Confessions from the Principal's Chair (13 page)

Coach Pickle was sniffing, I handed him a tissue. He's got a soft heart, I thought. Maybe Rendi would like to date him. She had certainly done worse. I was pretty sure Richard, whose picture was still in my bag, didn't have a tender heart. Just then Mrs. Simpson buzzed. "Teachers in the cafeteria are asking for you. Word is that there will be a spaghetti fight today to protest the food."

"I'll take care of it," I said.

Of course, Coach Pickle heard Mrs. Simpson's message. "Do you want me to come with you?" he said.

"No." I patted his shoulder as I walked by. "You stay right here, power back. You deserve a rest. I think I can handle this."

Just as I walked into the cafeteria, two boys, a table apart, picked up several strings of spaghetti and threw them at each other. "Stop this at once," I shouted. Then I scooted over a kid's plate, held up my skirt, and climbed on a table. I noticed that several of the kids had picked up pieces of spaghetti too, but they put them down when I yelled. "Listen to me," I said, "I understand you do not like what you've been served today."

"No." Their shouted answer filled the room.

I looked down and saw for the first time that Kash Edge sat at the table I stood on. Kash looked so hot in a gold-colored tee that I almost forgot why I was standing on a cafeteria table. I forced my mind back to the food. "I'll taste the spaghetti, and let you know what I think." I pointed to Kash. "Young man, would you mind handing up a bite from your plate?"

He stood up and held out his fork wrapped with spaghetti. I felt a thrill pass through my hand and up my arm when I took the fork. But I made myself concentrate on the food. The room was totally silent as I chewed. I made a face. "Terrible," I said, and the entire student body cheered. The cooks had stepped out of the kitchen, and they stood with their arms folded, staring up at me.

"Is one of you Doris Davis?" I asked.

A large, angry-looking woman stepped forward. "That would be me." She glared at me.

"Mrs. Davis, I understand you are the head of this cafeteria," I said. She nodded, and I went on. "First, let me say that I have never tasted better cinnamon rolls than the ones you bake."

"Thank you," she said, and she almost smiled at me.

"Next, let me say your spaghetti... Well, shall we say your spaghetti needs work. I don't want you to be here tomorrow. I want you to spend the day with Judy at City Café. I will arrange for her to give you lessons on making spaghetti. Your staff can serve cold cuts in your absence. What do you think?"

"Reckon that would be all right with me. Don't think there's shame in needing to learn."

"Excellent," I said. "I'll call Judy, and by the way, I want you to take Thursday off too. Sort of a thank-you frora the principal's office."

The kids all cheered again, and I noticed that some of the cooks were clapping too. "Young man," I said to Kash, who was still standing near me, "would you help me down?"

He put up his hand. I took it, and this time the tingle went through my entire body. "I'll call for you just before last hour," I said softly when I was beside him.

I went back to my office, closed the door, and read most of the afternoon. At two, I buzzed Mrs. Simpson. "I want to see the Edge boy," I said. "I believe his name is Kash, is that right?"

"Yes, Kash. He's a very nice boy."

"I'm sure he is," I said. "Please have him sent down here at once."

When he came into my office, I could hardly keep from making a whistling sound because he looked so hot. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up so that the top of those beautiful arms showed. I had pulled the chair from the other side of the desk to make it closer to me. "Sit down, please," I said, and I put my hands in my lap. I was afraid if I didn't fasten them together, I would lose control and reach out to touch him.

"Did you find a note in your bike basket?" I asked.

"Yes." He looked down at the floor.

"I imagine you found the note somewhat confusing."

"I sure did. It said I had an admirer, but it was written on a pad that said from the principal's office."

"Well, I promise you will understand everything before you leave here, but first I need to talk to you about one of your classmates who is a very troubled girl. Her name is Serenity Blair. You know her, don't you?"

"Sure," he said, and he looked up at me for a second before dropping his eyes again. "Prairie Dog Town is awful small, Ms. Miller. Everyone knows everyone else."

"Have you noticed that Serenity is tormented by some of the other kids?"

"I guess I have."

"She tells me that a certain group of girls started it, and others follow."

"Chicken fever," said Kash, and he nodded his head like he wanted to agree with himself.

I wasn't sure I had understood him. "Chicken fever?"

"Yes, ma'am. Don't you know what that is?"

This time I didn't even pretend to have any knowledge of what he was talking about. "No, tell me about it."

"Well," he said, "my grandparents own a farm out west of town. I spend lots of time out there, and I've seen chicken fever. Two baby chickens get in a fight, pecking at each other. One makes the other bleed. If you don't get that little chicken out of the pen, the others will all turn on it, peck it to death." He shrugged. "Don't know why, but anyway, some kids are like that. They see that someone is getting pecked on. They see the blood, and they start to peck too."

"You're right," I said, "and you are a very intelligent boy." I wanted to say handsome too, intelligent and awesomely handsome. "Would you like to help me put a stop to chicken fever in the eighth grade?"

He looked at me for a minute, thinking. Then he nodded his head. "Always have hated to find a little chicken dead and bleeding. What can I do?"

I told him that Serenity feared the water balloon fight because she knew Nicole and her group would turn on her. "I want to be ready to step in when they do."

"You're going to tell them to stop?"

"No," I said, "I want to bombard them with balloons, show them how it feels. The thing is, though, I may need help."

His eyebrows wrinkled with worry. "I'd feel sort of funny hitting girls and all, if that's what you mean, especially Nicole."

A cold feeling started around my heart. "Why especially Nicole?"

"Remember yesterday how I told you I'd just called it quits with a girl?" I nodded, and he went on. "Well, Nicole is the girl. I don't know." He shrugged. "It would just feel funny hitting her like that."

I stood up. "I understand," I said, and I hoped my voice didn't feel as sad as I felt. "You may go now, Kash."

He got up slowly. "I could tell Hannah and Julie and maybe some of the other girls on Student Council to be ready to help you."

"Thank you," I said.

Kash was standing up now, but he didn't move toward the door. "Ms. Miller," he said, "you were going to explain about the note."

I swallowed hard. I couldn't tell him now that I had written the note. I didn't feel like telling him that I wasn't the principal either. He could find it out with all the others, with his girlfriend Nicole. "Oh," I said. "I saw the girl who put the note in your basket. In fact, she stopped at my car to borrow the piece of paper." I sighed. "I've decided, though, not to tell you who she is. I don't think you could be interested in her. She has a really long neck."

"I'm not much interested in having a new girlfriend right now anyway," he said, then he grinned. "Can't think of any girl in our school who has a long neck, though." He looked at me, and for a minute I thought his eyes went to my neck.

When he left, I just sat at my desk and fought tears. Kash still had feelings for Nicole. I wondered why he broke up with her. It didn't make sense, but things like that happened. For instance, there was Lorraine and Carl, on
Specific Hospital.
I was so lost in thought that I had not noticed that Kash left the door open, or that Mrs. Simpson had come to push back the beads and stand in the doorway. "You look very sad," she said. "Dare I hope you have decided to call off the water balloon thing and now you are dreading to tell the students?"

"No, the festival will go on. I am feeling down because Kash Edge doesn't like me." "I know you don't like for me to give you advice, dear, and I am fully aware that you have had a great many education courses. Still, I have to say this. Being well liked by the students should not be the goal of an administrator or teacher. Believe me, I've been around here long enough to have seen plenty and to have learned a thing or two. It really doesn't matter whether Kash Edge or any other student likes you. What you want is respect."

I made myself smile. "Well, I think he does respect me, or at least he will when he sees how good I am at throwing water balloons. I've got to get ready now."

"God help us," Mrs. Simpson said, and she closed the door.

First I took my principal's pad and wrote my confession note. "Dear New Principal, My name is Robin Miller, just like yours. That's why I got to be principal here for two days instead of being a new girl in eighth grade. It was a huge amount of fun, and I learned a lot. You will find that the spaghetti is better in the cafeteria now, and I hope there will be less bullying in the eighth grade. I hope you will agree that those improvements aren't bad for just two days in this office. I have one bit of advice for you about Mrs. Simpson. She is a nice person, but don't let her tell you what to do. I think you will like this school. I imagine I will be one of the first students you have to punish, so I guess we will meet soon. Most sincerely, Robin (BTW, call me 'Bird') Miller." I reread the note and was pleased with it. I did write, "P.S. If you need help, I recommend Madam Zelda at the Psychic Emergency Line."

Next I locked my office door, stripped off the suit, and put on my jeans, a big T-shirt, and my sneakers. I opened the closet because I had seen a mirror on the door. I let down my hair from the knot and brushed it. Then I put it up in a pony tail. Next I touched up my lipstick. When I was finished, I looked at myself for a long time. "Where have you been, Bird?" I asked out loud. "You've waited long enough. It is time for the students of Thomas Jefferson Middle School to meet you."

The Student Council kids had a long table set up, and it was already filled with balloons. They also had rolls of blue tickets. "Each kid gets four tickets," Hannah told me. "Tickets can be exchanged for water balloons. We don't want any one person to hog them, you know." She pointed toward her right where several red wagons stood. They were full of more balloons. "Student Council members will deliver more ammunition in exchange for tickets."

A man with a camera and a notepad was running around talking to people. Hannah told me he was a reporter from the newspaper over in Ponca City. "I called them," she said. "I think we should be in the paper, since it's the coolest thing the Student Council has ever done."

The man came over to take my picture with Hannah. "The principal and the student organizer," he said before he pushed the button. "I don't think anyone could guess which is older, not by looks."

"Getting the newspaper was good thinking, Hannah," I said when the photographer was finished. "You've done a great job." I started to walk away, but Hannah wasn't finished.

"Oh, Ms. Miller, wait. I have something I want to tell you."

I turned back to her. "Okay."

"Dennis sinned," she said, and she smiled.

"And who is Dennis?"

She didn't answer just asked, "Do geese see God?"

I put my hand on her shoulder. "Hannah, you are certainly into theological issues today."

"Huh?"

"Theological,
means having to do with God, religion, stuff like that."

She laughed. "No," she said. "They're palindromes. 'Dennis sinned', and 'do geese see God' are the same backward as forward."

"You're right, Hannah. Maybe after this water balloon festival, you should talk to the principal about trying for the palindrome record."

Hannah smiled. "I'll come into the office to talk to you about it. You are just the coolest principal ever."

"I certainly hope the principal of this school will always be cool." The school door opened. "Look," I said. "Here come our fighters."

As the kids came out, Coach Pickle organized them into two sides. From the numbers, I figured there weren't many in the library doing research on global warming.

Serenity was near the end of her line. I noticed that Nicole, Katelin, Caitlyn, and Ashley (all wearing their purple jackets) had piles of balloons. I could see them watching Serenity, who brought her balloons over to stand not far from me. I took a few balloons myself. When the last kid had ammunition, Coach Pickle blew his whistle. "All right, people, we expect you to play fair. Prairie Dogs always do." I saw the Purples laughing. The coach was still talking. "No one should be hit in the neck, face, or head. Come out throwing," he yelled.

Right off I felt a balloon hit me between the shoulders. I whirled around. Mrs. Simpson had come out the door. There were no balloons in her hands. She waved at me. I was trying to decide whether she had thrown them at me, when I heard Serenity yell. As I turned, two balloons smashed into her chest. One at a time, I hurled my balloons at Nicole.

I wished for more ammunition, but balloons from somewhere were hitting the purple coats. Then I saw them. Hannah and four girls I didn't know were behind the Purples, and they were throwing balloon after balloon at them. Then I saw something that made me jump up and shout, "Yes!"

Kash was behind Hannah, hunkered down beside a red wagon full of balloons, and he handed them off quickly to Hannah and her friends.

"Stop it!" yelled Nicole. "None of you are following the rules. Kash Edge, you are helping them be mean."

I opened my mouth to interfere, but Kash could take care of himself. "We're not being mean." He stood up and walked closer to the Purples. "We're the people who make sure no one gets picked on."

"I am not picking on anyone." Nicole's voice sounded near tears. "We're just having fun with Serenity, just girl stuff. You don't understand. That's all." She turned her back. "Come on," she said to the other Purples. "Let's get out of here."