Cool School (11 page)

efore she can say another word the door is thrown open and another teacher comes storming in. She charges straight up to Cedric, who looks as puzzled as everyone else by this sudden arrival. The teacher's holding a black videotape in her hand and she waves it in front of Cedric's nose.

‘Got you!' she cries in triumph. ‘Got you at last!'

‘Goodness me,' the Principal says. ‘Please tell me, what is the meaning of . . .'

But this is another sentence she doesn't get to finish. When it comes to finishing sentences this is a bad day for her.

‘Ms Millington,' says the teacher, ‘do you have a video recorder?'

‘Why yes, certainly, I've got one out here in the . . .'

The teacher charges out to where Ms Millington points. In a moment she returns with a TV and a video recorder on a big trolley. She shoves the tape in and presses ‘play'. As she does she says to Cedric, ‘You didn't know about the security equipment we put in during the holidays, did you?'

Cedric's starting to look nervous. There are flickering grey lines on the screen and then they clear. You're looking at a murky grey and white picture of a bike shed. There's a few very small students in the corner and there, towering over them, is the unmistakeable figure of Cedric. And a second later you hear his voice.

‘. . . and after you've given me your little lunch, I want all your Derwent coloured pencils. Otherwise you'll never see your Barbie dolls again!'

The little kids on the screen are crying, but that's nothing to the sobbing of Cedric, right here in the Principal's office.

‘It's not my fault,' he weeps as they drag him away. ‘It's my parents. You don't know what it's like going through life with a name like Cedric!'

ell,' the Principal says, ‘I can only say that your last school did warn us to keep a close eye on you. There was a note on your records about an ugly episode involving cheating at the school sports.'

‘Oh no,' you gasp. ‘That was in Grade One. It was all a misunderstanding.'

What actually happened was that you ate the egg for the egg and spoon race by making a hole in one end and sucking the yolk and white out. You didn't do it to cheat, but because you were hungry.

‘Well,' says the Principal, ‘I think we'll put you in our special class, so we can keep an eye on you.'

You're not sure what that means but you soon find out, the next day. There are only three other students in the special class. One's handcuffed to the desk, one's got
KILLER
tattooed across his forehead, and the third spends the whole time playing with his flick knife. None of them is pretty to look at.

It's got its compensations though. When you go back to normal classes, after a month in the special class, Cedric doesn't scare you at all. Compared to the other three delinquents, Cedric's a big teddy bear.

Using the tricks these three guys have taught you, you take complete charge of Cedric. You can't imagine why you were ever worried about him. The first day you train him to get your lunch for you. The second day you teach him to carry your bags home from school. And the third day you organise him into doing your homework every night. For the rest of your years at school you have a great time, with Cedric as your personal slave.

omehow you force yourself not to give in. You still watch the locket but you manage to shut out her voice, and to keep your brain clear.

Lucky you didn't drink the herbal tea!

You decide that the safest thing to do is to pretend to be under her power. So you let your eyes shut slowly, then you open them again when she tells you to. Now her soothing voice becomes harsh and sharp.

‘Who sent you down here?' she asks. ‘Come on, tell me? Was it the police? Was it the newspaper? Was it the National Crime Authority? Who? Come on tell me!'

‘Er, um,' you stammer. ‘It was . . . the newspapers.'

‘I thought so!' she hisses. ‘Why? Why did they send you? Are they on to me?'

‘No, no,' you reassure her. ‘They're looking . . . um . . . they're looking for the Principal of the Year.'

‘Principal of the Year!' she cries. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Well,' you say, ‘they have a committee, to pick the best Principal . . . and this year someone's nominated you. So they sent me here and I had to get close to you so I could report on your qualities. And if you win, you get a BMW, $20,000, a gold watch, a block of flats, and a lifetime subscription to
MAD
magazine.'

‘Hmm,' she says, looking thoughtful. There's a bit of a silence, then she says ‘When I count to five you will awaken. One, two, three, four, five.' She snaps her fingers and you jump up.

‘Oh, what happened?' you say, in a tone of surprise. ‘What happened? Gee, I think I went to sleep.'

‘Perhaps you did,' she says. ‘But it's quite all right. It was a lovely little sleep, wasn't it?'

‘Uh, yes, sure,' you say.

top!' you yell. ‘Stop, or I'll throw the jelly beans.'

She does stop too, like you've hit the pause button.

‘Now,' you say, ‘put the needle down.'

She does so, but sulkily.

‘OK,' you say, ‘sit in the armchair now.'

She sits, even though she's glaring at you in a rage.

You're feeling so confident now that you take the top off the jar and eat one of the jelly beans.

‘I think you're in the wrong job,' you say to her, sitting in the seat opposite. She doesn't comment, so you continue. ‘Yes, the wrong job,' you say firmly, eating another jelly bean, a yellow one this time.

You proceed to talk to her for the next twenty minutes, during which you empty the jar of jelly beans. And your advice obviously works.

The next day it's announced that she's resigned. A week later you see her in her new position. You're on your way to school, so you walk to the pedestrian crossing to get across the road. You hear a loud whistle blast as the lollipop lady marches out into the middle of the road. A huge semi-trailer squeals to a halt but it doesn't stop fast enough and its front wheels go thirty centimetres over the line. The lollipop lady strides straight to the driver's side of the cabin and starts abusing the driver. You walk on smiling, as the voice follows you down the road. ‘You get out of that cabin right now!' she shouts. ‘And write out one hundred times: “I must stop my truck on the line at zebra crossings.”'

‘Yes,' you think, ‘seems like she's found the right job at last.'