Premonitions

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Premonitions Page 12

by Daniel Ormont


  “Nonsense. You’re tardy. Technically speaking? Delinquent.”

  “I am not a delinquent, I’m just late!”

  “Never mind! Get moving!”

  “Right…”

  “Tardiness breeds laziness.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.”

  “Please do. I will not tolerate tardiness…especially after recess!”

  “Recess? Whew, I thought you meant—”

  The woman tapped the tip of her nose. “Punctuality, my boy, punctuality!”

  That was close. The boy unclenched his tongue. Her ignorance is my bliss!

  “Hurry up I before you get marked absent!” Mrs. Fishbine vacated the locker nook in a huff.

  Lucky for me, I’m already absent! …She’d have to mark me present!

  “Any day now, Daniel!”

  C’mon lunchtime…

  Unfortunately, one class stood between Danny and lunch – Mrs. Fishbine’s class.

  Reading Class:

  The students funneled into Mrs. Fishbine’s class and quickly took their seats. Danny ogled Patti like a lovesick pup. The girl paid him no mind, preoccupied with greater matters. Good grades were top priority to Patti – at any cost. Gazing at Mark, she feared her accomplice lacked the skills to execute her perfect plan. The smallest mistake could jeopardize her mission to skate through the school year.

  “As you know,” Mrs. Fishbine began. “There will be a test tomorrow.” Spirits sank. Groans filled the classroom.

  “Tomorrow?” a boy objected. “Tests are supposed to be on Fridays!”

  “Good students are always prepared, William!”

  “We’re good…just not that good!”

  “Don’t act surprised.”

  “Geez, a midweek test? That’s a low blow…”

  “Billy!” Mrs. Fishbine pounced. “I mean, William…is your arm broken?”

  “No, but…”

  “Then, your mouth must be stuck in overdrive. Stand up!” The unsuspecting boy obeyed her command. “Now, child, I shall teach you to raise your hand.”

  “Poor Billy.” Danny whispered to Andy, shaking his head in pity. “Another victim of Fishkill…”

  “Now, William, what were you going to ask?”

  The feebleminded boy was quick to take the bait. “Will we review…”

  “Shame, shame!” Mrs. Fishbine teased in singsong manner. “You didn’t raise your hand!”

  His arm rocketed skyward. His unfurled hand flapped furiously in the teacher’s face. But, Mrs. Fishbine let him stew.

  “Have a heart, woman,” Danny muttered. “The kid’s ok, but his mouth’s a menace.”

  The evil woman relished in delight watching her prey wriggle like a worm snagged by her fishhook. The boy’s face turned from pink to red to blue. His flesh resembled that of an eggplant by the time the naïve child got the message. Sweaty and defeated, he lowered his hand.

  “Oh, my! I’m sorry, William. I did not recognize you,” the lady sneered. “Now, what were you going to ask?”

  “N-n-nothing…” The exhausted boy was winded. “N-n-no f-f-further questions.”

  “That will teach you to raise your hand,” she croaked. “You may be seated.” His classmates did not dare to breathe.

  “Where was I?” She paced the floor, collecting her thoughts. “Oh, yes, let’s review the stories we—” The woman spied a hand. “Yes, Patricia?”

  Patricia??? Danny seethed. How dare the Fish sully her adorable name!

  “Mrs. Fishbine, I missed the first story, remember?”

  “I told you once. The story is in your reader, Patricia.”

  “Anyone dare call me Trish,” the girl muttered, “and I’ll puke!” Danny pretended to gag on his finger. Amused, Patti shot him a smile.

  “Don’t mumble, child…speak up!”

  “I said, uh…it must be a fluke! The last page is missing.”

  “Impossible! A page can’t be missing…”

  “Don’t tell me, tell my book.”

  “Patricia, these are brand new textbooks.”

  “See for yourself.”

  “Honestly, child!” Mrs. Fishbine groaned. “I wasn’t prepared for an imbroglio.”

  “A good teacher is always prepared,” Patti quipped.

  One infectious giggle sparked an epidemic. The children were awed by this sly girl who had outfoxed Mrs. Fishbine, defeating the teacher at her own game.

  “QUIET!!!” the woman thundered. “Get busy on the chapter review while I assist Patricia.”

  “Lollapaloozas!” Danny sighed. “Ole Worry Wart’s gonna peck out my liver. Peck, peck, peck…”

  The bewildered woman stormed towards Patti and clenched the rogue book in her quaking hands. She flipped several pages and huffed. Winking, the suspicious cyclops scrutinized every inch of the literary landscape as if it were a prop in a magic trick. She examined the cover and peered down the spine. Both were clean from telltale signs of abuse. The children worked diligently as the harried hag marched toward her closet. Once the lady’s back was turned, the class bully sprang into action.

  Mark yawned and stretched, propelling his chair toward the teacher’s desk. The nervous lady scolded her uncooperative hands as she wrangled with the storeroom lock. The jangle of keys filled the air. The mischievous boy sat sidesaddle, shuffling through the teacher’s papers. The hunched woman lectured her supply cabinet walls about the importance of responsibility. Mark searched frantically. The woman’s head surfaced from the closet. Mark claimed a manila folder labeled Unit Test. Patti bit her lip. The closet door latched closed. The brash boy swept the file from the desk and into a notebook resting in his lap. The clomping of high heels drew near. Mark whipped back around. The teacher eyed the class with suspicion. At last, the deed was done.

  “Now, Patricia…”

  “Huh?” The girl jumped, flushed with guilt. “What did I do?”

  “I never said you did anything. Here’s your new reader. Take good care of it.”

  “Oh, yes…thank you,” the scarlet girl sighed in relief. “I will.”

  “Mark? Mark!” The boy’s jaw scraped the floor. Mrs. Fishbine approached the boy. “Are you working hard, or hardly working?”

  “I, uh, uh, uh…”

  “Deep thoughts from deep minds.” Mrs. Fishbine settled into her desk chair. “Thank you, Mark the Orator.” Chuckles traversed the room. “I hear chitchat!” the teacher snapped, rooting through a stack of papers. “More workee, less talkee!”

  The submissive students succumbed to the yoke of their oppressive assignment once more. “It’s gone!” the teacher screeched; her feathers ruffled. “The test – it’s gone!” No one dared to breathe. “Who stole the test off my desk?” Mrs. Fishbine screamed. “It was right here!” The woman broke into a sweat. “Who took it?” A class of sullen eyes begged for mercy. “If no one admits to stealing the test, the whole class will be punished.” Her thunderous voice echoed off the cold walls. “I promise…you will have a week’s worth of punishment!” Not one student stirred. “Fine!” she snorted. “For starters, put your heads down on your desks!”

  Lunchtime:

  The arrival of lunch forced Mrs. Fishbine to release her hostages. A crowd formed in the locker nook. Frenzied children snatched their bagged goodies and scurried to the cafeteria. Patti pretended to rummage through her locker until the crowd dispersed. Mark did the same. At last, it was safe to rendezvous among the shadows for the secret drop.

  “I got it, Patti!” Mark waved a folder over his head. “Just as I promised. …So, pay up.”

  “Didn’t I tell ya she’d fall for it?”

  Mark attempted to embrace the girl. “Pay up, Patti!”

  “Whoa, slow down,” she giggled, pushing him away. “Give me the test, first.” Patti snatched at the folder, but Mark kept it just out of reach.

  “You’ll get what you want after I get what I want!”

  Patti took his right hand and clamped it against her chest all
owing Mark to fondle her young breast. “There!” Patti snapped, coldly. “Are you happy now?”

  Mrs. Fishbine was heading to Mr. Foster’s room when she heard a commotion in the locker nook. “Aaah!” Mrs. Fishbine caught Mark re-handed. “Leave her alone!”

  “Oh, Mrs. Fishbine!” Patti cried. “Thank goodness, you’re here! He attacked me!”

  “What??? I did no such thing!”

  “Mark, go to the Office!”

  “She’s lying!” Mark pointed with a manila folder.

  “Oh, really? And, what’s this?” Mrs. Fishbine snatched the folder from the culprit’s grasp. “It was Patti’s idea, I swear! Tell her, Patti! …Patti?”

  The two looked around, but Patti was nowhere to be found. In all the excitement, she had vanished from the scene.

  “That is so low…blaming an innocent girl!”

  “B-b-but, it’s true! I swear, she—”

  “You’re just sore I caught your hands on her goodies!”

  Afternoon Recess:

  The children rushed into the schoolyard. Andy fidgeted on the bench, anticipating the arrival of his friend.

  “Hey, look!” Andy bobbed his yo-yo. “Guess what I finally remembered to bring!”

  Danny buried his hands in his pockets and turned away.

  “Don’t be sore at me. …Be glad I found it!”

  With bowed head, the boy kicked at a rock embedded in the soil.

  “Geez, I said I was sorry. Don’t give me the silent treatment.”

  “It’s not you…”

  “What is it, then? You look like you lost your best friend.”

  “You might say that,” Danny collapsed onto the bench. “It’s Patti…”

  “What about her?”

  “She… She… She likes Mark Parks best.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Actually, I shouldn’t,” Danny whispered. He glanced at Andy then looked away. “Seriously, I shouldn’t know this, but….”

  “How can you possibly know something you shouldn’t know?”

  “Swear on your life, first.”

  “I swear, Mouse, ok? I swear! Do you want it written in blood?”

  “Just listen to me, will ya? …Remember I was late this morning?”

  “Yeah…so?”

  “Well, Patti and Mark were fooling around by the lockers, and…”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “Actually, it was Mark who did the fooling. Patti slapped him good!”

  “…Patti? …Slapped Mark?”

  “Doesn’t matter…” Danny stared at the dirt. “She said she likes him best.”

  Andy emitted a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s a shocker, all right. What else did she say?”

  Danny did not have the stomach to share what else he had overheard. “Isn’t that enough? I want to die.”

  “Did they know you were there?”

  “No, thank goodness. So, mum’s the word, got it?”

  “I already swore I wouldn’t talk, didn’t I?” Andy restated. “It’s our secret.”

  “How can she like him? He’s such a lizard!”

  “You mean, loser.”

  “Lizard, loser…what’s the difference?”

  “My life is over.” The heartbroken boy shriveled like a deflated sail. “She doesn’t even know I exist.”

  “Well, I’ve got some juicy news that’ll cheer you up.”

  “Nothing you could say can cheer me up.” Danny fought back the tears.

  “Mark Parks got suspended for a full week!”

  “Quit funnin’! I’m in no mood…”

  “It’s true. Didn’t you notice he was missing after lunch?”

  “I haven’t exactly been trackin’ that weasel.”

  “Mrs. Fishbine caught him red-handed. Can you believe it? That dolt stole the Reading test!”

  “Holy guacamole! He’d steal a blood test if he thought it’d help!”

  “…Or, at least stay up all night studying for one!”

  “Say, Andy?” Danny’s spirits soared. “…Do you know why they call it ketchup?”

  “Heck, I don’t know… Why?”

  “Would you eat something from behind?”

  “Ha, good one. No one would eat that!”

  “Well, well…Andy my boy!” The fragile child stretched, resting his hands behind his head.

  “Things couldn’t be more perfect!”

  “You got one week, Mouse,” Andy declared. “Better make your move – and fast.”

  “Geez, I’m so nervous. What do I say to her?”

  “Don’t flat-out spill your heart straight off.”

  “No?”

  “Ut-uh. Play it cool, see? Act like you’re doing her a favor.”

  “She’ll see right through that. I dunno…I gotta be me.”

  “Are you a man or a…oh, uh, never mind.”

  Danny’s eyes sparkled. “When the time’s right, it’ll just happen.”

  “One week, Mouse.” Andy bobbed his yo-yo. “Do it, or die.”

  “Can I try? Can I try?” It was Billy Thompson. “I’ve had enough kickball for one day.”

  “Sure!” Andy nudged Danny. “I’ll even teach you some tricks!”

  * * *

  Danny flew home that warm afternoon with his head riding high upon his shoulders. His heart was light as a feather. The news about Mark gave Danny an unexpected edge.

  “How am I going approach her?” Danny thought out loud. “I’ll grovel at her feet. …Hello, I’m Danny…” he practiced. “Geez, that’s dumb. She already knows that. …I’m Danny. Remember me?” his brain conjectured. “How corny!” he frowned. “That Fishbine’s tough…” he concocted. “Not bad, for openers.”

  The long walk home afforded Danny the opportunity to let his thoughts run wild. “Seriously, how do I get her to notice me?” Danny pondered, gazing at the horizon. “Set Pickles free again?” he laughed to himself. “That would get her attention.” Danny mulled over this dilemma until his head hurt. “I wish she wasn’t always hanging around with Cheryl,” Danny sighed. “If I could just catch Patti alone, and take her by surprise…” he grinned. “Gosh, it looks so easy on TV!”

  ZING! A stone grazed Danny’s ear. His guardian angel must have been watching over him that day. One inch more, and Danny shuttered to think what cemetery he’d be in right now.

  “You told on me, didn’t you?” Stinger popped out of the brush, tackling his adversary.

  The ambushed child buckled at the knees and sprawled upon the ground. Danny found himself staring into the black abyss of impenetrable lenses.

  “Get off me, you jerk!” Danny winced, wriggling under his adversary.

  “Why’d ya tell?” Stinger held his prey to ground; arms pinned overhead like a bug in an insect collection. Pain flashed along his lame arm. “Why’d ya tell?”

  He’s just a Snake. There’s nothing lower than a Snake.

  Stinger slapped Danny across the face, freeing the boy’s good hand in the process.

  “Answer me! Why’d ya—”

  Danny jabbed Stinger’s jaw. His holy sunglasses flew off his face, shattering into pieces.

  “You’ll pay for that, skunk!” Sledgehammer fists bludgeoned the weakling like a punching bag.

  Mayday! Mayday! Danny’s lungs deflated like two balloons. We’re going down, boys… Fighting off the crippling pain, he prayed the behemoth’s muscles would fatigue.

  “Ya… You…” Waves of hot breath, stinking of tobacco, smothered Danny. “Hah… Had… Enough?”

  The victim played dead, silently counting to three. “Happy Father’s Day!” Danny slugged the teen in the crotch.

  Breathless, Stinger jolted backward; excruciating trauma burned deep within. The roach reeled on his back and struggled to right himself. Grabbing his backpack, Danny ran like the wind – never looking back.

  CHAPTER XVI

  Mouse Jumps Over the Moon

  Danny sat at the breakfa
st table, mindlessly swirling his cereal. Obsessed with Patti, he had no appetite. “I’ve got to talk to her – alone,” he moped at his milky reflection. The mere thought of approaching the girl turned the boy’s guts into a squished doughnut with filling oozing out.

  “I gotta relax…get a grip!” His stomach was full of jumping beans. “It’ll happen!” he whispered. “When the time is right…”

  “Did yea hear me, Denny?” his mother called from the next room.

  “Hmmmm?” The boy grinned from ear to ear, lost in a euphoric stupor.

  “Yea feelin’ ok?”

  “Never better, Mum, why do you ask?”

  “Yea be acting strange…sure yea be a-feelin’ ok?”

  “I’m fine…” he said, gazing out the window. Those jumping beans danced the jitterbug. What magic words could win her heart?

  “Sakes alive, lad! Yea haven’t touched yer breakfast!”

  “No thanks…I couldn’t take another bite.”

  “Well, off yea go then, aye?” His mother set the kettle on the stove.

  “Can Dad give me a lift?”

  “Heavens, I told yea once! Father’s on business in Cleveland.”

  “Funny, he didn’t mention it at dinner.”

  “Aye, that he did. …Where’s yer head?”

  “Sorry, Mum. I got a lot on my mind.”

  “Honestly… What be a-weighin’ yea down?”

  “School stuff.” Danny poked at his soggy cereal. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “P’shah… Speakin’ of school, yea must participate more in class.”

  “What?”

  Mum rested a fruit bowl on the table. “Yea teacher, Mr. Foster is it?”

  “Yes, what about him?”

  “He feels yea know the science, but yea must be a-sharin’ more wit the class.”

  “I know, I know…” Danny drowned a crunchy cluster with his spoon.

  “Says yea be quiet as a mouse.”

  “I can’t find the words…”

  “Believe in yerself, lad. Speak up and be noticed!”

  “They’d just laugh at me…”

  “Pooh! If yea know it, show it.”

  “But, my belly ties in knots, my brain freezes, and I get tongue—”

  “Words flow best when a-spoken from the heart.”

  “Yes, Mum. I’ll try harder to get her attention…”

  “What’s that now, lad?”

  “His! His! I mean…I’ll get his attention!”

  “Remember, lad, good grades be no accident.”

  Danny rinsed his bowl. “I’ll do better.” He dried his hands on a dish towel. “So…what’s for breakfast?”

  “Boogers! Yea oughta be a-filled to the gills!” Mrs. Ormont dashed to the stove, slave to the kettle’s beck and call.

 

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