Check Out the Library Weenies

by David Lubar

  She shook her head. “I guess there’s no harm. Good luck with your paper.”

  “Thanks.” I headed home and got to work.

  It took a little longer than I’d planned to turn my interview notes into an actual essay. Mom walked by my room at least once every five minutes, giving me those I told you so stares and sighing heavily enough to blow out all the candles on my grandfather’s birthday cake. By the time I had the whole thing written, and added the photo from my phone, it was past my bedtime.

  I sent my paper to the printer. I figured Mom was going to sigh even harder when I went downstairs to get it. But I was the one who ended up sighing. And maybe panicking, just a little. There was no essay in the output tray. Instead, there was a flashing light on the printer’s control panel.

  “Out of ink,” I said as I read the error message. “No!” I slid open the desk drawer. It had at least ten or fifteen ink cartridges jammed inside. A quick search showed they were all empty.

  I did my owl impression again as I looked around for help. Who? Drake was my best bet. I found him in the basement, playing River Raid on one of his antique game systems and eating popcorn.

  “Can you help me print something?” I asked.

  He sighed. But he followed me up to the living room and tapped the flashing light on the printer. “It can’t print. It’s out of ink.”

  “I know that,” I said. “I figured you can do something. It can’t be out of all the ink.”

  “You’re right. Just one cartridge is dry. But it’s impossible to print anything on this model printer when any of the colors runs out,” he said.

  “Then I’m out of luck,” I said.

  “No. You’re in luck, because you have a brother who specializes in doing the impossible on a daily basis. Step aside, pathetic mortal.”

  I stepped aside. Drake opened the printer, fiddled with something, closed the printer, smirked, and said, “Try it now. There won’t be any red, but it will still probably look okay.”

  It worked. I could hear the printer come alive, doing all the secret little things it had to do to make an image on paper. Drake returned to his dungeon stronghold. And Mrs. Muscatello emerged from the slot at the bottom of the printer, looking very blue and green. Because of that, and the fact that I was looking at the photo upside down, it took me a second to realize I was seeing something really strange.

  I picked up the page and turned it around. Her body looked normal. But her head was so wrong, I couldn’t accept what I was seeing. It just wasn’t possible. I stared, trying to make the illusion go away. I held the photo at various angles. It remained what it was: A portrait of a fly. Mrs. Muscatello had the head of a fly! An enormous fly, with those bulging eyes and all that spikey fly hair whose name I can never remember, but I think it starts with an S or a C.

  The image flickered. No. It was my hand that was shaking. I checked the photo on my phone. It was fine. I didn’t know what to do. Tell my parents? What for? What would they do? Was there any reason to do anything? Maybe it was better if Mrs. Muscatello never knew I’d discovered her secret.

  I decided I’d figure out what to do in the morning. But I couldn’t sleep. I had to know more. After I heard my parents go to bed, I got up, threw on clothes, grabbed the photo, and slipped out the back door.

  Mrs. Muscatello’s house was dark. I didn’t care. I knocked. And then, as I waited, and heard her footsteps approaching from inside, I forced myself not to run.

  The door opened. “I suppose you want to talk,” she said.

  I nodded.

  “Come in?”

  I shook my head. There was no way I was stepping into that house. We took our seats on the porch.

  “I guess you have more questions,” she said.

  I managed to nod and make a sound that somewhat resembled “Yes.”

  “I’m also guessing your printer ran out of a color,” she said. “The protective coloration relies on the full visible spectrum.”

  “Red,” I said. I swallowed, and then pushed out two more words. “Protective coloration?”

  It was her turn to nod.

  “What are you?”

  “A person,” she said.

  The words escaped before I had a chance to think about them. “No, you aren’t.”

  “That’s not your decision,” she said.

  I kept my mouth shut and thought about that. Person had always seemed like an easy slot to fill. I was a person. So were my parents. Even Drake qualified, so the bar wasn’t set very high. A rabbit wasn’t a person. That was obvious. Neither was a horse. But we’d learned in school about how awful things could get when one group of people decided the members of another group weren’t really people.

  “You’re right,” I said. “It’s not my decision.”

  “Thank you.” She patted my leg.

  I flinched, which made me feel guilty. “Sorry.”

  “I understand,” she said. “Your reaction is as natural as my camouflage.”

  “I can get over it,” I said.

  “That’s part of what makes us human,” she said. “We can be better than we’re designed to be. We can transcend our programming.”

  After another silence, she asked me, “Is my secret safe with you.”

  “Yeah.” I thought about the way people react to insects. Some of us flinch. Some of us kill them on sight. A few of us study them in fascination, seeing beauty in their form. I handed her the picture. “Your secret’s safe. I’ll print another picture in the library, before class.”

  She thanked me again, and reached out to pat my leg. But she hesitated.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  This time, I didn’t flinch.

  WATCH YOUR GRAMMAR

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, June of this year:

  Edward Upton, head of the Schranski Middle School English Department has submitted a proposal for the district to purchase Kenyosa Corporation’s Grammar Watches for the entire student population. In response to questioning, he explained: “Grammar Watches contain intelligent software that functions like a spell checker, but also uses speech recognition. If the watch detects a grammatical error, it issues a gentle reminder in the form of a low-voltage electrical shock. It’s really just a small tingle. Studies show it improves student grammar by as much as seventy-three percent.”

  The board voted unanimously to create a committee to investigate the feasibility of purchasing Grammar Watches. Mr. Upton offered to write a grant application to obtain state and federal aid to help fund the project. The board approved this offer.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, July of this year:

  The Grammar Watch committee reported that their research indicated the product would have a major positive impact on both student behavior and test results. Mr. Upton disclosed that he had received grants to cover eighty-five percent of the cost of acquiring a Grammar Watch for each student. The board voted unanimously to approve the project and provide funds for the remaining fifteen percent of the cost.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, August of this year:

  The Grammar Watch committee reported that Grammar Watches have been obtained and will be distributed to each student on the first day of school, September 4th.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, September of this year:

  The Grammar Watch committee reported that the Grammar Watch distribution has been achieved.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, October of this year:

  Schranski Middle School principal Ethel Membaum advised the board that several parents were concerned when they discovered the Grammar Watches were not removable. Schranski Middle School English Department head Edward Upton offered to write a memo for distribution to all middle school parents, explaining the
need for this feature.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, November of this year:

  Department heads for English, History, and Science reported that the students seemed unusually quiet this year.

  Schranski Middle School debate team coach Salvador Biberoni reported to the board that the debate team has been disbanded, due to a lack of participation.

  Mr. Lazlo Cuthbert, a representative of Kenyosa Corporation, provided the board with a presentation on available software upgrades for Grammar Watches. The board appointed a committee to investigate the offerings.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, December of this year:

  A study on noise in the workplace revealed that the Schranski Middle School cafeteria was the quietest school cafeteria in the state.

  Schranski Middle School announced a record low in teacher sick days.

  The Upgrade Committee presented their findings and recommended a purchase of Grammar Watch foreign-language modules for all languages taught at Schranski Middle School. The board approved the purchase.

  Students at Schranski Middle School submitted paperwork requesting the formation of a Mime club. No students attended the meeting to speak about this request.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, January of this year:

  Schranski Middle School music teacher, Dr. Lois Galante, reported to the board that the winter musical, My Fair Lady, about a professor who tries to teach a Cockney maid to speak proper English, was cancelled after nobody auditioned for the lead female role of Eliza Doolittle.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, February of this year:

  Schranski Middle School Spanish teacher, Mr. Anthony Vega, reported that the Spanish Club, for which he is the advisor, has been disbanded, due to lack of attendance. French, Italian, and German club advisors gave similar reports.

  Chess Club advisor, Ms. Dianna Ghupta, requested funds to purchase additional chess sets to meet the club’s swelling membership.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, March of this year:

  Schranski Middle School principal Ethel Membaum presented the results of the latest teacher-observation period. All monitors reported that they had never seen such well-behaved students. In virtually every classroom, not a single student spoke out of turn or interrupted the teacher. The only negative finding was a drastic decline in class participation.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, April of this year:

  Schranski Middle School band director, Mr. Elbert Simmons, reported that the spring musical, Porgy and Bess, was cancelled when students refused to sing “It Ain’t Necessarily So.”

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, May of this year:

  County Commissioner Ms. Wendy Probald provided the board with preliminary census data concerning new residents. Student population rose a typical five percent at all schools and in all grade levels, except for Schranski Middle School, where the student population in all grades combined declined by an unprecedented fourteen percent. Ms. Probald said the county was unable to explain the drop, and they believed it was just a statistical anomaly.

  * * *

  From the Minutes of the Schranski School District Monthly Meeting, June of this year:

  Due to the overwhelming success of the Grammar Watch trial run, Coach Gus Miklaski, head of the Schranski Middle School Physical Education Department, has submitted a proposal for the district to purchase Kenyosa Corporation’s Posture Belts.

  Dr. Leonard Franklin, head of Schranski Middle School’s Guidance Department, has submitted a proposal for the district to purchase Kenyosa Corporation’s Positive Thinking Helmets.

  Ms. Stella Munroe, head of Schranski Middle School’s Reading Department, has submitted a proposal for the district to purchase Kenyosa Corporation’s Anti-skimming Reading Glasses.

  The board has appointed committees to investigate these suggestions.

  AT STAKE

  As the flames lick at my toes, all I can think about is how easily this could have been avoided. If only I hadn’t opened my mouth. If only I hadn’t spoken those two words that started me down the path to this horrible ending. And now, there’s no one to hear me speak.

  I’d been sitting in geography class, getting more and more annoyed as Mr. Ledona explained our next assignment. “I can’t believe this,” I whispered to Carl. “Is he crazy?”

  Carl shook his head. “This is wrong. He’s acting like we’re college students or something. Nobody can write a twenty-five-page report. He’s got to be out of his mind.”

  In the front of the room, Mr. Ledona kept on talking, telling us all the ugly details of our assignment. “I’ll expect each of you to use at least ten different sources. Legitimate sources. Not some unreliable internet site.”

  “How about ten identical sources?” I whispered to Carl. “I can manage that.”

  Carl frowned as he tried to digest this. “But they’d all be the same,” he said. He doesn’t always get what I mean right away. If ever.

  “That was a joke,” I said.

  “Oh.” His frown deepened, but then he nodded. “I get it.”

  “I’ll also require a properly formatted bibliography, of course,” Mr. Ledona said. “You’ll follow the guidelines described in the Chicago Manual of Style.”

  The murmuring increased. Mr. Ledona didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he enjoyed piling us up with impossible tasks.

  “I’m not doing it,” I told Carl.

  “You’ll flunk,” Carl said.

  “I don’t care.” I glared at the teacher

  “One more thing,” Mr. Ledona said. “I expect each report to have footnotes and an index.”

  Something inside me just snapped. “Drop dead,” I muttered. But it came out louder than a mutter. It came out loud enough for the back half of the room to hear me.

  Half the heads in the classroom turned toward me.

  At exactly the same time, the rest of the heads were staring at the front of the room, where Mr. Ledona let out a gasp as he slumped to the ground.

  A couple kids raced up to him. I sat there, gripping my desk.

  “He’s dead,” someone said.

  “No way.” I stood up and tried to look past the growing crowd for signs of life in the crumpled body on the floor.

  Everything happened real quickly after that. Paramedics came. They raced out with Mr. Ledona on a gurney. But by then, even from far away, he didn’t look like a living person.

  We were left standing in the aisles or sitting at our desks, a class without a teacher.

  “You killed him,” someone said.

  I looked toward my accuser. It was Rochelle Bebstock, that self-righteous mean girl who always found fault in others.

  “Murderer,” Danny Hamilton said. He had a crush on Rochelle, and would do anything to impress her.

  Everyone was staring at me. I was used to that. They stared at me all the time, just because I didn’t play their stupid games, or wear the clothes they wore, or get the latest trendy haircut. But this was different. I shifted my eyes from face to face.

  There was no sign of their usual sneers of superiority. They all looked scared and angry. That’s a bad combination.

  “Boo!” I shouted.

  They jumped back. I started laughing. I suspect that might have been a mistake.

  “Freak.” Dexter Thorp walked up to me and raised a fist. I guess I should have been careful around him, because he’s big, mean, and stupid—another bad combination. But I wasn’t afraid. I’d been beaten up before. Besides, right now, I felt invulnerable.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Hit me. See what happens.” I stared right at him. I wasn’t
scared. But Dexter was. I could tell.

  Dexter backed away from me. “It wouldn’t be worth the suspension.”

  The bell rang and we spread out to other classrooms throughout the school. The rumor must have spread, too. As the day wore on, more and more whispers and stares followed me through the halls.

  I felt sort of bad for Mr. Ledona. He wasn’t any worse than my other teachers, except for that term paper thing, which I guess wasn’t a problem anymore. But I didn’t feel guilty. That would have been ridiculous. Because it wasn’t my fault. He probably had clogged arteries or something. I’d bet he ate the wrong stuff and never bothered to get any exercise. I wasn’t going to feel guilty over a stupid coincidence.

  I had to walk past Dexter and his buddies on the way out of school. Normally I would have ignored them, or waited until they left, but this time I stared at them, smiling the whole time, like I knew a dark and dangerous secret. Dexter stared back. But I noticed a couple of the others wouldn’t look at me. Cool. School was going to be a lot more fun for the rest of the year.

  I turned on my music and headed home. After dinner I went outside, to eliminate the impossible thought that had been nagging at my mind. There’s a maple tree near the edge of the backyard. As I expected, I saw a squirrel in one of the branches.

  “Drop dead,” I said, staring straight at it.

  It stared back, then ran off, not the least bit dead. Another squirrel ran past me on the ground. I tried to remember how my voice had sounded that morning. And how I had felt. And, even more so, how much I wanted the words to come true.

  “Drop dead.”

  It dropped.

  I was surprised. But not totally. I’d always suspected I was special. That’s why I didn’t fit in. That’s why all the stupid stuff the others cared about never interested me. I knelt by the body of the squirrel. “Live.” No response. I tried a couple other ways to reverse what I’d done. No luck. Hate came much more easily to me than love. It looked like this was a one-way trick. That’s okay. I wasn’t planning to kill anyone I’d want to revive.