A petite, redheaded woman skittered toward
Cassandra, Ronald, and the other teens. “Miss Ray? Do I need to report you to
your father?”
All the boys straightened and Ronald stepped away from
the picnic table. Everyone went silent and their smiles faded.
Something about her stance made Cassandra feel
small.
Leanne yanked her plaid skirt and smoothed it out. “No
ma’am.” She stepped from the table top to the bench. From there, she hopped to
the sandy ground.
The woman tugged at her fiftyish- handmade-looking-dress,
lifting her chin and a well arched brow at the girl. “See to it that you act
appropriately.” Her eyes glanced at Leanne’s blouse, and she splayed her right hand
across hers. “Make sure you button up that blouse. If I see it like that again
one more time this week, I will be forced to right you a warning.”
“Of course, Mrs. Dort.” Leanne’s voice oozed
Southern sugar.
“The same goes for the rest of you.” The woman cast
a gaze at Cassandra and Ronald. “You two must be new.”
Cassandra nodded. This teacher has forgotten who I
am already? Her and her mother spoke to the home economics teacher two weeks
ago. She had been the only fat girl who showed up at the orientation. It wasn’t like this was a large school. Last year, the high school
yearbook showed that ten people graduated. It couldn't be that hard to remember anyone? She did recall the woman writing down her name on a tablet as well.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ronald used his respectful voice.
Mrs. Dort turned her attention to Cassandra. “Didn’t
I meet you and your mother last week?”
“Yes.” She felt a little relieved that the teacher
hadn't forgotten her afterall.
The woman tapped her chin. “Miss Berg? Right?”
“Yes. But you can call me Sassie.”
A quick smile flashed across the lady’s face and
disappeared in an instant. “Not in my class.” Then she turned toward Ronald. “And
what is your name, young man?”
“Ronald Fisher, ma’am.”
The teacher skimmed him from head to toe. “Make sure
you mind your peas and q’s, Mr. Fisher.” She used a much sterner voice than
with the rest of them.
Ronald curled up the left side of his mouth. “Yes,
ma’am.” He stayed respectful.
“I will see all of you inside.” Mrs. Dort fiddled
with her top button right at the pit of her throat. It appeared that her well-starched
collar might choke her.
The teens nodded, and Mrs. Dort marched toward the
double red doors.
“See you in a little bit, Mrs. Douche-bag,” Leanne
stage-whispered through a giggle.
Shelly Arkon © 2015
I'm from a Catholic school and so far nothing like this happened that I know of.
ReplyDeleteKids these days.
Lux, I went to a Southern Baptist high school. The kids were horrible to say the least. Bullying was a talent of theirs. I don't have very good memories.
DeleteA rather unpleasant woman.
ReplyDeleteDid you ever have a teacher like her?
DeleteVery good characterizations. I especially liked this bit of prose: lifting her chin and a well arched brow at the girl. Well done! :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Lexa.
DeleteGood characterization, indeed.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Norma.
ReplyDeleteCharacters are beginning to stand out, and motives emerging. Good stuff.
ReplyDeleteMy teachers here in the South were a lot like Mrs. Dort.
DeleteI thought she was a very good example of a small Mid-Western school or Southern for that matter. I doubt if they change.
ReplyDeleteI don't think they do, Mari. Mrs. Dort was a common sort of teacher here in the South. In fact, the two private schools I attended the teachers never used your first name.
DeleteBe awful to have someone like that ruling over your school time.
ReplyDeleteI had several teachers like Mrs. Dort.
DeleteHaha. Douche-Bag. Wow. I had a few of those types of teachers. Most taught English.
ReplyDeleteI had a few of those, too. Math and home economics.
DeleteOy, fun teacher. We had one like that. His universal school name was Mr. Velcro-dick. Don't remember how that one got started. I imagine it was around well before I reached the school.
ReplyDelete***snort***
Delete