Mayhem, Murder and the PTA

by Dave Cravens

  Heller droned on, as Parker continued to recite her speech. “We owe it to our children to ensure they can learn in a safe and productive environment.” they spoke together.

  Parents joined in a chorus of “Shhhhhh!” to shame Parker into silence.

  “Fine!” Parker shot back in an excited whisper. Feeling the focused heat of stares, she retreated deeper into the playground when her phone suddenly blasted with the chorus of “Living on a Prayer.”

  More angry glares and “Shhhhhh’s” followed Parker as her fingers fumbled for the phone in the mousetrap that was her purse. Not wanting to attract any more attention, Parker slinked further toward the back, hoping the derelict parents that likely hung out there might be more tolerant of her antics. When Parker detected the rude whispers of other folks on their phones, she knew she’d found a safe space.

  Parker glanced at her missed call. It was Jerry, her former editor from the American Times, now playing the role of the dickhead who didn’t fight for her job. Parker stared at his number angrily, when her finely trained ears tuned into some gossip trading behind her.

  “No, no, no,” a man whispered. “She’s a clumsy kind of hot. Like in an Amy Schumer, or Meghan Trainor kind of way.”

  Parker’s eyes burned. Who are they talking about? She didn’t want to turn her head and let on she was eavesdropping. She slowly lifted her phone, thinking she might use the reverse camera for a subtle peek.

  The man continued. “The way that skirt is hugging her ass? Yup. I would tap that!”

  Oh hell, thought Parker. He better not be talking about me.

  Heller’s voice droned on. “—which is why we encourage all parents to become a part of our school. Join the PTA. Get involved with your children.”

  Parker was barely paying attention to Heller anymore, only the whispers behind her. A woman joined in.

  “Are you kidding? Her skirt is crying it is so stretched right now! And that top is practically strangling her,” the woman corrected. “The ensemble is at least three sizes too small. Ten bucks says she shows up tomorrow in a t-shirt and sweat pants.”

  That’s what I was going to wear today!

  Parker’s phone suddenly vibrated in her hand from another incoming call, startling her into dropping it. The phone rattled on the black top as Bon Jovi informed everyone they should ‘take his hand, because he swears they’ll make it this time.’ Parker cursed as she bent over to pick up the phone, hoping she wouldn’t split her skirt in half.

  “Oh, wow, thank you for that view,” whispered the woman sarcastically.

  “It’s gonna be a great day!” said the man.

  They are talking about me!

  6.

  In a fit of righteous anger…

  Parker turned off her phone, tossed it in her purse and spun around with a clenched fist to greet her judges. The first was a tall, thin man with a thick moustache, a Hawaiian shirt and skinny jeans who looked like a poor man’s version of Magnum PI. The second judge came in the form of a bleached blonde bombshell with an orange tinted tan. The woman’s athletic build hinted that her choice of expensive active wear wasn’t just for show. She was in tip-top shape. But if it came down to a brawl, Parker calculated Blondie wouldn’t expect a hard punch to the boob followed by an eye gouge.

  For now, Parker chose to unload on the unlikely pair with her words. She started with the Blonde. “You won’t like the view when I ram my foot so far up your ass you’ll be coughing up Jimmy Choo’s for a week.” And then to Mr. Moustache. “And you! Meghan Trainor? Are you fucking kidding me? You’re old enough to be her father!”

  The ends of the man’s moustache curved up into an alarmingly white smile. “But never too old to be her ‘daddy,’ am I right?” He lifted his hand in hopes to receive a high five from anyone who might be listening. “Don’t leave me hanging now.”

  “Gross!” giggled the blonde. “Glory, you are hopeless!”

  Glory – is that this creep’s name?

  Glory and the blonde could barely contain their giggling despite the sheer anger radiating off Parker’s body. When the pair finally realized Parker wasn’t smiling, they tried to settle down. “Oh, relax, we’re just having fun,” explained the woman. “We know we’re terrible people. We judge everyone. It’s just how we pass the time when Heller goes off on one of her—” the woman paused. Her eyes lit up as she studied Parker’s face. “O-M-G! Parker? Parker is that you?”

  Parker squinted. Strip twenty years off the blonde, lose the tan and change her hair to a deep brown and you had – “Julie Kimball?” gasped Parker. Julie Kimball was Parker’s classmate for nearly every grade in her academic career, beginning with Oak Creek Elementary. They were never close friends but became well acquainted having spent so many years going to the same schools.

  “It is you!” squealed Julie at the top of her lungs. The squeal was so loud that Principal Heller stopped her speech mid-sentence, punctuated by a loud microphone squawk that nearly deafened the entire audience.

  “Is there a problem back there?” asked Heller, stretching over her podium to see to the back of the playground. “I heard a commotion. Do you need assistance? I heard some kind of scream.”

  All eyes turned to look at Glory, Julie and Parker. Parker sighed. Please don’t lump me in with these two.

  “No scream, just a squeal of delight! Sorry!” yelled Julie. “Ran into an old friend! Everyone, this is Parker Monroe!” Julie lifted her hand over Parker’s head to point down on her. “She’s new here! Kind of! Be sure to give her and her family a warm Oak Creek welcome! That’s Parker Monroe! Remember that name! Sorry! Carry on! Carry on!”

  Heller nodded. “Thank you for that delightful introduction Ms. Kimball,” said Heller. “And as for you, Parker Monroe—welcome back.”

  The words nearly sent chills up Parker’s spine. Those were the same words Heller would use during Parker’s visits to detention. Parker’s list of offenses was long and distinguished, not the least of which was coining Heller’s nickname: “Old Yeller Heller.”

  Does she remember me?

  Principal Heller moved on with her speech. “As I was saying—"

  Parker shook her chills loose as she turned back to Julie. “Holy shit, Julie, what are you doing with this creep?” She jammed her thumb in Glory’s direction.

  Julie laughed. “Glory? Oh, he’s harmless. And he’s the best plumber in town. That’s how we met.”

  “I’m good with the pipes,” added Glory. “All kinds of pipes.”

  Parker couldn’t help but to notice Glory taking long peeks at her over-exposed cleavage. Parker tried to pull her suit jacket together and button up, but the tight fit made it impossible. She settled for a verbal swipe. “Oooooh, a plumber with a moustache! How original.”

  “Ouch,” said Glory. “But I won’t take it personally. In fact, I’m going to put you on my personal list to earn a special Glory discount for all your plumbing needs. You’re welcome.”

  Parker had to swallow whatever bit of breakfast she had just regurgitated.

  Julie grimaced. “Wait, is this some kind of MILF discount list?”

  “I have a very complex ranking system.” Glory raised his phone, proudly displaying a list of names and numbers. “Don’t worry, you’re on the list.”

  Julie wagged a finger at her friend. “First, I am disgusted you keep such a list. Second, I better be at the top of that list, because I don’t work out three hours a day to come in second at anything.”

  “—and so, let us all work together for a brighter future. Have a great first day of school everyone. You are dismissed!” Heller finally concluded.

  Julie pumped her fist into the air like a cheerleader, pretending as though she’d heard the entirety of Heller’s speech. “Gooooo, Oak Creek!” Then to Parker. “I gotta say goodbye to my kids. Let’s get coffee sometime!” And just like that, Julie and Glory disappeared into the dispersing body of parents, leaving Parker to shake her head.

  What the hell
just happened?

  Parker wasn’t sure if seeing Julie again was a blessing or a curse, even without the Glory factor. Regardless, if Parker was to slam-dunk her first-first day of school experience as a doting mother she’d better say goodbye to her own kids. Parker scanned the crowd to see if she could catch one last glimpse of either of her kids as they walked with their class lines to their homerooms. There, in the distance was Maddy, who glanced back for a split second before she turned away.

  Is she pretending she didn’t see me?

  Maddy disappeared around the corner.

  Parker turned to the first-grade lines and spotted Drew in the middle of his. He didn’t see her. Determined to end the morning on a high note, Parker raised her hand and shouted. “Drew!” she waved. “Drew!”

  Drew finally heard his mother’s call and turned to smile at her.

  The smile melted Parker’s heart and wiped away all the awkwardness of the morning. Not wanting the moment to end, Parker decided to play the same game she saw Drew and Valerie play earlier. She raised her hand and positioned her fingers into the shape of a pistol and aimed at her son. “Pow! Pow!” she popped excitedly.

  Drew laughed and aimed back with a pair of his own finger guns. “Pow! Pow! Pow!” he shouted back.

  Parker clutched her heart, determined to secure the Oscar nomination this time with an over the top performance that would make Jennifer Lawrence jealous. “You got me!” she cried and laughed.

  Drew laughed as he continued to shoot his mom.

  “You got me again!”

  Thank you for that, Drew.

  Parker waved goodbye one last time and turned to leave the playground, only to find the small but rigid form of Karen Heller blocking her way. “Oh!” Parker greeted in surprise. “Hello there!”

  Principal Heller slowly folded her arms. “Ms. Monroe,” she greeted coldly. “I’m afraid I need you and your son need to come with me.”

  7.

  “We have a zero-tolerance policy for guns,”

  explained Principal Heller from behind her large oak wood desk. The perfectly square office was not the one Parker remembered from her youth, but Heller’s steely gaze of unwavering judgement was all too familiar.

  Parker sat in a smaller chair alongside Drew, whose wide-eyes and trembling shoulders were the only clues he hadn’t yet died of shock. Despite her son’s terror, Parker kept her cool and armed herself with her best version of a charming smile to help clear up whatever was going on. “No guns at school,” she concurred. “I completely agree. So, what is the problem?”

  Heller kneaded her hands together and placed them on her desk. “You and your son shot each other with guns.”

  Parker’s smile widened. “We pretended to shoot each other with our fingers.”

  “Fingers that were made to look like guns.”

  Parker couldn’t help but to have a small chuckle. “Sure, but they weren’t actual guns. We were just playing.”

  “Zero tolerance includes all guns, Ms. Monroe,” argued Heller. “Even play guns. A gun, is a gun is a gun.”

  “Except when it’s not a gun, and it’s a hand with fingers.” Parker aimed her fingers at Heller to illustrate the point, but quickly realized it only served to irritate her more. She clumsily transitioned her hands into jazz hands. “I can do many things with these fingers, see?” Parker deftly arranged her fingers into various puppets. “I can make a rabbit with ears. A duck. A heart.” I can even flip you the bird if I wanted to.

  Heller sighed. “Did you not shoot at your son, Ms. Monroe? Did he not gleefully fire back? In front of everyone on my playground?”

  “Well, in a manner of speaking, I suppose we did, but it’s no more dangerous than a metaphor or a song.” Parker snapped her fingers as she attempted the chorus to an old favorite. “You know—‘shot through the heart, and you’re too blame! You give love—a bad name!’ Yes? No? That ring a bell? Bon Jovi? Surely you’ve heard of Bon Jovi?”

  Heller’s cold eyes did not so much as blink.

  Parker sat back in her chair, which felt tinier by the second. “Maybe that was before your time.” You know, the Dark Ages. I shouldn’t have snapped. Who snaps to a Bon Jovi song? That’s lame.

  “Zero tolerance, Ms. Monroe,” chided Heller. “Guns are not allowed in any form, even in play form, and we don’t want to encourage guns in a school setting. Both you and your son violated a strict rule. An example must be made.”

  Drew carefully leaned over to this mother and whispered to her out of the corner of his mouth. “Am I in trouble?”

  “What? No!” Parker insisted. Her blood began to boil. “Don’t be ridiculous!” Parker clenched her fist. She’d tried being polite, but that didn’t seem to be getting her anywhere. It was time to ratchet things up. Parker straightened her posture and leaned forward, ready to tear into Heller when Heller’s cell phone suddenly buzzed alive.

  The principal glanced at the screen. “I must take this.” Her wrinkled, liver spotted claw of a hand put the phone to her ear. “Yes?”

  Parker could hear a muffled voice responding.

  Heller’s eyes darted anxiously from side to side. “You found a car parked in our driveway? A Toyota Highlander?”

  You gotta be shitting me.

  The muffled voice on Heller’s phone continued.

  “It’s blocked you in?” asked Heller, her tone growing icier with each word. “No, I didn’t tell anyone they could park there. Yes, I understand you’re late to the doctor’s. But what can I do about it? Call the Sheriff. Report it. Have it towed. I don’t know what else to tell you. Yes. Call me when it’s done.” Heller pushed a button to end the call, and then looked around as if searching for a place to slam the phone into a cradle like the good old days. When she couldn’t find one, she drew in a deep breath and retrained her eyes back on Parker, who offered a nervous smile back.

  Fuck! There goes my moral high ground.

  Drew shifted in his seat. “Mom, that sounds an awful like—”

  “Some people,” interrupted Parker as she patted Drew on the back – hard. “Parking in driveways they shouldn’t. Soooo rude. You’re going to have it towed, huh?”

  “Why—is it yours?”

  Parker froze, and then did her best to look offended by the suggestion.

  Heller watched Parker like an FBI interrogator waiting for the pupils to dilate. Finally, she let out a sinister chuckle. “I’m only kidding, Ms. Monroe. I think you’d be smarter than to do that.”

  Parker titled her jaw awkwardly as though recovering from a strong right jab.

  “You were always a bit of a spitfire, Ms. Monroe.” Heller looked at Drew. “Your mother used to cause me quite a bit of trouble during her time here.”

  “She did?” asked Drew.

  “I would hate to see you fall in the same pattern. We don’t allow guns in school young man, pretend or otherwise. But you’re new, so I’m going to let you off easy with a one-day suspension.”

  Drew’s eyes popped open. “Suspension? What is that?” he asked his mother. “Is that bad?”

  8.

  Parker exploded out of her chair.

  “It’s his first day of school!” she spat. “Hell, it’s his first day of elementary! Ever!”

  Heller’s smile faded. “There is no need to raise your voice, Ms. Monroe. I am not the one who demonstrated such awful judgement. Guns are a serious offense.”

  “Mom?” Drew cried, his eyes welling up with tears.

  Parker swallowed her words to keep from raising her voice. “Principal Heller, Drew did nothing wrong. He was only following my lead in a silly game we play at home.”

  “Ms. Monroe, I have no authority to punish you, other than to inform you of the error of your judgement, poor behavior and even poorer choice of wardrobe for a school setting.”

  Parker clenched her fist. “I lost a button, okay?” she explained. “Listen, Principal Heller, I’m begging you, give Drew some kind of warning, or community service or
whatever you want, anything, anything but starting his academic career with a suspension! Surely, as someone whose job it is to develop young minds you can see how much over-kill this is!”

  Heller blinked. Was she considering the idea? Before she could answer, there was a knock at the door. Heller’s eyes darted to the young Latina woman in magenta who casually strolled into the office as though she owned it. Parker recognized her as the woman who stood behind Heller during the Flag Assembly. The woman was immaculately groomed, and her suit was in the same cut as Parker’s – only it fit her young, slender frame perfectly. “Vice Principal Heller,” the woman greeted. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need my office back to make some important phone calls.”

  Parker’s eyes widened. Holy fuck! Vice Principal Heller?

  If Heller were capable of blushing, this might have been the moment. But instead the ends of her wrinkled mouth turned slightly downward into a frown. “Principal Mendez,” she greeted. “Ms. Monroe and I were just discussing the inappropriate behavior displayed by her and her son on school grounds.”

  “I’m sure you’ve been very thorough,” said Mendez. “Have you met with Mr. Bernstein like you said you would?”

  “No,” Heller replied coolly.

  “Then I guess we both have things to do,” decided Mendez. “I’ll finish up with Ms. Monroe.” She gently leaned toward Drew with a smile. “And it’s probably time this young man went to class. We don’t want you to fall behind on your first day, now do we? Vice Principal Heller can show you the way before she follows up with Mr. Bernstein.” She turned to Parker. “Ms. Monroe, I’d appreciate it if you stayed a moment after the others leave.”

  Relieved, Drew smiled and wiped his tears away. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  “Off you go,” said Mendez. Then to Heller. “Both of you.”

  Drew gave his mother a squeeze before grabbing his Plants vs. Zombies backpack and heading to the door to wait for Heller. The Vice Principal slowly stood up from the desk and walked over to join him, not so much as glancing in Parker’s direction. “Come with me, Ms. Monroe,” ordered Heller.