Patrick
Copyright© 2010 by Peter H. Salus
Chapter 7
I'm in trouble with Mr. Simmonds again.
Yesterday, on Monday, dad took me and Sarah to call for Rachel and Al. We dropped them at their school and then Rachel and I were dropped off at mine – what had formerly been ours.
A lot of the kids were really nice and asked Rachel why she was here and she told them about the earthquake and the big waves. But when we got to my classroom, Mr. Simmonds asked what she was doing there. I said that she was my guest.
"She can't be a guest, she's a former student!" he said.
"Well, then she's a visitor."
"No such category!"
"Is she a teacher?"
"No!"
"Is she a parent?"
"No!" he was getting dark red in the face.
"Is she a student?"
"Not any more!"
"Well, then she's a guest. Unless she's a janitor."
"Don't be fresh with me!"
So I got angry. "Don't be such a twit!"
So we got marched to the principal's office.
The principal's secretary phoned my home. There was no response. (I don't know why Rob didn't answer. Maybe he went for a walk.) Then they tried Rachel's home. No one answered there, either. They were now too flustered to ask either of us a sensible question.
Rachel looked frightened. "Don't fret," I whispered. "There's nothing they can do to you."
"Well, young man," said the principal, "what do you have to say for yourself?"
"As to what, sir?"
"As to your insulting Mr. Simmonds."
"I didn't insult him."
"He says you did."
"I told him not to be a twit. That's not being insulting."
"And what would you call it?"
"A precautionary admonition, sir." Rachel tittered.
"And who taught you to say that?"
"Mr. Simmonds, sir. He's quite insistent about improving our vocabularies."
"Hmpf. Yes. Quite so. Anyroad, why is this young woman here?"
"She's my guest for the day, sir."
"Weren't you a student here?" he turned to Rachel.
"Yes."
"And why are you here?"
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