“You have a substitute teacher today class.” It was music to every sixth-graders’ ears. As everyone who has ever been a student will tell you, substitute teachers already have wool over their eyes. You don’t even have to do any pulling. The pencil-thin principal ushered in that day’s potential victim. “Class, this is Ms. Gertrude. You all know your manners, so be good today.” Principal Hensley whisked out of the room with her frail and dainty stride. She wouldn’t last long here, the poor soul, believing that every child was well-meaning was cause for not one student being afraid of her. No, she wouldn’t last long at all.
All the children took this time to look over their prey. Ms. Gertrude was every bit as fat as Mrs. Hensley was thin. Being stuffed inside a big purple dress the resemblance to an infamous cartoon character was unmistakable and there was more than one muffled snicker in the room. Her head simply popped out of her body and dress like that bit of a sausage that breaks through the covering when you cook it too quickly. Bright red hair and a throbbing red face, caused by the strain it took to simply pump blood through the narrowing veins, only enhanced this appearance.
On most people, this degree of largeness is jolly and comical, Santa Claus and that funny fat friend. Somehow, though, old Gertrude’s girth demanded respect and even a little fear. Carrying her weight like a man, but peering through the stern eyes of a stubborn elderly woman, Gertrude attacked from two sides. “Textbooks. Open. Pages. 10. Through. 45. Done. By. End. Of. Class.” A deep breath came between each word as her lungs labored through the strenuous job of fueling her enormous vessel with oxygen. Not a single student in the class of 10 uttered a complaint about the impossible assignment. Those eyes told them what would happen if they had.
Gertrude plopped down on her temporary chair nearly enveloping the entire thing, and began to munch on potato chips, chocolate candies, and jerky from a purse on the verge of a suitcase. All the students worked silently and methodically on their labyrinth of assignments. A tension was slowly nurtured to growth in the room and it began to cook, steaming and simmering in the heat of silence.
You see, it only takes one child to make a brave, and probably dumb move, for all the other little sheep to follow. For an entire hour the only sound in the room had been munches and crunches of Gertrude’s endless feeding; the tension was finally just too great to ignore. Tom Garrett was full to bursting with snide remarks left unsaid. He was that one child in every class that desperately grasps for any hand of attention or popularity he can catch. Never realizing that it is only their intense trying that renders them unnoticed. If only Tom knew to relax and wait for friendship to come to him. But he didn’t, and therefore, he made a grab with a cruel shot. “You wanna eat my paper too miss?”
For a mere second, if that, the class tried to contain its’ laughter. Very soon however, the laughter bubbled out and morphed to an eruption of loud approval. Tom had finally done it, a perfect joke. Fueled with overconfidence and even more try than before, he continued, “I just figured…you know…figured you’d like… a snack… between your…chocolates…and…breaths!” The joke almost ended prematurely as the comedian bottled his laughter up into reduced giggles. Again, the class applauded with boisterous laughter.
“Thomas, you will see me after class. Your assignment will now include a two page essay on good behavior. First, second, and third drafts to make sure there are no errors. Mean courage vanished from the room. Ms. Gertrude did not cry, change her voice, or show any emotion at all really; just brute and even sternness. The comment had, in fact, barely even slowed her snacking. To make up for the lapse she took an extra large handful of chocolates filling her large cheeks much like a squirrel. This obvious comparison prompted not a single giggle, even on the inside.
Three O’clock finally came along to liberate the young people. With a controlled quickness the students filed out of the room laying thick assignment sheets on the desktop. This was done in a single fleeting motion for fear that Gertrude would confront them about the work unfinished. Tom Garrett’s fear however, was unmatched by this petty worrying.
As the last student, the pretty Grant girl, exited the big oaken door slammed shut caging Tom in like a wild animal. Only chip crunching, jerky munching, and deep fat breaths filled the air. Occasionally, Tom flashed seemingly casual glances around the room seeking any kind of mental escape he could see. Before this day Tom had never noticed how bad the floral wall paper was curling away from the walls, how old the wooden trim was, or how dirty the graffiti on his desk. Gertrude just kept up her feeding, and the unceasing job of filling her lungs.
An hour went by before a single word was said. Finally, “Tom, come to the front of the class.” The little boy walked slowly on rubber legs, his previous courage completely deflated. Since the first time since class got out, Gertrude put her sausage-like fingers into her purse without immediately retrieving a handful of food. It just lay limp in the bottomless food pit. “Come closer boy, I’ve yelled enough for today, let me tell you a secret.”
Tom inched closer and closer holding back his repulsion at Ms. Gertrude’s foul breath. She got sick of waiting and forcibly pulled his head close. Young Tom began to shake.
Gertrude sacrificed her moment of starvation to grab the syringe from her suitcase. When that little class clown got close enough her pudgy hand moved with remarkable speed to stick Tom in the arm. A small limp thud sounded as the little Garrett boy fell to the floor. A smile crept on the fat woman’s face, sadistic happiness protruding through thick flesh.
Out of the bag of wonders came a fork and knife. All that snacking had really given the old woman an appetite for a big dinner. Tom Garrett made a decent meal even though he was still a bit scrawny.
When the substitute teacher left her class room she lumbered to her car feeling wonderfully satisfied. Hopefully, she thought, two children will misbehave tomorrow; I have a kindergarten class, hardly enough for a meal.