The bell rang. Children scurried to their seats, pretending they had been there the entire time. There was no order, no seating arrangement; friends sat with friends, enemies sat far away from enemies, and the cliques and claques were well organized.
Rini sat with her possé: Tabitha, Tabetha, Angela, and Kelly-Elly; Ritzer and Beck were drumming on their desks, disturbing the Rini-girls purposefully. Timothy, Arnold, John and Justin, the classroom nerds and geeks, were talking about the books they read over the winter break. Shane, Robert and Cathy were scrambling to put Uno cards away.
Lyza, Emeral and Ket sat quietly at their desks, one of them with his head down, annoyed at the ruckus going on.
The morning announcements came on as Ms. Hupp shut the door. After the pledge, it was a fight but she finally managed to get the kids to quiet down as the lunch menu was being listed: "New on our menu: every Wednesday students will have the option of getting a salad with diced meat, carrots, cheese, grapes, and a side of croûtons—and lettuce of course. Also, fifth-graders, please be aware that recess starts at twelve-fifty, and lunch has moved to eleven-twenty-five."
"Huh?" The students began murmuring, "Recess is earlier?"
"Shh!" Ms. Hupp shushed loudly, standing at the front of the room.
The birthdays were announced, but no one from class was celebrating today.
"And that's it for the morning announcements; the time is now seven twenty-six."
After the sound of the mic being turned off, and after Ms. Hupp compared the clock on the back wall with the school time, she stared at the quiet, obedient little children all sitting orderly in their desks.
"Good morning class," she began, "My name is Ms. Hupp. I will be teacher this year."
Immediately some of the kids began to panic, checking around and making sure that the space-time continuum hadn't sent them back to the beginning of fifth grade.
Ms. Hupp couldn't help but giggle, her slightly-bigger-than-before belly bobbing just a little too noticeably behind her red dress. "I never get tired of doing that." She said aloud.
And then the kids got it—new year, January third. Two-dozen glares met their teacher.
"Oh come on, lighten up you guys," she said waving her hand. "Now, does anyone want to share what they got for Christmas—or what they did for the holidays?"
"I got a Wii!" Blurted John excitedly.
"That's wonderful John, but please remember to raise your hand," Ms. Hupp admonished. Then she looked at the wiggling fingers. "How about you Rini?"
"Santa got me some jewelery," she said proudly, "but mom says I can't wear it to school."
"That's good advice," Ms. Hupp nodded, "We wouldn't want it to go missing."
Emeral suddenly remembered the day she stole the Eye of Horus.
"Lyza?"
"Santa got me a new flute."
"Really? What kind of flute?"
"Are you sure it wasn't just a gigantic whistle for your gigantic head?" Rini snickered. The girls around her began laughing.
"Rini behave!" Ms. Hupp immediately snapped. "Now go on, Lyza, what kind of flute did you get?"
"It's just a Native American Style flute," the rabbit replied somberly.
Emeral nudged Ket. He looked up from his false slumber. "Did you remember...?" Was all she asked, and he nodded, and went back to tuning out the world.
"We went skiing," said Shy William very softly.
"That sounds like a lot of fun," Ms. Hupp said with a smile.
"What did you get Ms. Hupp?" Asked Squeaky Kimberly, a usually silent little mouse who didn't talk much because everyone teased her high voice.
"You mean you haven't noticed yet?"
By now the students were piqued. They stared at their teacher who smiled brightly, standing in front of the whiteboard. The students waited for her to continue for a moment, and then when she didn't they began scanning the room with their curious little eyes, trying to spot something they hadn't noticed before.
"What did you get, Ms. Hupp?"
"Yeaaaah, c'mon, you can tell us..."
"Really?" Ms. Hupp smiled dryly, "I'm not sure I really need to." She put her left leg in front of her right, crossing her ankles, and leaned against the whiteboard. "I mean, really, maybe you're just not looking hard enough."
"I don't see it," Lyza muttered.
"Me neither..." Emeral replied, "there's no new posters or anything...but I can't really remember. Did she always have that picture of George Washington on the cabinets?"
The girls talking nearby him caused Ket to stir. He'd heard the conflict, but payed no attention to it until it started to annoy him that no one took notice of the change after more than a minute in the classroom. It was painfully obvious. But it wasn't as painful as his desire to bring the resolution; it was a feeling he hadn't really felt before.
For the first time—or at least it felt like the first time, but she was sure there was a time before—Emeral saw Ket raise his hand.
"Yes, Ket?"
"Where exactly did you put the chalkboard?"
Ms. Hupps grin broke her raccoon mask from ear to ear. "Why, Ket, whatever do you mean?"
"Hey wait a minute," Kimberly squeaked, "The blackboard turned white..."
Suddenly all of the students saw what they had been staring at for almost ten minutes without really noticing. The dull green matte of the blackboard, upon which chalk had scuffed and scratched all autumn, was now replaced by a clean white that was more pure and more brilliant than snow. Ket was reminded of the way the ice in the skating rink reflected the gas lights on the ceiling, but on the whiteboard the reflection was much more crisp.
"Well, I have to admit all of the fifth grade teachers got them, but mine is the shiniest," Ms. Hupp commented. "But, before you guys go blowing a fuse over the new whiteboard, I have another surprise in store for you."
"What is it?" Asked Arthur.
"Well, while we wait for it, I would like to talk about the change in lunch-recess schedule," Ms. Hupp began, eliciting a groan from the students; "There's going to be some construction going on in the morning, so lunches for the lower grades are going to be pushed later. Unfortunately, we—fifth grade—are eating lunch the latest. The schedule is normal until after alternative class; instead of having our activity break followed by lunch, you'll come back from the gym or the music room and we'll get right into math."
A shocked what? emitted from much of the class, but Ms. Hupp ignored it.
"After that we'll have recess until twelve thirty," She started writing the new schedule on the board, "Then we get to have lunch, and after that is Social Studies or Science, with a little break at the end of the day. Any questions?—Arthur."
"Does that mean math class is longer?"
Ms. Hupp shook her head. "No, all the classes are the same forty-five minutes. Actually, we get an extra ten minutes for recess."
The class groaned again—but distinctively differently from the groan before.
"What if we get hungry?" Tabitha asked after she was called. "My tummy will get angry at me if we're not eating till close to one!"
"That's a good question, Bitty," Ms. Hupp replied, "Nothing is official yet, but we're going to see if we can allow a 'snack time' where you can bring some crackers or something to tide you over." She held up a hand, "I'm sure Mr. Pretty and Mrs. Gauss will agree to that."
Just as the kids were about to voice their loud and collective opinion, there was a knock at the door. The uproar was deferred.
"Come in," called Ms. Hupp.
The door opened to reveal a white polar bear who was very tall and very old. Mrs. Oulryk (pronounced wool-rick) was the school's main counselor, and she has held that title at Lonely Oak Elementary for a very, very long time. She is also known to the students as Gentle Ouly (wooly); a hypocorism that has been kept alive by generations of students passing it on by word of mouth.
She was called "gentle" because she had a very bright heart; a heart which shined three times brighter than her fur in the sunlight (which was bad for her, as she burned rather easily). She was not just one of the three school counselors; she was the school counselor. She always knew just what to say to anyone for anything. She was extremely soft-spoken, if even that loud. She never yelled—at least, not any more.
There was a story she told during Red Ribbon Week. She did not tell it to Lonely Oak or any other Elementary or Middle School. She went to the High Schools all over the district during that week, and told her story to the kids there, who could handle it a little more maturely.
Lyza and Emeral knew the story though. Kval had told them.
It was a rainy night just a few years ago. Mrs. Oulryk and her husband were in a terrible argument. They raised their voices, called each other names, said things that they would regret later. She yelled at him furiously, and scared him out of the house. He went into the car, turned on the ignition and she was glad when she heard the wet rubber tires peel as he sped away, giving her a house full of peace.
Then a little while passed and she felt badly. She wished she hadn't done what she did, said what she said, yelled what she yelled. She stayed up late that night, waiting for him, listening to the rain. She waited, and waited—but he did not return.
Mr. Oulryk did not desert his wife. The next day she received a call from the hospital. Her husband had died of major complications. A drunk driver hit him head-on, and he was ejected from the car. When Emeral asked her mom what "ejected" meant, she learned that in a car crash sometimes—unfortunately—people wind up outside of the car and on the street.
The drunk driver survived the crash with a bloody nose, chipped fang, and an inch-long cut on the back of his right hand.
Mrs. Oulryk told the story to warn the kids that drinking and driving can hurt people that aren't even involved.
But there was one more thing that Lyza cried about the most. And when she told what it was, Kval and Emeral cried too. Gentle Ouly never did get to say she was sorry to her husband.
"I'm so sorry we're late."
Now, she apologized for almost everything.
Thankfully, Emeral did not have to look at Gentle Ouly alone, for the school counselor was not the surprise—although any time she came by was a nice surprise. The surprise was attached to Mrs. Oulryk's left hand. The polar bear walked into the room, her soft blue dress complementing her fur color—so Emeral thought and took note of.
When Mrs. Oulryk and her company went to the center of the room, they turned around for the class to see.
The little boy was a very short, and very pudgy panda. He wore a yellow shirt and bluejeans, held against his belly by dark-blue suspenders. His face was round and he had almost no neck; his shoulders appeared to taper straight from the side of his head. It was a little more the darkness of his fur that created that illusion, rather than his thickness.
Gentle Ouley apologized softly once again, "We couldn't find the room." Of course she was referring to the little boy, as she knew every square inch of the campus with her eyes closed, her ears and nose plugged, and three hands tied behind her back.
"That's all right, Mrs. Oulryk. Class," Ms. Hupp addressed, "I'd like you to meet our new student. This is Pan, Pan Da. Everyone say 'hello'."
"Hi, Pan," said the class in unison. After the greeting, two boys were suppressing snickers.
"Is there a problem, Ritzer?" Ms. Hupp questioned.
"H-hu-h?" The lion responded, resisting as best he could not to smile—he glanced at Beck, who flared his whiskers; Ritzer bit his lip. "N-no, it's nothing. Beck just made a joke, that's all."
"Oh! Well then why don't you share it with all of us, Beck?"
"Hah! Ah-no, I uh..." Beck, a jittery chihuahua, began fidgeting, "It was...just a little knock-knock joke."
"Well, I'd like to hear it please."
Nervously, Beck muttered, "Uh...knock-knock?"
"Who's there?"
"Dishes..."
"Dishes who?"
"Dishes da paleesh...open up?"
Emeral heard a cricket somewhere in her ear.
"That was very funny, Beck," Mrs. Oulryk replied with a bit of a laugh, "Maybe you'd like to share more jokes with Pan?" She addressed the panda, "There's an empty seat over there dear, why don't you take it?"
Quietly, the boy waddled over on big, flat feet, and took the seat behind Beck.
"All right then," the counselor said with soft satisfaction, "I think I'll be heading back to the office. See you later kiddos, sorry I couldn't stay longer."
"Good-byeee Mrs. Oulryk," the glass said in staccato.
Ms. Hupp clapped her hands and picked up a marker; "Okay kids, I know Pan is here halfway through but I hope you will all pitch in to help him get up to speed with us—especially after he does a Getting to Know Me presentation. But until then," she began writing on the board, in bright red, "We're going to have a quiz to see just how much your little brains have retained over the holidays!"
