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The English classroom burst with laughter. Maddox Kelley—late as usual—stood in the doorway. She wore her usual short plaid skirt and oversized sweater. Her legs were clad in bright pink tights. The front of her sweater protruded outward much further than usual. A wide grin overspread her round face.
Miss Grossman turned toward the tardy student. She rose hastily and, taking long strides, approached Maddox. The elderly English teacher stood a few inches above her student. Her wrinkled face frowned. Grasping the girl by the arm, she dragged her across the corridor and into the girls' room.
"Remove it," she ordered, pointing toward an open toilet.
Maddox looked at her teacher sharply. Her mouth began to protest, but she dug into her sweater, pulling out wads of toilet tissue. Depositing it into the toilet, she pushed the flusher.
"Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous," Miss Grossman muttered. "Get back to class, and next time, don't waste all that paper."
Maddox seethed inwardly but kept her emotions in check. She considered Grossy the second worst teacher after Mr. Willard. She shot a sharp look at her and slinked back into the classroom. The students' eyes followed her as she plopped into her seat, her sour expression intact as she slouched behind her desk.
"The next student who interrupts the class will automatically fail for the day," the teacher stated, resuming her seat.
The door banged open a second time, admitting Arnold Gorey. All eyes focused on the boy in tight jeans, a plaid shirt, and a leather vest. Heavy cowboy boots clad his feet. He lifted his buff ten-dollar hat and greeted the room.
"Howdy, Pilgrims," he drawled, replacing his hat.
"Let's guess," Frank Bartley stated from the back row. "Marilyn Monroe reincarnated."
"John Wayne," Arnold growled back. He hooked his index fingers in his belt loops and straightened his back. "Pilgrim."
"Had me fooled," Frank muttered. His fellow students chuckled.
"Class!" Miss Grossman yelled, rapping her knuckles on her desk. "In case you missed it, Mr. Wayne, um, Mr. Gorey, the next student who interrupted my class fails automatically."
"No can do, Grossie," Arnold stated flatly. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a yellow slip. "Detained by the office of principal, ma'am." He swept off his hat and bowed.
"Take your seat, Mr. Gorey," the English teacher relented.
Arnold stomped to the back of the room, his boots echoing on the linoleum. Then, halfway down the aisle, he pivoted and squatted. A silver pistol materialized in his right hand. The class erupted in screams, students diving under their desks. Miss Grossman marched bravely towards her wayward student.
"Hand it over, Duke." She stretched out her hand. Arnold handed her the red-tipped firearm. "Next time, you'll find yourself detained by the office of the Sheriff. In the meantime, you have a free ticket back to the principal's office.
Arnold bowed his head and headed out. The class began reappearing at their desks. Their teacher hesitated momentarily and then called Bethany Copley's name.
"Take charge of the class for a moment, Beth," Miss Grossman ordered. "Miss Kent, come with me."
Sailor rose on shaky legs. She should have realized the pistol was a toy, but, at that moment, Arnold really scared her. She had to accompany her teacher to the principal's office while Miss Grossman delivered the fake gun. She also had to act as a witness to the dreadful event.
"Do you think they'll expel Gorey this time?" someone asked from a center desk.
"Possibly," Bethany replied, sitting erect at Miss Grossman's desk. She folded her hands onto the hard surface. Taking charge of her fellow students filled her with importance.
Relief over swept the classroom. Most students felt uncomfortable with Arnold.
"It would get boring without Gorey," Maddox stated, her face turning to granite. Her flinty eyes bore into Bethany. "We'd have no entertainment in this dreary school; no one to laugh at."
"That's NOT entertainment, Max," Mia Sill whimpered, bowing her head onto her desk. Tears etched her voice.
Maddox swung around, glaring at her classmates. She hated contradictions.
"What if it was real?" Mia continued, sobbing loudly. "It could happen, you know. Happens all the time."
Maddox shrugged and turned away.
"It was hilarious," she stated, her voice flat.
"You were one of the first to duck under your desk," Frank remarked. "I saw you dive under there."
"This was serious, you guys," Bethany cut in from the front. "Mia's right."
Mia slid from behind her desk and hurried from the room. All eyes followed her.
"Anyone else wants to see their counselor?" Beth asked after the door banged closed. Three girls exited, and an underdeveloped boy shadowed them.
"I thought it was funny," a deeper voice stated. "Wish I thought of it myself."
Maddox's swung around to face Jack Meadows. Her face widened into a grin. They had a sense of humor in common. It delighted her. Around her, the class groaned.
"Settle down, class," Miss Grossman announced, returning. Sailor scooted around her and retook her seat. Bethany followed her. "Mr. Gorey will not honor us with his presence today. He and Mr. Wayne have another appointment downtown."
The class settled but didn't really settle, although silence prevailed. Miss Grossman let them sit quietly and forgot to hand out the prepared English test. She invited them to seek counseling or to call their parents if they wished. Sailor headed for her locker after class. She spun her combination lock and stopped. Her heart beat furiously. Resting her forehead against the cold metal, she willed herself to her next class. Instead, she bolted through the door and ran home.
"What's wrong with you?" Gabby asked, lounging in the bathroom door. Her middle sister knelt before the toilet, having just vomited.
"Arnold Gorey pulled a fake gun in English class," Sailor answered.
"Was that your class?" Her older sister's blue eyes widened.
"Yeah," Sailor stated noncommittally. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Ok, I get that," Gabby remarked, standing back. Sailor brushed past her.
Sailor sat on her bed, trying not to sob. Her whole body felt racked with fear. Although she maintained herself in school, her strength collapsed at home. She'd never felt so scared in her life.
"Here, drink this." Gabrielle handed her a steaming mug. "It'll make you feel better." She crawled onto the bed and half-hugged her little sister.
Sailor hesitated for a moment, then sipped her hot drink—butterscotch milk. Their mother always made it for them when the girls were down and out. The warmth made her feel a little better. She sipped silently, savoring the delightful taste.
"Why are you home?" she finally asked, handing the mug to Gabrielle.
"Period."
"Oh, bad?"
"Yeah."
The sister lapsed into silence. They didn't notice Kennedy standing beside the bed.
"Arnold Gorey pulled a gun in class," the little girl stated, breaking the silence.
"How do you know that?" Gabby demanded, glaring at her youngest sibling.
"All the kids are talking about it." Kennedy shrugged.
"Well, don't you talk about it," Gabrielle stated sharply.
"Why not?" The little girl sounded innocent.
"It was Sailor's class."
"Ooh, ooh." The color disappeared from her bright cheeks. Kennedy lunged onto the bed and hugged her sister. All three girls hugged.
Sailor opened 'Little Women' and pretended to read. Her sisters had gone to eat dinner, but she wasn't hungry. She wanted to get her mind off the school incident. It would take a while to get over it, she knew. She loved the Louisa May Alcott book and thought it would bring her solace. A scraping at the screen disturbed her.
Maddox's grinning face appeared at the window. Sailor glanced at her, then returned her eyes to her novel. Maddox rapped on the window, and Sailor reluctantly raised it.
"Go away, Max," Sailor whispered.
"Gorey's suspended, not expelled," her friend informed. "First offense, and it was a toy. He apologized. That made it all right."
"It's not all right, Max," Sailor answered.
"He didn't mean it," Maddox continued. "Let me in."
"No." Sailor turned her back to the window.
"Gorey's getting to counseling," Maddox continued. "You know he's disturbed. He watched his mom commit suicide when he was six. His father…"
"Yeah, I know. I've heard it all before, Max." Sailor kept her back to her friend. "I don't want to hear about poor Arnold."
Kirby Flack was a strange woman. She showed signs of mental collapse when Sailor's mom went to high school with her. It surprised everyone when she became pregnant and married Kurt Gorey. Following Arnold's birth, her defect took a full grip upon her. She began imagining the dead tormented her. Kirby finally gassed herself in the oven while her son watched.
Arnold fell into a deep depression following his mother's suicide. He started acting out when he left grade school and entered middle school. He manifested his problems by acting like dead famous people. The school had urged his father to seek counseling for his wayward son with no result. The latest incident forced the school's hand. The Gorey's agreed to seek professional help if Arnold could remain in school.
"Let me in," Maddox whined, pressing her face against the screen. It appeared distorted in the gray webbing. "It's cold out here."
"No." Sailor held firm. She didn't want to deal with Maddox, didn't like her opinion concerning the Gorey incident. It wasn't funny.
"Please." Maddox elongated the word.
Sailor sigh. She nearly gave in. Instead, she slammed the window closed. Her friend's sad face remained outside. She hugged herself and shivered. She pranced back and forth. Returning to the window, she banged again. Sailor pulled the blinds closed.
Sighing, Sailor slammed her book closed. She hugged herself and rocked on the bed. Leaving her best friend outside in the cold hurt her. She nearly opened the blinds but held her ground. Everything about that day disturbed her. Maddox was as mad as Arnold Gorey if she thought his actions were amusing. Sailor knew she had to really rethink her friendship. Gabrielle was right; she didn't want to get caught up in the drama.
Tears welled in Sailor's eyes. Friends should remain friends, but it was time to start growing up.
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