Classroom Affair - Chapter 4

The whole drive home, Shannon couldn’t shake the change in Mr. Thompson.

Had she done something wrong? Was she disrespectful in some way? Why would he be so kind to her in the hallway and then be a jerk in the classroom? Especially when Mrs. D left instructions on how useful she could be to him.

Why do you care so much?

That last question leaked into her thoughts and made a sickly lump drop in her stomach.

If it had been any other teacher, would she have felt as betrayed or that the injustice she was battling was actually unjust? Or would she blow it off and go about her day like nothing happened?

The thoughts buzzed around in her mind like a swarm of angry bees.

Winds that found their way across the Pacific Ocean and doubled in size when they reached the mainland, blew a wave of dead leaves across the road, tricking Shannon into slowing down.

With a gentle press of the brakes, her Honda groaned, as she flicked on her blinker to turn up the gravel hill she was sure would give out someday.

The bumps and potholes worn deep from years of traffic, bounced her tiny car right and left. A new ditch, she hadn’t seen until it was too late, hit her wheel so hard, it made her bite down on her tongue.

The taste of copper filled her mouth and made her grimace, as she eased her way up the final leg of the obstacle course known as the driveway.

Once the road was clear, the cozy house came into view. The blue and white home sat nuzzled away in the forest, like some fairytale cottage.

Another gust of wind blew down the mountain and wrapped around her hair, before bending the massive pines with its passage. Shannon raised a hand to her wild mane and giggled, loving the haunting movement of the moss-covered branches when they swayed in the breeze.

More than once, she scared herself into thinking there were ghosts lurking behind the massive boughs, waiting for the right moment to spring out at her. It was a nasty trick her imagination liked playing, which sent her running into her parents’ room.

It wasn’t until she heard a loud bark that she gave up searching the trees for evil spirits and focused on the jumping, slobbering mass headed straight for her.

“Hi Leo! Hi buddy, did you miss me?” She asked the big golden pit bull, as he leapt up and down, rejoicing at his master’s return.

Eight hours was far too long for her to be away in the dog’s opinion and each time she came back was cause for celebration.

Shannon bent down to ruffle his soft ears and stare into the brown eyes which over-flowed with love. Coming home to her miniature lion, made any day seem better, no matter how crappy it had been before.

Grabbing her bag, she laughed as Leo shot away from her in search of his ball, which was probably wedged under the wood pile again.

No way was she going back under there to retrieve it. Last time she did, she clamped her hand down on the body of a far too large black snake and spent the rest of the day washing her hands and screaming.

The memory of the scaly body and hissing head in her hand, made Shannon shiver as she hiked up the straps of her bag and climbed the steps to the home her parents built from the ground up.

It took more than one look to see all the little touches they put into it, from the white trimming, to the green ivy which climbed the terraces on either side and the small patch of cement in the back that held her baby footprints.

The white door, with a glass middle pushed open. The scent of vanilla and clove greeted her with the stove’s warmth, pushing away the chill of the storm brewing outside.

“I’m home, Mom.”

There was a shuffling in the back of the house.

“Hi sweetness. How was the first day back?” Kathy’s face poked out from the kitchen, where she was hard at work on some disobedient pork chops.

Shannon set her books down. “Fine. Not much changed.”

The ticking hands of the grandfather clock, that had been in their family for three generations, found the four ‘o clock position and clanged its arrival.

Kathy wiped off her hands and turned to her daughter. “That’s not what I heard. Everyone is talking about the new choir teacher this year. How was he?”

Shannon looked to the side.

A sudden flash of his freezing eyes made a chill go down her spine. “He’s… interesting.”

“Interesting how?” Kathy prodded, while she added a few spices to the dinner.

Shannon bit her lip and slid into the wooden stools which lined the kitchen counter. These always seemed to be the hosts of conversations spoken in confidence between mother and daughter and Shannon needed some motherly advice now.

“I think I did something wrong. He doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

Kathy’s faded green eyes focused on her daughter’s troubled face. “Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. Why do you think that?”

Shannon reached for an apple from the fruit bowl and sighed. “I don’t know, he just didn’t seem very friendly. I mean, at first, he did when I bumped into him in the hall, but then I got to the music room, started playing piano and it was like I pissed him off or something.”

“Shannon. You know I don’t like that word.”

Shannon bit her lip. “Sorry. I made him angry or something. I’m not sure what I did.”

Kathy rested against the counter and pondered. “Hm, that’s odd. Maybe he’s touchy about who plays the instruments? After all, he doesn’t know you, maybe he was worried the class would get too noisy?”

Shannon sighed and crunched into her apple. “I don’t think so. Mrs. D left a note about me to him. He read it off himself, that I was the accompanist. Then he told me to fall in with the others and that he would be doing things differently from now on.”

A shrug escaped her mother and she leaned down on her elbows so she was eye level with Shannon.

“Who knows, baby? Mrs. D was really loved in this town. Those are some big shoes to fill. You have to remember that this was his first day too. Maybe he was just nervous and wanted to make it clear that he’s in charge of his class? Try to give him a little grace and if you need more help, you can always pray about it, now can’t you? God will listen.”

Shannon smiled, feeling comforted by her words.

Tossing her apple up in the air and nearly missing it as it came back down, Shannon set off to her room to start on the first homework of the year.

It seemed a bit early to be assigning it, but the material wasn’t difficult.

Maybe she had picked too easy of classes this year? Placing her books on the bed and sitting cross-legged, she tried to focus on the difference between the usage of the word “who” and “whom” in a proper sentence.

“Fall in with the others.” His voice came to her mind again.

Why was this bothering her so much? It wasn’t like he was kicking her out the door or anything.

Shannon took a deep breath and bowed her head to pray. “Lord, help me to be at peace with this new teacher. Let me open my mind to the changes that are to come.”

Normally prayer made her feel at ease, but as she opened her eyes, she was disturbed to realize, that she had been doodling a single eye on her notepad, one that was shaped like Mr. Thompson’s.

She scoffed, crinkled the paper up in her hand and threw it across the room.

~~~

The next day, Shannon got up early to see if she could persuade the janitor to fix her stubborn locker.

The school was wonderfully quiet when her ballet flats tapped softly against the mismatched tiles. It was hard to believe that soon the blissful quiet would be disturbed by yelling conversations, shuffling feet and slamming lockers.

Coming around the corner, she found the abnormally tall, ghostly pale janitor, who was also the coach of the knowledge bowl team.

“Good morning, Dan. Could you lend me a hand, please? My locker is one jam away from me putting a stick of dynamite in it.” Shannon queried, putting on her best asking voice.

Dan’s smile was sleepy, he always seemed sleepy. “Good morning, Miss O’Ryan. I’ll help with your locker, if you promise to come back to the team this year. I need someone to fill out the English questions.”

Shannon shook her head. “Nope, sorry, that was Carl’s thing. School for fun, isn’t my kind of fun.”

Dan sighed with enough flair to warrant him a position as the drama couch and followed her to the senior hall.

She remembered sitting in libraries and gyms, watching her older brother buzz in. More than once, she’d stand and answer questions she really had no answers for. This earned a glare from her brother and chuckles from the audience.

An old anecdote that still loved to frequent family gatherings, of the time five-year-old Shannon, stood up and answered. “The pledge of allegiance!” for one of Carl’s questions.

She tried out for the team her freshman year and stayed with it until she was a junior, but the appeal was gone and she felt she had to focus more on scholarships and less on meets with a team that never made it past semi-finals.

While Dan tinkered with the lock, Shannon waited, rocking back and forth on her toes. She walked to one side of the janitor to the other, peeking over his shoulder.

The clinking of his screwdriver in the lock suddenly stopped, as he turned back to assess her. “Um, this may take a while, kid.”

Caught in the act, she stopped her snooping and backed up a few feet. “Sorry, am I crowding? I have a terrible habit of doing that.”

Dan smiled and gestured down the hallway. “Why don’t you wait in the library? It’s nice and warm in there. I’ll have this done before your first period.”

Shannon threw her arms around him. “Thank you!”

He patted her shoulder. “There you go. Get on with you.”

For a small-town girl with nearly perfect attendance in Sunday school, Shannon had a secret which would send her right into the depths of old lady prayers and hushed conversations.

She had a deep, unbridled, unashamed and unfaltering love of horror. If a novel could twist her insides and make her stay up late at night, it was a good one to own and re-read several times.

Sadly, the town was more focused on football than funds for reading material, but Terry stood as a silent guardian angel with hidden worlds only a few students visited.

She kept a secret storage of new horror novels that happened to make their way into the school and loved the look of glee on Shannon’s face when she held it to her heart.

With a gentle push, Shannon entered the word of silent knowledge and breathed deep the smell of old books. Skimming her delicate fingers down the many different spines, she smiled when she settled on one with a particularly gruesome cover.

Like this book were a secret lover, she carefully removed it from its home and held it to her chest. Once the coast was clear, she hurried to the windowsill and quickly dove into gory goodness which awaited her.

The slow tick, tock, from the large clock, created a metronome for her eyes, as she greedily scanned the pages. Each word dove her deeper into the story of a young woman pursued by a serial rapist/murderer, as if one or the other wasn’t bad enough.

Losing herself in the story, of how the main character found herself in the classic dark alley, Shannon didn’t even notice the footsteps approaching her.

“Her heart raced, the blood, so much blood dripping from her hands, as she twisted around the damp ally. The breath stopped in her lungs when the dark hand appeared from the shadows, brandishing a malicious dagger, eager to slice the soft skin of the fleeing woman.”

Shannon’s eyes widened when she realized that the voice who was narrating wasn’t in her head, but behind her.

She twisted around to meet the electric blue eyes of Mr. Thompson.

Letting out a startled “Eeep!” Shannon fell backwards, dropping her book and landing hard on her butt.

It was then she heard the most intoxicating thing that ever graced her ears, his laugh. It wasn’t loud, or brazen, nor did it hold a scrap malevolency; it was the softest sound of joy and his face lit up with amusement that spread a bit of color through his cheeks. “My apologies, I didn’t know you were so into the story.”

“I escape into what I’m reading.” Shannon said, hoping that her face wasn’t as red as it felt.

Mr. Thompson’s laugh melted into a blissfully sweet smile, as he held out his hand toward the embarrassed girl. “Well, in all fairness, you did bump into me yesterday, so I think this makes us even.”

Shannon thought about it for a second and allowed him to help her to her feet.

Trying to avoid the trance of his blue eyes and stylish glasses or how his hands felt soft, but firm at the same time, Shannon busied herself by brushing off her skirt. “I guess we are.”

Mr. Thompson turned his eyes back to the book. “That’s some pretty dark reading.”

“I guess.”

He reached down to the abandoned novel and lifted it to the light. “This isn’t what I would peg a girl like you to find interesting.”

Shannon’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean a girl like me?”

He shrugged and adjusted his glasses. “I don’t know, the kind that wears crosses and dresses. Obviously, you give off the impression of sweet, Christian girl, not mysterious loner. I don’t even see a trench coat or a duffle bag anywhere nearby.”

His words felt wrong, like he was mocking her.

Shannon put one hand on her hip, snatching the book back from his hand. “I think it’s a little presumptuous to assume you know what type of girl I am, based on how I dress. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me.”

Intrigued by her tone and the clearly peeved look on her face, Mr. Thompson glanced her over once more before those petrifying eyes focused. “No, but I’d love to find out.”

He tapped the cover of her book once more, gave a wave to the librarian and left out the back door. The morning sun caught his black hair, making it seem even thicker than before and she breathed a quick inhale, when he called back. “See you in class.”

Shannon stared at the door long after he was gone, trying to figure the man out and coming up with nothing.

She glanced up to the large clock, which informed her that class would begin in fifteen minutes.

Slipping her exciting novel back in its resting place, Shannon grabbed her purse and made her way out the doors and into the hallway to check with Dan on the status of her locker.