Cool School (4 page)

oming along the corridor is a kid who's got to be the smallest kid in the school. He's like a butter menthol with four limbs. When someone slams a door further down the corridor this kid almost gets blown over.

You give a deep sigh. He's not going to be much use. But he surprises you. He walks straight up and says, ‘What seems to be the problem here?'

He's got a big deep voice that gets your attention.

‘Uh, no problem,' you say. ‘Just this maniac here who thinks he owns the school.'

The little guy looks up at the refrigerator on legs who, you're amazed to see, is now hanging his head and looking a bit embarrassed.

‘Now now, Cedric,' he says, ‘that's enough. Go to class.' You nearly fall over when Cedric immediately shuffles away down the corridor.

‘Wow, how did you do that?' you ask.

He shrugs. ‘Not a problem. I know what Cedric values most in life, and I keep him supplied with it.'

You ask the obvious question: ‘What does Cedric value most in life?'

‘Basketball cards.'

‘Basketball cards?'

‘That's right.'

‘But. . .but how do you control the supply of basketball cards?'

‘I have special access to them,' he says mysteriously. ‘At the end of this week I'm considering giving Cedric an Abdul B.B. Amir card.'

‘Abdul B.B. Amir. Wow.'

You begin to realise that there's more to this kid than meets the eye. There'd want to be, because there's not much that meets the eye. As you start walking down the corridor together you ask him: ‘Who is Cedric anyway?'

‘Cedric's repeating for about the eleventh year. He's the oldest student in the school.'

‘Yeah, he looks it.'

‘What do you most value?' he asks you suddenly.

‘How do you mean?'

‘Well, for Cedric it's basketball cards. What is it for you? What would you be really excited to get your hands on?'

You're getting really weird vibes from this kid. Maybe he does have special powers or something. You hesitate, wondering what you should say.

r, hi Aunty,' you say to this dangerous-looking woman.

‘Well,' she says. ‘I think you'd better come to my office.'

You know you've been busted. The last mouthful of Iced Vo-Vo is sticking in your throat. You follow the Principal as she strides out of the staff room, along a quiet carpeted corridor to her office. She leads you in, tells you to sit down, then seats herself behind the desk.

‘Now,' she says. ‘I think you'd better tell me what this is all about.'

‘Er, what do you mean?' you ask weakly.

‘I mean, why did you say I'm your aunt, when I was an only child, my husband's sister isn't married, and I've never seen you before in my life?'

‘Your husband doesn't have a brother by any chance, does he?' you ask.

‘Try again,' she says.

So finally you tell her the truth.

‘This big kid was chasing me all around the school and I just ran into the first room I saw, and it was the staff room.'

‘And to explain what you were doing there you said I was your aunt?'

‘Yes, that's right,' you admit.

She asks you what the boy looks like, and you give a vague description.

‘Hmm,' she says. ‘Wait here a minute.'

She gets up and leaves the room. You sit there in fear, wondering what your punishment will be.

Five minutes later she returns. With her is the big guy who's been chasing you. He looks bigger and fiercer than ever and he glares at you like an angry buffalo who's been sitting on an ant nest for the last half hour.

‘Is this the boy you say has been terrorising you?' the Principal asks.

r, hello Aunt,' you say to her.

‘Well, hello dear,' she says. To your surprise she gives you a little dry peck on your cheek. Maybe you're going to get away with this after all!

‘Why don't you come to my office,' she says, ‘and I'll get you a cup of herbal tea.'

You follow her as she toddles along to the office. She leads you in and shuts the door. To your surprise she locks the door, takes the key out, and puts it in her handbag.

‘Why'd you do that?' you ask.

She gives a little chuckle. For the first time you notice her eyes. There's a little red spot in each one and, as you watch, the spots seem to get larger, fiercer. She pulls a knitting needle out of the ball of wool and advances towards you.

‘Sit down dear,' she coos, ‘and make yourself comfortable.'

‘But, but . . . what are you doing with the needle?' you ask.

‘Oh!' she laughs. ‘What a silly child! Don't you trust me?'

‘Gee,' you think. ‘That's a tough question. I'm not so sure that I do.'

But you can't tell her that. Can you?

he class sits there in stunned surprise. You glance around quickly.

Luckily there's no one you recognise. The teacher is looking at you suspiciously. She's still not sure whether you're who you claim to be. You clear your throat and speak, trying hard to sound confident.

‘Right, class, take out your textbooks.'

You don't even know what subject this is meant to be, but the class is so shocked that they actually do what you ask. You grab a book from the nearest student and look at the cover. It's called
The World Around Us
and it looks like Social Studies or Geography or something. ‘Turn to page one,' you say to the class, opening the book in a rush, trying to get to page one before they do. It seems to be a chapter about Africa.

You decide to bluff your way through.

‘OK, now, so what do we know about Africa?' you ask the students.

‘They're a good group,' someone says.

‘No, no, I don't mean the group,' you say, ‘I mean the country.' You look around for the teacher, but she's leaving. She's got her own class to go to. ‘So what do we know about Africa?' you ask again.

‘They speak African,' someone says.

‘Yes, very good. What else?'

There's a dull silence.

‘Are you really a teacher?' someone asks.

‘Hey, are you really a student?' you say.

‘You don't look any older than us.'

‘I was a child genius. They wheeled me to school in my pram. I was in high school before I was out of nappies. I was at university before I could tie my shoelaces.'

‘If you're a teacher,' a kid yells out, ‘can we have the rest of the period off?'