Locker 2375 c5

Posted on | March 12, 2009 | 1 Comment

Locker 2375 c5

The Code.

I can’t be sure, but given the way Ms. Shelley wrapper her hand around my ear and pulled, she must have worked on a dairy farm at some point in her career!

Poor cows.

“Young man you are going to have a lot of explaining to do” Ms. Shelley said in what I can only assume was flawless Elizabethan English.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see that there was more action in the hall than usual.

Even Erin was getting into the act and was following along doing a pretty pathetic imitation of Michael Jackson’s moon walk from “Thriller”, as she followed the growing crowd of people parading down the hallway towards my locker.

Word had circulated around the school that there was trouble brewing in the corridor outside room 019 and it was all pointing to locker 2375.

Out of know where the grade 10 jazz ensemble seemed to materialize, instruments in hand, and not only were they there but they were also playing songs to keep people entertained as they waited to see what Ms. Shelley would do to me.

We were 7 feet from the locker, just passing outside the staff toilet when there was a huge explosion and the door was blown clear of its hinges!

Smoke, smell and particles of paper and unidentifiable brownish stuff was sticking to everyone and everything!

Fortunate for me Ms. Shelley, proved to be an ideal shield and I was miraculously untouched by the debris from the explosion in the washroom.

For a second the whole place was silent, it seemed like an hour, and then there was mayhem.

Kevin was standing next to the door wearing a raincoat and signaled to me to run!

Not thinking I attempted to bolt.

“And where do you think you are going”, Ms. Shelley said in a voice that I am pretty sure was that of the evil wicked witch of the west from the Wizard of Oz.

“Oh, uh, I was just going to go and check the washroom to make sure that nobody was hurt”, I said looking at Kevin with that look of despair that says I’ve been busted again!

“Sure you were darling”, Ms. Shelley said with that twisted, scratchy, evil voice of the wicked witch.

“No really I was”, I protested with the most innocent look I could summons up given that the hallway, everyone in it EVEN Ms. Shelley, was covered in what I could only assume was not cake batter.

We stopped in front of my locker and by that time everyone was looking at it and me!

There must have been 500 people crammed into the hallway.

The Jazz band continued to play and there was now even a lady selling ice cream and candy floss walking through the stunned yet excited students, some of whom were getting very smelly as the cake batter substance covering them began to drip and slide down their bodies.

Surprisingly my locker was clean, there was not a single speck of debris on it.

“Young man open the locker”, Ms. Shelley said in anticipation.

Then almost spontaneously, like the explosion Kevin rigged, the crowd began to chant, “op-en-it, op-en-it, op-en-it…”

I removed my lanyard from around my neck and gingerly pushed the key into the slot.

Ms. Shelley was tapping her foot to what I am pretty sure was the tune the jazz band was playing making me think she invited them!

As I turned the key the crowd went silent.

You could have heard a pin drop.

I know you could have heard a pin drop because what I could hear was the sound of droplets of that cake batter like substance splattering to the floor off of Ms. Shelley and pretty much everyone else who was in the hallway.

The droplets falling sounded like rain but had a very different smell.

And the smell was getting stronger and stronger.

The latch of the locker gave way and the door slowly began to fall open.

The crowd was no longer silent but gasping collectively in anticipation.
Even Ms. Shelley was gasping, but I suspect that she was gasping because the increasing smell was minutes away from overcoming her.

I know what you are thinking.

Why would I put Erin’s stuff in my locker!

But I wanted to know why I was the convicted suspect?

It was Abdullah who brought in the pet squirrel and then the fire ants.

And why would I put Erin’s stuff in my locker in the first place?

“Come on speed this up”, Ms. Shelley said.

The jazz band drummer began a tight drum roll and everyone was stretching to get the best possible view of my locker.

As the door swung open there was a collective sigh of disappointment.

Even I was a bit disappointed almost starting to believe myself that somehow I had taken the contents of Erin’s locker and put them in mine.

But there was something odd about my locker and even Ms. Shelley clued into that, although she didn’t let on about it just then.

Just under the hole punch on the front right hand corner of the locker was a scratch mark just like the one in Erin’s locker and this one said 0192ac4d.

“Hmmm… there is something fishy here”, said Ms. Shelley.

“Actually it smells a lot more like fetalizer from a cow…” before I could finish Ms. Shelley shot back “don’t get smart with me I know you are up to something Max I’m watching you.”

And just like that Ms. Shelley was gone the crowd dispersed.

“Where is my stuff”, Erin asked as she walked back to her locker.

It was when she let out another scream and my locker door slammed shut that I knew something was going on.

Erin’s locker was once again full and the scratched code in my locker was gone!

The hand was back on my ear, “to detention darling”, Ms. Shelley said smiling.

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