I’ve planned my scheme perfectly. No longer will I sit back and waste my potential with my mouth closed and my chair flat on the floor during study hall. It’s been two whole weeks since I last visited the principal’s office, and three whole days since Mrs. Session sucked her breath in sharply, put her hands on her hips and said sharply, “Mortimer Sterling, sit down and stop causing trouble!” I’ve been quiet, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to return with a sly grin and innocent shrug. The plan unfolded perfectly on this day, when I realized how much I could accomplish and stir the pot of this school and become what it truly needs; a nemesis. I never fully knew what I had to offer until Mrs. Session stood squarely in front of the class for an announcement and said these two words:
Hall Monitor
And then this word:
Volunteer
My heart skipped a beat as I glanced around the room to watch everyone lower their heads and shift their weight, waiting for someone to raise their hand. Hall Monitor? No one wants that job; it was nothing more than being a known narc, a snitch. It was perfect. I smiled nervously as my hand slid up into the air.
Mrs. Session clucked for a moment, almost trying to seem like she didn’t notice my hand in the air, as she waited for someone-anyone- else to volunteer. But the damage was already done-everyone saw my hand up, my grin and my innocent eyes. Game on.
“Okay, well, Mort, I guess you are our newest hall monitor,” She said.
“Mortimer, Mrs. Session,” I corrected her with a smile bright as a spring morning.
“Well, MORTIMER,” she continued, moving to her desk and producing the Hall Monitor sash, “this belongs to you for the next week. Make our class proud.”
She smiled at me with a plastic warning and I returned her smile with a blink.
“Thank you, Mrs. Session. It will be my honor to represent our fifth grade class with the respect we deserve.” I heard a few kids in the back giggle underneath their hands. They knew. This will be a fun week.
On Monday, I began my hall monitor duty simply, smiling and proudly wearing my green sash as a badge of honor, with my tool of turtle wax tucked into my backpack. It was a simple plan, really. A quick trip to the bathroom to layer the slick stuff on the soles of my feet, and then a careful ice-skating lesson across the width of the hallway. No one even noticed the application, as the word had spread that I was the hall monitor, and they were probably afraid that I’d be up to something if they dare left class while I was on duty. How right they were. Mr. Bateman came to check on me five minutes before the bell rang. He found me sitting at attention, as a good Hall Monitor would monitor a hall. He stepped out of his Vice Principal’s office and muttered a, “How’s the hall, Morty?”
“Mortimer, “I corrected him, flashing a grin. “All’s well here.” He backed himself into his office again, and I waited for the bell to ring.
When the bell rang with a bleep, I quickly positioned myself at the water fountain, removing and stashing my sash into my bag. This is where the fun began. I leaned myself against the brick wall, as the hallway suddenly became full of the frenzy of switching classes. Bridget Marshall, the self-proclaimed “Most Popular Girl in School” led the pack, loudly gossiping with her friend Stacey Sargent, about the new hairstyle she was planning to get when, wwwwwhhhooopppsss! She slips and slides and falls quickly to the ground. Stacey follows, but doesn’t quite fall, just sort of tackles her, then steps on her hair as she regains her footing. As Rodney Mills rushes to help her up, whhhhooooppppsss! He slides, too, and I lean over the fountain to take a drink of water and hide my satisfied grin. Soon, it seemed like a scene out of a movie, with people sliding, yelling and laughing, and I knew I had done my job well. Even Mr. Bateman stuck his head out of the office and hollered, “What is going on here?” That was when I left the scene, plotting my second day on the job.
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