An On-line Novel: Punishment

It's time for another excerpt. My, the time flies.

Cassandra swallowed back something pasty. The home room teacher left her mouth dry. She didn't know what to make of him. Friend or fiend. His beedy brown eyes had a wild look in them. And she couldn't tell if his crooked smile was just that or a permanent scowl.

"Well, Miss Berg?" Mr. Haggerman reached for the yellow pad laying on her desk top, and picked it up.

He brought it close to his face and a cocked a silvery brow.

She silently drummed her fingers against her desk. Hope he doewassn't get upset with my doodles. It's something she did when nervous or was under pressure. Making her, the newbie in the class, the monitor on the first day was beyond fair. It didn't help that her new classmates were demons from hell. Their actions were far from Christian. She lifted her chin and glanced at the kids to her right beyond Mr. Haggerman. They most definitely deserved whatever the Hangman was going to dish out.

"Well done, Miss Berg." The teacher made an about face with his pad and headed toward his podium. "Looks like everyone minus Miss Berg and Mr. Fisher, will have to write out Proverbs four, three times before they leave my class today. At the end of the week, you will be have to write the whole thing from memory."

Cassandra let out a silent sigh and flashed a look at Ronald.

He pressed his lips together.

"You two will pay later," Gruber whispered from behind her.

One of the girls sitting way in the back let out a snort. Gruber responded with a frog croak.

"Looks like we'll add half of Proverbs five to the two of you." He peered over his black-rimmed glasses at the boy behind her and then at the girl.

Cassandra knew these kids weren't opt to walking in compassion and forgiveness. It so sucks to be me and Ronnie. But her friend did have a battle plan. This day wasn't going to end well. That was for sure.

An On-Line Novel: The Immoral: Surprise

Cassandra couldn't figure what was taking Ronald so long. It felt like forever being stuck in a class full of mean kids. If I could've stayed back one more year. Or gone to the public high school dreamy Schmidt had went to. She sighed, glanced down at the note pad, and scribbled arrows across the top of the page. Never in all her fourteen years had she hated school until now. It sucks lemons. Totally.

Her classmates were completely out of control running around the room, throwing paper balls, talking just to talk, and giggling. This was worse than babysitting for her neighbor's monster children for the summer.

"Looks like Kermit is back, Miss Piggy," Gruber snickered before letting out a snort.

She lifted her eyes and peered at the doorway.

Ronald shot her a look, jerked his head back, and scurried toward his desk to the right of her.

A hint of tuna wafted in his wake. Whatever he had prepared wasn't going to be good. Especially if it was one of his tactical spit balls. She knew he would end up in the principal's office before the morning was over. Something in the pit of her stomach told her so.

"The Hangman is right outside the door," Ronald stage-whispered for her ears only and plopped in his seat.

"Good," she muttered back at him. "It's about time."

Gruber jog-walked toward the doorway of the classroom.

Cassandra shook her head. It took everything inside her to not bust out laughing. The kid was in for a big surprise.

The greasy-haired boy craned his neck around the door frame and let out a yelp.

Shelly Arkon 2015

An On-line Novel: The Immoral: Spoiled and Abnormal

 Mr. Haggerman grasped the right metal handle to the read double doors leading into the high school. His meeting with the Principal Ray lasted twenty minutes. It proved to be a sheer waste of time.  Being a school teacher was a lot more different than being a sergeant in the military. He had served twenty years in the United States Army. Wished I could back. At least the Army gave him the ability to correct what high schools, both public and private, along with parents had created in their sons and a handful of daughters that had enlisted. He felt useless at his attempts to fix any ninth grade class that had entered his room over the last five years of tenure. Spoiled brats!

Laughter filtered down the hall toward him as he swung the door open. Like he figured, his classroom was out of control. I should make them drop and give me a hundred. He stuck a stubby finger into his stiffly, starched shirt collar and ran his finger around it, tracing at the sweat that had accumulated on his neck. Too bad I don't have twenty tooth brushes and cans of cleanser. The floor could use a good scrub. But caution ruined his ideas. Miss Wadsworth's was in his class for the second time in a row, and her family would make a big stink. It hadn't been the first time. Money talked. He had been warned last year that he would be the one to walk if he used military style discipline on her. If only I could bend her over my knee. That's what she needed. A good, old-fashioned spanking. Someone had to give that girl direction.

Halfway toward his rowdy class, Mr. Fisher swung his small hips and strutted toward him.

Mr. Haggerman slid his dark-rimmed glasses midway down his nose, and peered over them at the teen. Twinkle toes. He knew his kind. Great! In the military, they kicked those kind out. They were a distraction.

The kid stopped in front of him. A guilty-look washed over the clear-skinned, teen's face. He also swallowed an obvious lump.

The teacher stuck pushed his glasses back, shoved both hands into his trouser pockets, and jingled his change. He noted a wrinkled brown bag the boy carried. "Did you step out for lunch, Mr. Fisher?"

Ronald lowered his eyes. "I didn't get to eat breakfast, sir." His voice sounded small and girlish.

"You need a hall pass to be out here." The ex-army man watched the kid skitter cowardly toward his classroom. He is definitely one of them. Military taught him how to spot one. He glanced up at the ceiling. Why me God? Why do I get to be so lucky again this year?

Shelly Arkon © 2015

An On-Line Novel: The Immoral : Attacked

Ronald glared back at the girls taunting his BFF.

"What's wrong, Kermy the Froggy?" the girl with the moppy head of curls said, jutting out her lower lip for emphasis. "Piggy get her feelings hurt?"

He didn't respond. Instead he cast his gaze on Cassandra noting her internal conflict.

She was holding her breath, scribbling arrows every which way on the pad Mr. Haggerman left with her.

He reached toward her and yanked the paper away from her.

Cassandra shot him a what-are-you-doing-look at him.

Across the top half, he scrawled down names he knew. Wadsworth and Gruber. And described the others. The whole far right row. The kid with the Jimmy Swaggert hair. He wasn't afraid of these creeps. They could all go suck eggs for all he cared.

His BFF frowned.

"Hey! Look!" Grueber blurted out. "Miss Piggy's boyfriend is Hangman's henchman. He's writing down our names!"

Ronald studied Cassandra's reaction.

She actually breathed only to suck in a gob of air and held it again, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Are you going to write my name down?" some boy shouted from his right. "My name is Alton with an 'A'!" The kid sounded proud.

"How about my name?" A girl with Coke-bottle glasses pounded on her desk to his BFF's left.

The whole classroom broke out into hysterical laughter minus Cassandra. Wadded up balls of paper pummeled against Ronald and Cassandra. Not long after, tiny wet pellets splatted against their cheeks, necks, and heads.

Ronald swiped at the one clinging to his neck. A spit ball. How mature. He'd show these maniacs who not to mess with. These kids needed a visit to the principal's office. That was for sure. Wonder what kind of paddle they use here? At the Lutheran school, they used a ping-pong one. He got it once in the sixth grade for shoving a girl into a thorn bush on the playground. It only took once to fix his wagon.

Cassandra blew out the air she held, gave Ronald a half-smile, and reached for the notepad he had taken from her. After, she wrote: THE ENTIRE CLASS MIS-BEHAVED WHILE YOU WERE OUT!

He gave her a supportive nod. He would back up his BFF in this.

More spit balls flew through the air. This time three plastered themselves onto Ronald's right cheek.

War had now been declared by these hoodlums and he wasn't going to let Cassandra take the heat for it. He would be there to defend her through thick and thin.

He bent toward his right, stuck his hand in his book bag, and fumbled for one of his spiral notebooks. Pulling a blue one out, he plopped it onto his desk and flipped it open. He thumb through three blank pages and ripped them out. A plan for retaliation formed in his mind.

Cassandra mouthed, "What are you going to do?"

He gave her an evil grin, knowing that his plan might get him a visit with the principal and his paddle. But whatever he planned had to be stealth-like. Something menacing. Something these Baptist freaks would never forget.

His BFF raised her brows. She wanted an answer.

He knew the look and stood.

"Where are you going?" she whispered loud enough for only him to hear.

"To the bathroom." He strutted past her with the three sheets of paper and his bagged lunch.

***

Cassandra knew this wasn't going to end well. She couldn't figure why her BFF would risk his first impression for these idiots. They're not worth it. Her way would be to ignore them.

She glanced at his back while he hooked a left into the hallway.

"Where's Kermit going, Piggy?" Grueber tapped her right shoulder. "Is going to eat some flies?"

Cassandra sneered at him over her shoulder. Even that was too much to offer the greasy boy sitting behind her. Wonder if he knows if the giant zit on his nose is about to explode? It was the one thing that stood out on him besides his shiny hair follicles.

Miss Wadsworth let out a snort and pressed her finger against her nose. It made her nostrils flare making her look like a piggish-look. She followed with more grunts and then began to squeal like the farm animal.

The rest of the class followed suit.

The class monitor swung her head around and faced the blackboard. What was taking Mr. Haggerman so long? And why did Ronnie have to leave her alone in a room full of spoiled brats?

Shelly Arkon © 2015

An On-line Novel: The Immoral: Miss Piggy and Kermit the Frog

 

A bell chimed loudly out over the school yard. A ton of teens, both male and female, too many to count, herded to the front of the school building. Ronald scanned each face hoping to find a familiar one besides his BFF. But he didn’t see anyone from the Lutheran school or his neighborhood.

Cassandra stuck to him like Velcro. She never left his side even after they shuffled into the hallway of the building. They both went to the same home room for ninth graders.

“Where do you want to sit?” Ronald glanced around the room. There were more than enough empty desks. The front row sat vacant.

A tall greasy-haired boy stood in front of a chalkboard drawing a hangman. Five girls sat in the very back of the room chattering to each other.

“I don’t care,” Cassandra whispered. “Just as long as we sit together.”

The kid at the chalkboard drew a pair of square-shaped glasses on the stick figure’s face. After, he swirled around laughing, searching the room for someone’s attention to his masterpiece. “This ouhgta make Mr. Hangman feel welcomed.”

 “I thought our home room teacher’s name was Haggermen?” Cassandra plopped in a desk smack dab in the middle of the room, in front of what appeared to be the absent teacher’s.

Ronald sat in the desk to the left of her. “It is. The kid is just being stupid.” He made sure that his BFF could only hear him and set her book bag beside her.

The girls in the back giggled.

One of them said, “She looks like Miss Piggy.”

“And he looks like Kermit the Frog,” another one said through a cackle. “They must be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Ronald raised his brows. “I thought high school was for the more mature.”

“Me, too.” Cassandra twisted her face. “They’re not a very polite for a bunch of Southern Baptist Christian kids.”

“No. They’re not.” He figured as much. His parents hung out with a Southern Baptist couple and they were known for gossiping about anyone. But at the same time they were the most pious people he’d ever known.

“Did you hear that?” one of the girls from behind guffawed. “I believe Kermit croaked and Piggy snorted.”

“Yeah,” another girl agreed.

Before Cassandra and Ronald could even make a comment, from behind, a tall, lanky girl waltzed between them. “My friends and I were talking to the two of you.” She pushed at her dark, bushy curls over her shoulders, giving Ronald a serious look. “Don’t you two have any manners?”

“We had no clue who you were talking to.” Cassandra squinted at the girl.

“Yeah.” Ronald said. “We didn’t realize that we had walked onto the set of The Muppet Show.”

 

 

Shelly Arkon © 2015

 

 

An On-Line Novel: The Immoral- Mrs. Douche-bag

 

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

 

 

An On-Line Novel: The Immoral: Insecurities

Cassandra stood in front of her bedroom mirror, smoothing her plaid skirt out over and over. She moved sideways and sucked in her stomach as tight as she could. It nearly suffocated her doing so. As she let the air out her belly bulged. After, she shifted herself around and glanced over her shoulder at her backside. Bubble-butt. Hiroshima-hips. The fatty. The voices played over and over in her head. She fisted her hands and pounded her hips. Ronnie had told her once that if she’d beat them, it would break up the fatty cells. He had read an article in one of his mother’s Cosmopolitan magazines.

“Sassie!” her mother called.

“Yes!” she hollered back, still staring at her backend, thrashing on her hips. Her diet plan had failed again. They always did. She’d have to try something different. Slimfast maybe. It should be okay for someone my age. The commercial says it’s full of vitamins.

“We need to go. It’s seven-thirty. I can’t be late for my shift.” Her mom was a registered nurse for a nursing home. She went into work early Monday through Friday and was always home by the time Cassandra got home from school.

Cassandra spun around to face the mirror again before scooping up her book bag. At least her curly hair looked alright and she hadn’t had a break out in a long time. Maybe no one will notice my weight. It’s a Christian school. Everyone should be cool with me she told herself.

***

Ronald glanced out the windshield as his stepfather pulled into the Baptist school’s parking lot. Three boys and girl sat at a picnic table under a large tree full of moss. He scanned beyond them, hoping to see Cassandra. But she wasn’t there from what he could see. His shoulders slumped and the pit in his stomach felt as if it would swallow him from the inside out.

“What’s the matter, little Ronnie?” his stepfather smacked his shoulder. “Afraid?”

He didn’t answer, grabbed the car handle, and pushed the door open. Hesitantly, he slid out of the seat and got to his feet, staring straight ahead. He figured if he ignored the head cheese he’d leave or melt away. Maybe he’ll crash his car somewhere today and die. That would’ve been fine with him. God knows he’s not been a real father figure in my life.

“Hey! Aren’t you gonna say good bye?” His stepfather sounded pathetic, kind of whiney. The guy has feelings?

Ronald rolled his eyes. “Bye.”

“Make sure you do what you can to walk like a man, girly-boy.” Those were his stepdad’s last words before he peeled out of the parking lot.

The kids at the picnic table all looked in his direction.

A lump grew in the bottom of his throat and he rolled his shoulders back. He took his stepfather’s advice to act like a man and puffed out his chest. Think John Wayne, he thought. It would be a great travesty if these kids figured out his secret.

 

 

Shelly Arkon©2015

 

 

 

 

 

Unforgettable Blogfest

 

Click this to visit Siv

Today, Siv from Been There, Done That is holding this special blogfest in celebration. Click the above link to find out what she’s celebrating.

For the Unforgettable Blogfest we are supposed to write about a strange and unusual place or person that we’ve visited. One that left a lasting impression and we’ll never forget 

Oh that won’t be hard. Mine have to do with school. But there are several impressionable moments.

1. Miss Bailey was my kindergarten teacher. She realized that I had some learning issues. One of the things all kindergarteners had to master was writing their name. Mastering it was rather difficult for me so one day for the entire afternoon, Ms. Baily had me say my name, sound out each letter while I drew them out across the chalk board over and over.

2. I went to slow class in second grade. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how to read like the other kids. So they sent me to a class with the mentally challenged and one girl with cerebral palsy.

My first day had me wondering why. When I got home that day, I went straight to the bathroom to stare at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t figure out why I was in the class with those kids. I didn’t look or talk  like any of them.

Yes, I’m dyslexic. I confused letters with numbers and vise versa. Letters also danced around, ‘saw’ could be ‘was’. I also had an issue with hearing ‘b’ as ‘d’ and ‘e’ as ‘a’, so forth and so on.

I also had a strange talent for writing words and sentences backwards. To this day when I’m tired or stressed, I will do just that. Write backwards.

3. In the eighth grade, I had the scariest teacher ever but handsome. My class and I watched him slap  wooden tables in two on several occasions.

One day, he threw a whole apple across the room. It splatted across the quietest kid’s forehead. He also took the tallest and muscular eighth grader outside and made him fist fight him. Scary right?

4. I hated high school. I was one of the kids who was bullied. When I walked through the halls, I was saluted with the kids pushing back their noses, snorting at me. They’d chant Miss Piggy. They did other things to me,too, but we won’t go there. But I remember their names and faces.

5. When I was in college, I had the best algebra professor. Professor Papi. He was from India and absolutely hilarious.

When the class talked over him, he would clap his hands and jump around in front of the chalk board and say, “Listen to the board. Let it talk to you. In my class, there is no talking or singing. Only the board is allowed to talk.” I can still hear his thick accent in my head.

Also, toward the end of my final exam, which by the way was like 5 hours long, he came by to take it. I had ten problems left and I was already in tears for fear of failing.

Professor Papi said, “You’re the only one who stuck it out and almost finished. No one else did. You did a good job. Don’t worry.”

I made an ‘A’ in that class and I’ll forever remember Professor Papi.

6. Last but not least, I had the biggest crush on my law professor. Professor Blau. He was sixty back then but he had a beautiful way with words. Everything that came out of his mouth made me melt.

I remember one day going up the escalator, somewhere behind me, he said, “In a another life, Miss So&So. In another life it will be you and me.” The guy gave me goose bumps but I made sure I was never alone with him.

This wraps up my unforgettable places and people.

Secondhand Shoes is still being proofread.

Hugs and chocolate,

Shelly