Lyza made hardly a sound as she shuffled into the classroom. Her backpack was pulled snugly against her, its weight beginning to take a toll on her posture. It carried a few extra books that she normally did not bring to school. When she went to hang it on the gigantic meat-hook, she had to struggle against gravity to lift it with both hands.
Ms. Hupp didn't waste any time. Before any of the kids sat down she had them take the stuff out of their old desk and move it to the new. So, on top of already being sore-armed and trembling, Lyza had to carry all of her old books all the way across the room to the other side.
She was moved to a spot that was close to where she had sat at the beginning of the year. It was the nicer side of the room; the side where the windows stretched all the way from the cabinets to the whiteboard. It was normally very nice and sunny on this side of the room, especially in the afternoon when the sun cast bright squares inside that were warming and fun to sit in.
But today it was a bit dreary out, as if the sky was sad that vacation was over, and everyone was back inside.
Lyza set all of her things down and looked at the cubby-hole of her desk. It was empty, save for a few clippings of paper and pencil-shavings. She quickly brushed it all out and shoved all of her things in, for order would come later. Then she sat in the chair and scooted it back as far as she could. She was almost right against the wall, so the back feet of her chair butted against the painted bricks. But, there was just enough room for when she wanted to rest her head down.
She let her ears take over, doing just that. The dominant sense of her hearing picked up every noise. From Justin whispering to William about how he almost held a girl's hand at the movies; to Panda, as he passed through the doorway with a wheeze in his nose.
Ms. Hupp greeted Ket and Emmy, and told them the routine of the morning. Then came what sounded like a pair of shoes tapping together, before they went in almost separate directions.
The bell rang, hurting her acute hearing just a little. Normally she was prepared for it, but there were some times when it just caught her off guard. And then the speaker started crackling right away. It was Mrs. Gauss, the vice principal; she could tell just by crackle. It always had a quick thump to it, maybe because she grabbed the microphone and hit it with her thumb.
”Good morning Lonely Oak. Please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance.”
As a phalanx of automatons, the kids rose from their desks and placed their hands over their hearts. It was a routine so ingrained into them that they were able to do it while half-asleep. And after a long break, every precious second of drowsiness before the day's start was worth more than a pound of candy.
”Please sit for a moment of silence.”
It was never fully silent, not to a rabbit. She returned to her former position; head down, ears soaking-in what her eyes did not see. Wheezing breaths, sniffles, the irritating click of Angela nibbling her fingernail, and Beck tapping his foot against the front leg of his desk.
”And now time for the morning announcements.”
There was always a bit of tension here. This was like the scary parts in horror movies. The ones where the viewer knows it's coming, but can't look away, and dreads every moment until it happens. At some point the announcements would end, and then Ms. Hupp would jump right into things, especially with the RSBTs drawing ever nearer.
”The lunch menu today is corn dogs with corn-on-the-cob, and corn bread. Hoooow corny!”
No thanks. I'll have a salad.
”And finally: Fourth and Fifth graders, do you know what time it is?” She paused.
Lyza felt the presence as soon as it opened the door.
”That's right! Lonely Oak's tenth biennial Fourth versus Fifth Grade Spelling Bee!”
The way the air around her whipped crisply. The way her movements commanded attention and notice. The way every toe in her step had confidence and grace.
”So get ready for this Friday, when we find out which grade is the beeeeeeeeeeeeeee-e-s-t, at spelling! Your teachers will tell you more about it. The school time is seven thirty-six. Have a great day!”
And when she finally took her seat, it was in the midst of silence so that everyone would know that she had arrived at her spot.
Lyza felt the tremor as the rat sat upon her plastic throne. And she gave in to it; she looked up, for the rat commanded the attention of everyone like a princess over her kingdom.
”Morning, Rini,” Justin mumbled.
The rat turned to the hedgehog boy and ever-so-subtly flexed her cheek and squinted her eye. It looked more like she had twitched than given him a look of contempt, but to the rabbit she openly shifted her pupils in disdain.
Lyza gazed on blankly, the two desks that separated them empty of kids. There were nineteen kids in Ms. Hupp's class, and twenty two desks. Although Ritzer was absent, his desk was once again nearer to Ms. Hupp's.
Speaking of their teacher, and of her desk, she was busy moving things about across the top. The silence that passed about the room was very tense and awkward. The unexpected linger of the chance to hold a blank mind was a pleasant thing. But, that only made the foreboding interruption that much more perturbing.
And like the shattering of a brittle pane of untempered glass, she stood up, and ended their vacation.
”Good morning, guys'n'gals.” She greeted, moving to the front of the room. “How was everyone's break?”
A few groans, of “good” and “okay” and “so-so.” The severing of their peaceful vacation was pain enough, did she have to try and rouse such a response out of them first-thing?
”Well, I had a wonderful break. I went to meet an old friend of mine in Paris, and got to see the Eiffel Tower.”
”I got to see the Eiffel Tower once.”
Of course you did, Lyza thought grumpily.
”You have, Rini?” Ms. Hupp smiled. “When did you go?”
”A few years ago,” the rat replied. “I don't remember a whole lot, but I do remember seeing the Tower.”
”Well that's wonderful! Did you do anything interesting this break?”
”Maybe,” Rini replied. “I did a lot of shopping and went to the museum with my mom.”
”That's very interesting. Did anyone else do something fun over the break?”
”I didn't!” Tommy spoke, “But my brother went cliff diving.”
”That sounds dangerous,” Cathy commented.
”Some people like the thrill,” Ms. Hupp answered. “I hope he had fun and was safe.”
”He broke his arm!” The boy replied excitedly.
Ms. Hupp managed to keep her smile. “Well, in that case, I hope he has a safe recovery. Kimberly?”
”I went to a gymnastics competition. My team got fourth overall, but I got second with my routine.”
”That's c—” William started to compliment, but he cut his voice short.
Ms. Hupp did not let the silence pass slowly at all. ”I'm glad, Kim. It sounds like you had fun. Anyone else? Lew.”
”I went on a cruise,” the weasel said.
”That sounds like a lot of fun,” Ms. Hupp guessed.
”Well... it was kinda boring. And crowded. And I got seasick a lot.”
”Oh... I'm sorry to hear that. But you had fun?”
”Yeah.”
”Well, good. Anyone else? Speak up.”
The class was silent for a moment.
”Anyone? C'mon. Did the rest of you just sit on your lazies all day? I'm sure someone else did something interesting. Lyza?”
”Huh?” The rabbit spoke, more sleepily than she meant to. “What?”
”Did you have any concerts over the break?”
She squinted an eye. “Kind of,” she responded, a little irritated. Why did she have to get called out?
”Where?”
What was this, an interrogation? “Just...some old-peoples' home, I dunno.”
”Hm...” Ms. Hupp swept her eyes over the kids once more. “Well, I guess if no one else wants to share we should get started.” She went back to her desk, and then made a sound of recollection. “Oh, I almost forgot. You kids might have heard something about the spelling bee on Friday, right?”
Some heads nodded.
”Well, it's just a little something we do every other year. It's nothing big, just a fun little spelling bee between the fourth- and the fifth-graders. It's going to be held on Friday for part of the day. If you want to participate, you can sign up on this sheet,” she lifted it up slightly, “but be mindful you'll have to stay after school on Wednesday. So, if you sign up and you can't make the practice, you may not be able to participate.” She handed the sheet to the student nearest her desk.
”Now then,” She went to the center of the room, and sat upon the stool she sometimes used. “RSBTs are three weeks away. I know that sounds like a long time, but I guarantee you it's not as much time as you think. So... about the essay section. Can anyone tell me the different kinds of essays you can write? ...I know at least one of you remembers. Kim.”
”Compare and contrast,” the mouse-girl spoke gingerly.
”And...?”
”Oh... I have to list them all...?”
The class chuckled.
”Give it a try,” Ms. Hupp spoke encouragingly.
”Um... Compare and contrast, cause and effect, descriptive, narrative... and critical.” She said, taking a lot of effort to remember the last one.
”And...?” Ms. Hupp said; “There's one more.”
”Um...” Kimberly bit her lip. “I don't...know...”
”Would anyone else like to try?”
Ket raised his hand. “Dialectic,” he stated, without actually being called upon.
”Oh... that is one,” Ms. Hupp said with a wink, “But it's not one we go over this time around.”
”Oh oh! I remember!” Kimberly squeaked. “It's class. Class-something.”
”Yep, you're half-right, do you remember it all the way?”
”Class...class... Classifaction.” The girl finally stated.
”Close!” Ms. Hupp replied.
”Classifunction?”
”Not quite...”
”Classeration?”
”Almost there...”
As the mouse struggled to think, the class began to murmur and chuckle.
”Classification.”
A few heads turned.
Ms. Hupp gazed upon the one who responded with a bit of surprise; more in the way she responded. It sounded like she was irritated. “That's correct, Lyza,” the teacher said. “But, please raise your hand next time, okay?”
”Yes ma'am.” The rabbit-doe replied.
”Yeesh,” Rini muttered to herself, “What's her problem?”
Lyza heard it. Maybe the rat-girl didn't think she could hear the sotto vocé comment, but she had heard it just as if Rini had said it aloud.
”Psst.”
Lyza glanced to her left, to see Justin trying to get her attention. He presented the sheet for the spelling bee, which she took lest it be thrown at her. She looked at the blank paper. Apparently the entire class had played hot-potato with it, no one opting to sign up.
She played along, but she wasn't looking forward to passing it on to the girl in front of her.
”Rini.” she whispered curtly. But there was no response. “Rini,” she said a little more loudly. But the girl was still lost in her own preppy brain. Not eager to speak her name again, she reached forward with the paper to try and tap the girl on the shoulder with it.
”What?” Rini snapped.
”It's the spelling bee.” Lyza stated.
”I don't want it.”
”Take it anyway!”
”Fine!”
”Girls,” Ms. Hupp called. “Are you listening?”
”Yes ma'am,” both girls responded, like a reflex.
”Then tell me, what was the last thing I just said?”
Both girls stared blankly out into the classroom.
”Something about the different styles of essays?” Rini finally responded.
”After that.”
”I don't know! Lyza was bothering me!”
”I was trying to give you the spelling bee paper!”
”Girls, please. It's a piece of paper; it's not that hard. Lyza, you ask Rini to take it, Rini you take it.”
”But she won't take it!” Lyza started to say.
”I said I'd take it.” Rini stated, finally taking the paper. “There, happy now?”
Lyza sat back down, her cheeks burning red, and her ears swiveling to hide their reddened tips behind her shoulders.
Rini hastily scribbled on the paper and handed it off to Lew.
The paper went up that short row, for the twenty-second desk was sitting alone in the corner of the room, and back down to Lew. He took the piece of paper and handed it to Ms. Hupp.
”Thanks.” She said, interrupting herself. “So, now that we've reviewed the six types of essays we've learned, we're going to start writing essays. Before we start, though, everyone is familiar with the way the test works, right?”
”Actually, ma'am,” Panda raised his hand. “Could you go over it again? I never had to write an essay before, so...”
”Sure,” Ms. Hupp stood up and grabbed a green dry-erase marker. “The essay portion will have a 'prompt',” she wrote the word on the board and drew a circle around it. “Based on what the prompt wants, you'll have to write in one of the different styles of essays. The prompts are meant to be a little flexible, but usually it's geared toward two or three styles.” She drew six lines from the circle.
Then she wrote the letters U, S, and A on the board.
Abbreviate letters in place of words.
”Your essay is given a grade of either 'Unsatisfactory,'” she pointed to the U, “'Satisfactory;' or, if you do exceedingly well, 'Accomplished.'” Her marker clacked upon the board as she hit the A. “Very few people get an A, because it's very tough. For now, getting a U will not hold you back, but it may mean you will have to take special remedial courses in sixth grade, so it's important to get an S. Everyone understand?”
There were a few head-bobs, but the one that she really wanted to make sure was Panda. He nodded, leaning back in his seat, and so she began erasing the board.
”Okay then, now that we're all clear on how this works... Until eight-fifteen,” she went back to the board and wrote out the prompt; “I want you to write a compare-and-contrast over the fun you had over Spring Break, and the fun you had over the holidays.”
* * *
The hour of lunch was at hand. Or, in their case, the half-hour. The line into the serving lane curled against the back wall. Lyza was still a few moments from the entrance, but thankfully they weren't on the bad-end of the rotation anymore. It was painful when they were the last ones to enter the cafeteria by way of lottery. Once they got their food, they barely had time to eat it.
As she went through the doorway, the miasma of smells hit her nose. Corn-dogs had a distinctly sickening smell that she couldn't stand. It was probably because anytime her mother tried recipes with corn-bread she always messed it up. The trauma just stuck, was all.
She reached into the freezer-box's large maw to grab the milk. When they had lunch earlier in the day it was usually cooler and the carton was dry. But now, at a quarter to one, the freezer-box had lost much of its capacity and the cartons were covered in a slick wet film of condensation.
Thankfully, the individually wrapped silverware absorbed some of the syrupy water, which left behind a purple-black residue of ink from the carton. She shuffled further along with the line, entering the din of the serving lane. The cough-shield was almost worthless as the kids' mouth-height was right at the open rift just above the metal.
Lyza vocalized her order for a salad, and had to repeat it a couple times. The lunch-ladies always needed some kids to repeat orders because of all the clattering and sizzling. One of them departed from their station for just a moment as she went to the fridge to grab the Styrofoam salad bowl.
And from there it was just a waiting game. William, Kelly-Elly and the twins were all that stood in her way to sitting down and partaking in a delectably bland school meal.
At last she was out! She couldn't stand the smell any longer, too.
There was a rumor going around that if they got too loud, there would be assigned seating in the cafeteria. But until then, they had free reign over where they wanted to sit. It was a perk that she was only used to since fourth grade, and one that she rather liked. She had a few favorite spots, all of them a bit out-of-the-way.
The tables were set up in long rows all the way to the back of the cafeteria to almost right against the stage steps. But there was another row of tables perpendicular to them that went against the inner wall that separated the cafeteria from the fifth-grade hallway foyer. This table was known for being sparse of kids. In fact the lunch-ladies would often sit at the end close to the serving room to eat their own lunches.
She picked a spot between two groups. To her left, boys talked about a videogame that had just come out, and to her right a group of boys and girls were eating quietly. She sat closer to the quiet eaters, but still did not encroach upon them.
She tore the flaps of the milk carton fairly wide, and when she pulled the opening free a gossamer hangnail of cardboard threatened to fall in. She opened the utensils package and put the straw in, taking a quick sip. It didn't taste much like anything at all, barely better than tap-water. She didn't much like skim, but it was all the school offered.
Then she tended to her salad. It had cubed ham, spinach, carrot slivers, red cabbage and, of course, iceberg lettuce. On the side it came with ranch and cheese; she poured the ranch evenly across the top and left the cheese alone.
She grabbed her fork, preparing to eat.
Clack. Clack.
”I'm starving.” Emeral said as she sat down by her friend, whipping a hand through her hair to keep it away from her tray.
Tiger sat across from tigress. “Didn't you eat breakfast?” He asked.
”I did,” she replied, picking up the buttered corn-bread and taking a bite. She paused in her chewing, shoving the food to one cheek to say, “but all the studying we're doing is just making me hungry.”
Lyza took in a deep breath, but it was adulterated with the musk of cornbread. It was not a satisfying or calming feeling.
”You must be hungry too, Lyz. That's a big salad.”
She shrugged, a fork-full of lettuce and carrots poised just before her mouth. “It's the same salad as always,” she muttered, and then consumed.
”Why didn't you get a corn-dog?” Emmy asked, picking hers up and looking it over. “We don't get these very often. Oooh this one's perfect.” She turned it to one side and saw the slightly over-burned marks on the breading.
”I just... didn't want one,” the rabbit replied, as her friend took a large chunk out of the dog.
”Still getting used to being back at school?” Ket questioned calmly.
He was wrong, but thankfully he never asked the open-ended questions. Because of his polar question, she was able to reply with a quick, “Yeah,” and eat another forkful.
”Tell me about it.” Emeral grumbled. “I almost decided to just sleep in.”
”Hey;” Panda's voice called as he shimmied close against the wall behind Ket to get on the tiger's other side. “Mind if I sit with you guys?”
”Sure,” Ket replied, giving the bear a bit of extra room.
”Another salad-eater, eh?” Emeral smiled, noticing Panda had the same Styrofoam bowl that Lyza did.
”Yeah,” he sat down and popped off the plastic lid. “I hate corn-dogs. They smell terrible.”
”Aw but they taste so good,” Emmy stated, biting into the over-burnt breading. “'Specially when they make them crispy.”
”No thanks,” the bear replied, spreading the dressing with a practiced hand. “Ket may not like salads, but I can eat 'em any day.”
Emeral raised a brow. “You don't like salads?”
He shook his head. “You can have your salad if I can have my corn-dog.”
”Fair 'nuff,” Panda agreed, digging in. “So...” He began, taking on a less light-hearted tone. “You guys take the RSBT before?”
”Second grade,” Emeral responded, before her mouth was full again.
”Well, I've taken this one before,” Ket replied, although not with any particular tone.
”Was it... very tough?”
Lyza paused in her chewing.
Ket shook his head. “Not really. We spend so much time studying for it that by the time it comes around you're pretty well prepared. The only hard part is the writing.”
”I'm not looking forward to that,” Emeral said.
”Last year,” Ket said, “They tried to make a big deal about having people get A's on the writing. But about half the kids wound up getting a U and no one got an A anyway. I guess this year they're just looking to get S's, based on what Ms. Hupp said.”
”I bet you'd get an A no problem,” Panda stated.
“I'm not very good at writing, actually. But I'm sure we'll all do fine; they only give a U to people who blatantly don't write about the prompt.”
”Blatantly?”
Emeral had almost forgotten Lyza was there. She had been so quiet for the past little while.
”It's another word for 'obviously',” the tiger explained.
”And that's why you'll get an A,” Panda pointed out, taking another forkful as if to ward off any opposing thoughts.
”I bet Ritzer was one of the people who got a U last year,” Emeral said.
”Speaking of Ritzer,” Lyza said. “I wonder where he is.”
”Sick,” Panda replied.
Emeral squinted an eye. “How do you know?”
The bear blinked, fork between his lips. “Mmm!” he was quick to chew and swallow. “I mean...that's what I guess. He's sick a lot, ya know? I just figure...”
”If he's not sick,” Ket said, picking up his corn-on-the-cob, “He's probably just skipping.”
”Yeah,” the bear said, “That's probly it. ...Anyway...” He grabbed at his half-eaten salad, “I guess we'd better go.”
”Go?” The tigress questioned. “We still have, like,” she pulled out her phone, peeking at the screen. “Ten minutes.”
”Oh...” He still kept his hands on the bowl. “Um...I think I'm gonna go talk to Justin and the guys. They were talking about doing some RSBT practice... later!”
Ket had to squish toward the seat again as the bear passed behind, heading toward the other tables, disappearing into the crowds.
”There he goes...” Emeral said. She looked at her tray. “Awww,” She whimpered.
”What?” Lyza asked, sounding more genuine than she had that entire day.
”I finished my corn-dog,” Emeral pouted.
”Oh...” The rabbit's ears drooped.
Ket hid a chuckle.
Lyza heard another shoe-tap under the table.
* * *
Just a few moments before the final bell would ring. Rini had already left, adorned in her light-green crown and vibrant orange sash of authority.
”Remember, everyone,” Ms. Hupp said amidst that final call; “If you didn't finish your essay from this morning you should take some time to finish it tonight. We're doing one every day so don't get behind!—Oh, Lyza.”
The rabbit stopped, her foot scuffing as she heard her name. “Huh?”
”Could you come here for a second, sweetie.” The raccoon called, beckoning toward the seat by her desk.
Lyza pushed through the departing crowd and set her backpack on the ground, and her rear sideways in the chair.
Ms. Hupp smiled. “I just wanted to touch base with you really quick about Wednesday—”
”Wednesday?” Lyza questioned.
”Mmhmm,” her teacher nodded. “That's the day you'll need to practice for the spelling bee.” She received only a blank stare from the girl. “I passed the paper around this morning, remember? You're the only one in the class that signed up.”
”O—oh...” She looked to the side.
”Are you feeling all right? I noticed you were kind of distant today...”
”I just...didn't get much sleep last night.”
”Oh, I see. Still getting back into rhythm from the vacation, huh?” The raccoon replied cheerily.
”Maybe...” Lyza's eyes blinked slowly; even as she talked about it she began to feel sleepy.
”Well, you'd better get lots of rest tonight. On Wednesday, you'll need to stay for about forty-five minutes or so after school, in the music room. So I'd like you to make sure that's okay with your parents, got it?”
”Yes ma'am,” Lyza replied, nodding.
”And...while you're at it...” Ms. Hupp bit her lip. “I need to have a quick meeting with them...about your grades.” The way she said it had the inflection of a question.
She nodded. “Okay.”
”All right. I promise there won't be a lot of homework over the next few days. Did you finish your essay?” The rabbit nodded. “That's good,” she clapped her hands on her knees. “Then you can get a good night's sleep.”
”Mmhmm,” She replied dismissively. “I gotta go, bye.”
”Bye!”
Lyza made her way out the door. She briefly glanced to her left to see Ket and Emeral standing by the near door to the music room, and Emeral managed to give a wave. She raised her hand limply in response, and headed down the hall.
Her brother was already there at the curb. She made sure the teacher on duty saw her get into the right car. Even though she was eager to leave the school grounds, her demeanor was reserved. She opened the door and hopped in, but she felt like a robot as she did so.
”Good day?” Her brother asked.
”Sure,” she replied.
”My day's up-and-down. I wish it ended as soon as yours did.”
She waited a second before she spoke. “Mine's going to be long on Wednesday.”
”Why's that?”
”I... signed up for a spelling bee,” she explained, as much to herself as to her brother. “I have to stay for about an hour that day; for practice.”
”Huh...” Her brother said, as if he was having to digest the concept. “Well, that sounds like a lotta fun. I'll be glad to pick you up later, then.”
”But isn't your off-period right now? You'd be missing school...”
”School, schmool.” He said, his hand batting the worry away before clapping onto the steering wheel. “I want to make sure you can do the things you want to do.”
”...I've... I've also gotta have a meeting. I think Ms. Hupp wants it to be after the practice.”
”Is it about the grades?” He glanced over to see her nod.
”How should I tell mom and dad?” She asked, showing a little bit of nervousness and fear in her tone.
Kval thought for just a moment as he merged into the lane that would take them on their merry way. “Why don't you let me handle that.” He suggested.
”...Really?” She questioned.
”Sure. I'll work it out, don't worry.”
The rest of their ride home was silent, save for the Beethoven that played just softly enough to close the eyes. In fact, she was startled when the car parked before their driveway.
”Thanks... For dealing with mom and dad for me,” she said, her hand catching the loop of her backpack.
”No problem. Oh hey,” he called as she opened the door; “Could you tell mom that everyone in home-ec loved the Khalva?”
At the mentioning of her favorite dessert, a smile finally crept on her face. “Okay,” she agreed. She shut the car door, but it did not quite close. She bumped it with her hip, and tapped it with her knuckles a couple times before finally walking away. She turned and waved after she opened the door, and he rolled on down the street.
”Mama, YA doma!”
”Privet, Lyza,” her mom called from the office room.
She walked the shortest path, only four turns, to the room, and met her mom in person as she typed upon the keyboard. She went and they shared a kiss to the other's cheek.
”Kval says everyone in his class liked the Khalva,” She delivered, first thing.
Her mom smiled, her broad chin rounding. “Ist goot' I teetch heem to cook vwell, ne tak li?”
”Da.” Lyza agreed. She hefted her backpack. “I'm gonna go study.”
”Okay. Hahsz vhun,” she hollered as her daughter walked briskly out the other passageway.
Lyza made her way to her bedroom and, set her backpack on the ground with a heavy thump. She unzipped it immediately and pulled out her binder. Setting it upon her bed, she went to the English section and popped the rings, the noise sharp to her sensitive ears. She pulled out a few sheets of paper, saturated with letters in black ink. She also retrieved several blank sheets.
She left her room, and took a right. Not much farther than a yard's walk, she came to the door so off-putting to the rest of the house. She gripped the knob, which was also unique, and turned it to open the stigmatic door. It did not even behave like the other doors of the house; it lacked the old and homely grumble as its hinges were forced to move. It was just pure and passive silence, like a submissive guard.
She went into his room, and headed for his desk. She often used it when he was not there to do her homework before he got home.
The chair slid without a noise as she pulled it. Kval had fashioned the bottoms with carpeting because it used to wake her up when he worked into the night to improve his grades. And now, she was going to set about to improve her own.
She set the papers down upon the desk. Her finished essay greeted her, curious to know what she was going to do. Aren't I finished? It seemed to question. As if in answer, she retrieved a red pen from the mug at the far corner of the desk.
Within the first sentence she found a flaw, and exposed it with a bloody slash.
