Friday Challenge for 6/6/08

This is my entry for Bruce Bethke's Friday Challenge for 6/6/08.

He's just a young boy out of school
Livin' his world like he wants to
They're makin' laws, but they don't understand
Turns a boy in to a fightin' man
They won't take me
They won't break me
--Journey, Escape, 1981

"Schools Out"
by snowdog

"Uh, excuse me. Could you tell me where..." the skinny kid fumbled with his books and class schedule. "Do you know where Room C315 is?"

Confusion. My brain struggled to make sense of the situation. A lost freshman on campus was nothing new, not on the first day of school. The thing is, today was supposed to be the first day of Summer break. What was I doing here? The nervous newbie squirmed under my senior stare.

"That's C-hall, it's that way," I said, pointing absently in some random direction.

"Thanks!"

The kid rushed down the main hall in hopes of making his remedial English class in time. I knew he wouldn't. Mrs. Eland would give him The Look.

I couldn't understand it. Yesterday the hallways had been buzzing with students and teachers looking forward to two and half months of sun and sand. A Coke and smile. Summer always seems too short, but usually I remember at least some of it.

The bell rang, announcing that I and about two hundred or so freshmen were late for class. I had no idea where I was supposed to be. Wait. There was a schedule in my hand. Phys Ed? First hour? Aww, man. It was going to be a long Winter.

As I made my way toward the gym, something stirred in my mind, a dream of sorts. No, a memory. I was on the bus, on the way home from the last day of school. It was a rowdy trip, as they all were. Our bus driver wasn't exactly a strict disciplinarian.

"Hey, ya'll calm down back there." Merv mumbled into the mirror with a poorly-executed look of concern. We paused our mischief briefly until his gaze returned to the sun-heated road ahead, toward that reflective pond in the distance that you never reach.

"Okay," I said, dropping my voice a little this time. "Go for it!"

The kid I had in a headlock--Greg was his name--squirmed helplessly as the huge black football player across the aisle grabbed his Fruit-of-the-Looms® and yanked hard. I put my hand over the kid's mouth to stifle the scream. Merv didn't look up, so Anthony gave one more hard pull, nearly wrenching him out of my grip.

It was mirth all around.


Except now I was standing in the gym with a group of fellow Seniors on the first day of school. By this point in our careers, we all knew the drill. Coach would appear from his office nestled in the locker room and remind us who's boss. Buzz cut. Closely-trimmed beard. A five foot seven inch leader of men named Coach Branch. He ordered us to take a seat.

My friend Joey flopped next to me on the bleachers as we pretended to listen about how things would be different this year. Nonsense would not be tolerated. Lawsuits were pending.

"Something weird's going on," I muttered.

"Yeah?" Joey leaned back and carefully slipped the can of Skoal® from his permanently ring-impressed back pocket. He offered me some and laughed at my morning-sick expression. "Branch doesn't look any weirder than last year."

"No, not that. Look..." I glanced around cautiously. "Summer Break just started yesterday. Why are we here?"

Joey nearly lost his dip he when blurted out "WHAT?"

"Hey! Mullins!" Coach shouted irritably. "Anything you want to share?"

"No sir."

Coach Branch rolled his eyes. "Joe, what's in your mouth?"

"Nuttin, sir!"

"Get down here, now!"


And then I was on the bus again, in the back seats that the football player and I owned. From the few times that my parents had let me drive to school, I knew that the trip down the winding country road took eight minutes at seventy miles per hour. Even with stops, Merv could come damned close to that time. I grabbed the seat as a left-hand curve nearly put me into the window.

"Man, I can't wait," Anthony smiled. "Last day on this freakin' death trap. Ever!"

"Lucky bastard! I wish I was a Senior."

Anthony looked at his watch. "You will be in about five minutes."

"YEAH!" I agreed. To celebrate, I twisted my class ring around backward in my hand and slapped Greg on the back of the head one more time as a Junior.



"Man, that f***in' hurt!" Joey said, rubbing his ass. "Five swats! And he took the can! A full can!"

He was standing on my toes as I did sit-ups. This was to see how badly we had all gotten out of shape over the Summer. Coach didn't laugh when I told him that you have to be in shape to get out of it. Not a problem that I had.

"Not...exactly...a first.... offense." I spouted between reps.

"Nineteen... Twenty..." Joey laughed as I collapsed into a panting heap of sweaty gray cotton.

"No, I'm serious, Joey," I gasped staring up at the pulleys and cables that controlled the basketball goals. "I don't remember Summer Break. It's like I was just here yesterday."

"That's gotta suck," he drawled. "I was at the lake almost every day. Caught this huge-ass bass. Must'a been ten pounds."

"Liar."

"Hey, Jeannie took pictures this time!"

In an effort worthy of Atlas himself, I squeezed out another sit-up before the whistle blew. Then I got to my feet so we could swap positions.

"You don't remember anything, huh? Hope it don't have anything to do with this." He poked me hard in forehead.

"OWW!" It hurt a lot more than it should have.


Greg grabbed the back of his head and gave me a nasty look. He was a nice kid and he knew my bullying was good-natured, so he usually just laughed it off. Not this time. He scowled and moved to another seat.

No matter. My stop was next. Merv banked the bus around the last 's' curve and brought the big yellow sardine can to an abrupt halt.

I gathered my notebooks, textbooks, and yearbook. Home at last! Nothing but two and a half months of loafing bliss ahead! I stood and worked my way toward the front, gathering speed as I went.

"Have a nice Summer," Merv mumbled as I neared the first row.

"Woo HOO!" I shouted in glee as I grabbed the pole and swung down to the door. As it turns out, I jumped just a tad too high and slammed my forehead into the upper door frame.

Next thing I recall, I was staggering on the ground, books and papers scattered at my feet, holding my forehead. Merv laughed and closed the doors. Then he was gone.


Now I was back in the gym, still touching my head where Joey had poked me. My fingers came to rest on the adhesive bandage.

"Oh, yeah."

Update: Fix some typos with Bane's help.