Premonitions

by Daniel Ormont

  “Sounds neat, but that won’t work here.”

  “Sure it will! I bet we can come up with something.”

  The pals pondered such matters until their heads hurt. “That class schedule is crazy,” Danny said at last. “I’ll never memorize it.”

  “You will…in time,” Andy sighed. “We always do.”

  “You mean, it’s always so jumbled?”

  “Something has to come first.”

  “A schedule implies order, don’tcha think?

  “It has an order – random order! Don’t let it bug ya.” Andy felt the heat radiating from his friend’s burning curiosity. “Would it help if I said science always comes first?”

  “Except on Tuesdays. …What’s so special about Tuesdays?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” Andy sighed. “Nothing at all.”

  “Heck, at least Tuesdays-Thursdays would be routine.”

  “Just the luck of the draw. It’s all random, I tell ya!”

  “I dunno,” Danny sighed. “There’s a pattern in there, somewhere...”

  “Honestly, Stan!” the woman huffed. “Save the pep talks for your students.”

  “Our students, remember Edna? You must make it happen. Take the first step.”

  The woman turned pale. “You’re joking! Why should I make the first move?”

  “Oh, I don’t know…because you are their role model, perhaps?

  “The tail doesn’t wag the dog…”

  “Bend a little, Edna, before they break.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Win their trust.”

  “Oh, Stanley…” the woman cackled. “Be serious!”

  “I am seri— Ouch!”

  “Whatever’s the matter?”

  “Oh, nothing…” The man held his stomach. “Just the start of another ulcer.”

  “Seems the same thing happened last year.”

  “Funny, it never happens over the summer…”

  “Ha! See what all your worrying is worth?” Edna scolded. “Try following my example.”

  “Perish the thought…”

  “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Trust me, Edna,” Mr. Foster winked. “No medicine can cure what’s ailing me.”

  “Say!” Andy was hit by a brainstorm. “Do you have a yo-yo at home?”

  “Yes,” Danny frowned. “…I was never any good with them.”

  “I’ll teach you!”

  “Great, but…why?”

  “Just bring your yo-yo to school tomorrow,” Andy cheered. “And, I’ll bring mine.”

  “Ok…say, I’m starved. What do they serve for lunch around here, anyway?”

  “Scrapple sandwiches.”

  “Scrapple sandwiches?” Danny was stunned. “Who’s ever heard of that?”

  “They’ll push anything on us.”

  “At my old school, we ate a lot of pizza. It’s just not fair…”

  “What’s not fair?”

  “Scrapple…” Danny laughed. “How come there’s scrapple, but no Santa Claus?”

  “Good question! Hope you weren’t planning to buy lunch…”

  “Neah, I brown bagged it. I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

  “Better get used to it,” Andy sucker-punched Danny’s shoulder. “Neither are we!

  CHAPTER XIII

  The Girl With the Curl

  That first week of school crawled at a snail’s pace with the vicious homework cycle well established. Unfinished classwork spilled into homework with homework reviewed as classwork; rinse and repeat. Come Friday, the children prayed for a reprieve. Mr. Foster was kind enough to waive a weekend assignment. But, would Mrs. Fishbine have a heart?

  Reading Class:

  “Since it is Friday,” Mrs. Fishbine began. “I thought you would all enjoy a story…if you can be quiet.”

  The effervescent class simmered into silence. All eyes focused on the teacher.

  “Now, this story,” she began, burying her face in her book, “is about a creature…an animal, actually.” The woman waltzed around the room; her cadence kept pace with her steps. “…A pet, of sorts.” Her heels clomped the tiles like hooves on cobblestone. “…A mouse, to be precise.” Mrs. Fishbine’s pilgrimage ended at the rear desk. “…A pet mouse named Daniel.”

  “Daniel?” The woman peered down her nose at the child. “That’s your name, is it not?”

  Some children giggled.

  “Actually, I prefer…”

  “Don’t start!”

  “If you’d only listen…”

  Mrs. Fishbine cut down his protest with one razor sharp glance. “Anyway, this mouse,” she continued, “was the pet of a boy named Johnny.” The teacher lowered her book. “You don’t have a brother by that name, do you, Daniel?” his peers chuckled.

  “Nope – just me.”

  “Thank heaven for that!” Mrs. Fishbine poked her nose back in the book. “Now, this little mouse was very curious…” The cyclops groped the class with a suspicious eye. “He was always asking Johnny questions, like…”

  “Is this a true story?” a girl whined.

  “Class, do you think this story is real?”

  “No, Mrs. Fishbine,” the zombies droned in unison.

  “Can animals talk to people?”

  “No, Mrs. Fishbine…”

  “And, can anyone talk to animals?”

  “No…”

  “Mrs. Fishbine?” Danny raised his hand. “I met a lady who can.”

  “Can? …Can what?”

  “Talk to the birds. She told them where to build their nest.”

  “Is that so?”

  “That’s right…so they wouldn’t get killed.”

  His classmates snickered.

  “That will do, Daniel. Settle down, people…”

  “You know…by the stray cats.”

  Heckles taunted the child. The woman stomped her foot. “I said, that’s enough!”

  “Of course, she had to warn the mice, too...”

  Uproarious laughter rocked the room with aftershocks of hoots, whistles, and catcalls. Contorted bodies failed to stifle full-blown, belly-blasted guffaws. Sidesplitting hysterics ignited in rounds. Students, doubled over in fits of pain, busted a gut. Raspy voices pleaded for air. Hands clapped, feet stomped, eyes watered, teeth chattered, and…

  Bam! Bam! BOOM!!! The teacher slammed the text upon the table. The room grew deathly quiet. A bone-chilling silence gripped the children. “All right, class!” the woman wailed. “You’re all punished!” The children quaked, fearing the wrath of Mrs. Fishbine. “Forget the story... You can all write sentences!”

  The class groaned. “Good job, Mouse!” The feather-haired bully shoved Danny out of his chair. Giggles rippled across the room.

  “Daniel!” The teacher snapped, witnessing only the aftermath. “Go clean Pickles’ cage!”

  Pickles, the class mascot, was a white mouse. Danny approached the terrarium. The meek animal propped one foot upon the glass, gazed up at the boy, and wiggled his pink nose.

  “I trust everything is under control?” a voice called from the hallway. It was Mrs. Hastings, the school principal. The woman strolled into the classroom accompanied by a child.

  “Oh…no problem here,” the teacher approached her guests. Danny paid the visitors no mind. He stood on his tippy-toes and removed the lid from Pickles’ cage.

  “Can I have everyone’s attention?” Mrs. Hastings called. “I have a surprise…”

  The intrigued boy scooped up the timid mouse and turned to face the principal. Zapped by lightning, his heart leapt from his chest. Danny floated on air – bewitched by this vision of loveliness standing beside the principal. Mesmerized, he drank up even her most subtle features: caramel freckles glittering upon rosy cheeks, ruby earrings bedazzling earlobes, endless auburn hair cascading off her shoulders. Danny drooled, hypnotized by a red-haired spiral formed across her forehead, curved like a sun-ripened strawberry.

  The bashful gi
rl flashed a smile. Dimples pinched her cheeks. Spellbound by her beauty, the infatuated boy lost his grip on Pickles. The confused mouse hit the ground and fumbled for freedom. The girls shrieked. The boys cheered in delight. “Look out, Mrs. Hastings!” someone shouted.

  The rotund woman glanced at the savage beast and panicked. “Get that disgusting rodent back in its cage!”

  “Don’t worry…” Danny jolted back to reality. “Everything’s under control!” Squealing girls stampeded to the back of the room, but a few brave ones joined the boys in the hunt. The trackers sprawled on the floor, swatting and grabbing for the critter. But, the mouse eluded their grubby little hands. The fantastic fur ball zigzagged like a pinball on a collision course – bouncing off everything.

  “Don’t hurt the poor guy!” Danny’s pleas fell upon deaf ears. The children lunged and pounced in a frenzied scramble. The frightened animal bolted; tiny nails clicked upon the high-polished floor.

  The class pet charged the principal with Danny in hot pursuit. The head honcho went aerial, launching herself ten feet in the air. She landed squarely atop the nearest table. The bug-eyed woman stood there frozen, clenching her chest. Her dainty companion showed no fear and allowed the little cheeser to sniff around her feet. Panting, the boy stomped on the scene apologizing profusely. But, not from any person did he beg forgiveness – only from the mouse.

  The boy squatted to rescue the peeper, squeaking a friendly greeting. The rosy newcomer studied her new acquaintance with an insatiable curiosity. Danny arose – mouse in hand – pressed nose to nose with his mystery girl. They gazed into each other’s eyes. Danny was paralyzed.

  “Poor baby, scared to death.” She stroked the rascal’s creamy coat. “There, now…doesn’t that feel nice?”

  “I’ll say. It’s wonderful, Patti…” Danny gushed. “Simply wonderful…”

  “H-h-h-how’d you know my name?”

  “Huh? Oh, well, uhhh, you see…that is, I mean…the thing is…a little bird told me.”

  “You sure do a lot of conversing with the birds…” Mrs. Fishbine sneered.

  The principal descended from her perch. “Do you two know each other?”

  “No!” “Yes!” They shouted together.

  “You’re weird!” Patti declared, eyeing up her counterpart. “…But, that’s ok.”

  The lovesick boy shied away, grinning; his ears burned beet red.

  “Children, please welcome Patti Connor,” the principal announced. “Patti will be joining your class.”

  “Hi, Patti!” the class cheered. Some whistled in approval; others applauded. Mrs. Fishbine flashed her sugary-sweet smile, embarrassed before her superior. She signaled for silence and prayed her students would pay heed.

  The new girl’s smile brightened the room. Enamored, Danny drowned in her brown eyes.

  He squeezed Pickles, and the tiny creature squealed in protest.

  “Careful!” Patti held Danny’s hands in hers. “You’re squishing the poor dear!”

  The boy’s heart melted. “Huh?”

  “Daniel, show this fine lady to her seat in the back…”

  “Hold her gently…like this,” Patti demonstrated. “After all, she’s just a boo-boo baby.”

  “…Daniel? Did you hear me?” The smitten boy failed to acknowledge, entranced by Patti’s mystique. Was he sleepwalking? “Daniel Ormont!!!”

  The jealous bully was ballistic. “Sit down, Mouse!”

  “Mouse?” Patti giggled like a gurgling stream. “Do they really call you Mouse?”

  Danny floated atop cloud nine. “You can call me whatever you wish...”

  “Oh, boy!” Patti rolled her eyes. “This should be quite an interesting year.”

  “Oh, yeaaaaah…” Danny dreamed. “Pa-zoooooo-lute-ly!”

  Morning Recess:

  The class filed out the back door for recess. Per usual, the girls gravitated to the playground to gossip while the boys took to the kickball field. Andy and Danny accompanied the lone oak.

  “That was pretty clever, Mouse,” the bench keeper praised. “…Letting Pickles go.”

  “Gee, I-I-I didn’t mean to. …Say, what’s with all this Mouse stuff?”

  “The class bully, Mark Parks? He’s harsh on everyone.”

  Danny lowered his head. “Tell me about it.”

  “Anyway, he’s dubbed you Mouse…like in the story.”

  “Why?”

  “Face it. Not many mice named Daniel. Besides, it fits!”

  The boy eyed his friend with suspicion. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Let’s just say you really earned your nickname.”

  “I don’t follow…”

  “We never knew Mrs. Hastings was so…athletic!” Andy smiled. “That was super cool!”

  “Yeah, that was a blast, all right. That woman sure can stick a landing.”

  The pair laughed at the indelible image branded on their brains. “Like I always say,” Danny remarked. “I don’t dislike school. It’s just the principal of the thing!”

  “Good one!” The curly haired boy patted his best buddy on the back.

  “So… tell me…” Danny stared at his shoe, afraid to mention the subject. “What about—”

  The shy boy bit his tongue – stricken by the image of two friends fighting over the same girl, like two chipmunks quarreling over the same nut.

  “What? What were you going to say?”

  “What about...oh, you know…”

  “Who?”

  “You know… Patti…”

  “Patti? Ha! You should be telling me!”

  “B-b-but, I don’t know her.”

  “You knew her name…”

  “C’mon, you musta seen her around school, haven’t you?”

  “Nope. Never seen her before.”

  Danny leered at his friend. “You mean, you don’t know anything about her? …Nothing?”

  “Nothing. But, you sure do. What was all that nonsense about?”

  “Andy, when I heard her voice…that is, when I looked in her eyes…I mean, when she held my hand… What I’m trying to say is, well, when I first saw her…”’

  “Go on…”

  “Neah, you’ll say it’s impossible…”

  “No I won’t. You can trust me. Aw, c'mon! You were saying?”

  “I could tell—”

  “Tell what?”

  “Something familiar…” Danny shivered. “I just knew, I TELL YA!”

  “Knew what?”

  “I’ve seen her before! No joke, it’s like, like…I’ve known her – my entire life!”

  His companion huffed, fanning off his words. “That’s impossible.”

  “Of course, it’s impossible! Don’t you think I know that?” Danny grabbed his friend by the shoulders and stared straight into his eyes. “Wanna hear something a hundred times crazier?”

  “You mean…there’s more?”

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  The two boys glanced around. “Like, who am I gonna tell?” To their left, the boys engaged in kickball. To their right, girls clung to the jungle gym, sharing secrets. “I’m not exactly in-crowd material.”

  “That girl? …Patti? One day, I’m going to have had married her.”

  Andy keeled over, screaming in pain. “Listen to yourself, Mouse!” His companion laughed. “You mean, you might marry…”

  “Shhhh! Not so loud!” Danny clamped a hand over his friend’s big mouth. “Listen, will ya?” The boy freed his partner. “It already happened – tomorrow!”

  “Your gourd’s got squashed goulash!” Andy cackled. “What in blazes are you talking about?”

  Danny scowled at his friend, waiting for his squawking to cease. “Sometimes, I get these funny feelings…”

  “Like, you’re gonna yack chunks? Only ya can’t, right?”

  “Actually it’s that thrill at the top of a monster coaster!”

  “You’re not sick, you’re just crazy…crazy in love! You gotta a crus
h!” Andy teased. “Why, you’re hooked, you lucky dog!”

  “No way! It’s not like that. No, really, it’s not. …Will ya listen to me? This is big…HUGE!”

  “Aw, c’mon…”

  “I’m tellin’ ya, I know her…some things just come to me.”

  “You’re making this stuff up!”

  “I swear – it’s true!” Danny slapped his side. “How else could I have known her name?”

  This time, Andy was silent, reviewing the day’s events. The human mop scrawled swirls in the dust. The breeze rustled the oak leaves. Danny searched the playground for Patti. The flock of girls fell all over each other, sharing the gift of gab. Nothing. At last, he glimpsed Patti standing by the playground gate. She was chatting with Cheryl, the only girl to befriend her.

  Andy was the first to break the silence. “…Did your friend really talk to the birds?”

  “Yes…” Danny stared directly at his friend. “Yes, she did.”

  “Then, I believe you.”

  “You do?”

  “Seeing is believing. Besides, you threw everyone for a loop – especially Patti!”

  “Thanks for trusting me.”

  “Heck, what are friends for?” The two boys exchanged a hearty handshake. “Only one question remains…” Andy concluded. “Will Patti agree?”

  CHAPTER XIV

  Play Ball!

  After school, Danny floated home in a fog. Patti was gorgeous – even prettier than he had dreamed. He pictured her radiant face, and his heart skyrocketed.

  “What do these recurring dreams mean?” he asked his conscience.

  His psyche took this under serious consideration. “Nothing,” Me riddled. “…And, everything.”

  “It’s telling me something, but what?” Danny wrestled with the few clues time had provided. “Life wants us to be together…” the boy muttered. “I can feel it deep inside.”

  His conscience countered. “Maybe Andy’s right. It’s just a crush,” Me said. “Happens to everyone…”

  “No way! This is BIG! We got…electricity! I’m sure she felt it, too!”

  “I bet a lot of boys feel the same.”

  “Ya think? …Just how many crushes walk straight out of their dreams?”

  His conscience conceded. “Therefore, it must be serendipity,” Me declared. “Let your sails catch the wind!”

  “Huh?”

  “You must follow this dream wherever it takes you,” Me explained. “Don’t let her go.”

  “I gotta talk to her, first.” Arriving home, Danny fished the key from his pocket and unlocked the side door. “What’s the use? She’ll think I’m a total idiot, a squirming jellyfish.” Danny sulked, shrugging off his backpack. “But, if I lose her, I’ll be a raging jealous fish.” He snitched some cookies from the pantry. “Maybe I should free Pickles again…”