Chapter 5

“Elementary is four lines to your left,” said the busybody.

I fished out my pen and notebook and marked a diagonal line across a group of four designating another group of five. Every time someone told me I was in the wrong line ... I marked another line. This was similar to the style of counting that stretched back to the Paleolithic and beyond. Prisoners in jail do the same to make the passage of days. I was keeping track of the idiots.

The gym was as packed as one would expect of a K through Twelve school.

Little kids, medium sized kids, big kids and bigger kids ... all checking classes and books ... arranging class changes...”I want to be with her,” was heard in my line. Not me ‘her’ ... some other ‘her’.

And the drama queens, “I have to have second lunch or I’ll die.”

And things like...”NOT Mrs. Niegarth ... I had her last year ... she hates me.”

And, “Janice Olsen specifically specified NO classes with you.”

“But ... she’s my girlfriend.”

“Not any more.”

And the parents. “Shop is not an Academic Class. MY Jim is going to University.”

“Did you check his final report card?”

“We didn’t get it.”

“Step around the table, I’ll bring him up on the computer.”

“Jim ... where do you think you’re going?”

Another parent said, “Expelled? But we sent him to school every day.”

But mostly, I heard, “Elementary is four lines to your left.”

And that meant I had to show the ‘letter.’ Every time. I got a lot of, “Well, I never...” and, “Let me check.” And, “We don’t do things like that.” “You’re supposed to stay with your peer-group.”

I finally got my classes; Honors English, Honors Calculus, Honors Spanish, Honors French, Honors German, Honors Geo-physics and Witchcraft 101. No ... really... 101. The only classroom experience I knew nothing about.

Going to class on Monday? “Who are you?”

“Tyche Selene Flintkote.”

“You’re on the list ... there must be a mistake.”

My teachers and I spent at least half of each class period in the office “getting to the bottom of this.”

The Resource officer asked, “Lost little girl?”

“No. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

His trip to the office was only once.

On the door was the following Notice.

NOTICE

Tyche Selene Flintkote is a Registered Freshman.

If You don’t like it ... Go away. Teach someplace else.

Ya know ... a town of 1100 people is pretty small ... you would think gossip before the school year started would have told everyone who I was ... but No! Summer Vacation is what keeps teachers sane. They vacation some where ... just NOT here.

Their students are here. Their fellow teachers are here. Even the custodial staff takes their vacations somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Between classes, I was accosted in the hall by a LARGE girl and her EVEN LARGER boyfriend. They wanted lunch money and thought they’d just use mine.

“Nope ... ain’t happening,” I said.

Remember ... I am the sum of my ancestors life experiences.

She decided she needed the money more than I did. She was decorating the water fountain.

He took offense and swung at me. He wasn’t playing football this year.

I have an actual I-Phone ... a new one with the really good camera. I was talking to Surprise when the Coach shouted, “What the Fuck?!? Who did this?”

Lots of gaping jaws and finger pointing ... at me.

I know he meant to shake me ... but cerebral hemorrhaging has occurred from shaking. I wasn’t having that either. I broke his nose ... almost drove the cartilage into his brain.

“Ooo ... assault of a minor by an adult. Surprise? You are recording this?”

“Of course.”

Then the principal showed up.

20 minutes later, Junior arrived with my attorney.

The school tried to keep them out.

“The school has autonomy. Children placed in school are subject to school rules. Zero tolerance.”

“You didn’t get the memo?” Junior asked.

“My secretary screens my mail and forwards me the mail she thinks is germane to the operation of the school.”

“Ah ... that explains it.” She turned to the secretary, “You’re fired.”

“The memo was a notice from the Princess ... she rules, you know. The memo she sent stated that; School rules are suspended subject to review.”

“You can’t do that. What about order?”

“If it was ordered by the former United States of America ... it no longer exists ... just like the US of A. Mom was reviewing the Federal code when she was murdered.”

She looked a little guilty, “I haven’t had time.”