen the whole ordeal too and was about to intervene on my behalf, but Stacks beat her to it.
Stacks and I were hauled to the Principal’s office and on the way we passed Bertha. I quickly called to her, “Bertha! My grandfather is outside. Go tell him to come to the office quick!”
Bertha didn’t even hesitate. She rushed down the hall toward the doors without her coat or gloves, knocking other students out of her way much the way a football player would.
I guess Grandfather isn’t as slow and old as most old people because he showed up less than two minutes after Stacks and I entered the office.
Completely ignoring my ranting teacher, I told Grandfather exactly what had happened and I didn’t have to tell him that I wet myself because I could read in his eyes that he had already guessed that much for himself when I had told him why I left the class so fast.
When the Principal came out of his office to see what was going on he paused, smiled and then greeted my grandfather as though he were greeting a long lost brother.
“Al, how the heck have you been?” the Principal said while aggressively shaking Grandfathers hand and giving him a fast other armed hug.
“Carl, you sorry old dog! How long has it been?” Grandfather asked him and I had to look at my Grandfather twice. He had the biggest, toothiest grin. Actually, with that smile he didn’t even look like my Grandfather.
“Oh, entirely too long!” the Principal said.
Grandfather then asked him, “How’s the wife and kids?”
“Marietta is down in Florida taking care of her father who just celebrated his ninety-eighth birthday.” The Principal leaned in slightly, “and get this, Dusty is getting married in June.” The Principal said, still shaking Grandfathers hand.
Grandfather belly laughed like I’ve never seen or would have thought him capable, “Married? Again? How many times does this make it for him?”
The Principal scratched his temple, “Uh, five or six I believe. Ah, I stopped counting after the third. Still no kids though. I guess that’s one positive out of it all. No kid needs to be put through that sort of mess.”
“And what about Stephanie?” Grandfather asked.
“Still married to that same Navy boy. She’s still with Boxco and works too much. But try to tell her that and she’ll give you an ear full. Would you believe that she found time to have two more girls?” The Principal said.
Grandfather looked amused at this information, “But didn’t she already have three girls?” he asked.
“Yes sir! It’s no wonder that husband of hers is always shipping off to some war halfway around the world.” The Principal said.
They finally released each other’s hands as the Principal asked, “So what brings you to my little slice of heaven?”
Grandfather put a hand on my back behind my shoulder blades and began rubbing in small circular motions. “My young grandson here.” He said, giving me a prideful pat on the back.
“Grandson? I didn’t know Melody had kids!” The Principal said with honest astonishment.
“Sure did! Just the one. Oh about ten years ago!” Grandfather said and I quickly corrected him, not even attempting to hide my disgust that Grandfather got my age wrong.
“I’m almost twelve!” I inserted.
Grandfather stopped rubbing my back and instead clutched my shoulder rather securely.
“Quiet!” he said in odd agreement while giving me a disapproving glance for interrupting him. I took that look to mean, that I was supposed to close my mouth and keep it shut. I suppose I had forgotten, that according to him, children shouldn’t be seen or heard. How could I have forgotten?
Grandfather then noticed that I was still clutching my wrist to my chest. “You okay boy?” he asked.
I nodded and answered him with, “Yes sir, I think so…” and I didn’t even attempt to hide my disdain as I pointed at my teacher and added, “no thanks to her.”
Grandfather loosened his grip on my shoulder and then directed me to a wooden bench under the window beside the door to the office. That’s when I saw that Bertha, Fish, and BB were all standing in the hallways, outside of the office, looking in.
“Go sit down over there for a moment, boy.” Grandfather strongly suggested.
The Principal asked Stacks to join me and then he, the two teachers, and my Grandfather all disappeared in the office that the Principal had just come out of.
Before I sat down I gave Bertha a wave of thanks for getting my Grandfather for me so quickly. I’ve no idea if she understood why I was waving, but she smiled and waved back.
As Stacks sat down she smiled. “I can’t believe she did that to you!”
“Yeah,” I said and then Stacks told me how she had shoved my teacher.
“She’s the one I was telling you about. The one, that has it out for me.” Stacks informed me.
“Really? Bet that felt good.” I commented with a small chuckle.
“Yeah, felt great!” she chuckled too.
“So, what happened to you anyway?” She asked, referring to my stitches and my wrist.
“Got in a fight the other day.” I said, before I realized I’d even said it.
“Oh so that was you?” she asked.
I could hear loud voices coming from the office, but I couldn’t make out what was being said or who was saying it.
I asked Stacks, “What do you mean?”
“Oh well, nothing,” she said and I was too mad at the teacher to bother pushing Stacks on the subject.
“I hope they fire that…” Stacks shocked me when she used a very colorful word to describe our teacher.
“Even if you didn’t have that sore arm, no teacher should ever grab someone like that, especially someone as little as you.” She sounded like she was getting angrier the more she talked and amazingly enough, I let the wise crack about my size pass without comment. I guess to someone like Stacks, someone like me would seem like the runt of the littler.
It suddenly occurred to me that this made the second time that Stacks had come to my rescue. The first time had been after my initial run in with Larry, BB, and Fish on my first day of school here.
