As the students finished cramming into the auditorium, they took their places among the many rows of cushioned, dark green seats that filled the room. The auditorium could hold several hundred people, and with the entire student body present, it was at full capacity.
By the time Maria and Sara found a place to sit, most of the seats were already taken. They ended up near the center of the auditorium, sitting next to one another. The rest of the students finished finding places to sit, piling into the remaining spaces, clambering over one another to reach unoccupied seats.
The teachers had gathered at the front of the auditorium, just before the stage. They stood about in a series of huddles, leaning forward and speaking to one another in low voices, possibly trying to figure out what the purpose of the assembly was. On that particular subject, it seemed the teachers and students shared a similar curiosity.
“What do you suppose this is all about?” Maria asked her sister.
“I have no idea,” Sara said, as she watched her classmates, most of whom were busy chatting and goofing around. “As far as I can tell, it’s a surprise, even to the teachers.”
“Maybe it will be something exciting,” Maria said optimistically, though she doubted it would be anything nearly as interesting as the journey to Smuttynose Island that she was missing out on.
The auditorium was a huge room (the biggest in the entire school), shaped like a trapezoid. It had stadium-style seating, with each row being slightly higher than the previous one, ensuring an excellent view of the stage for everybody.
The ceiling was very high, and it had large, rectangular panels attached to it, which had been placed for the purpose of enhancing the acoustics of the room. There was also a large amount of gear and spotlights mounted to the ceiling. These were used for visual and audio effects of the presentations that were held for various occasions throughout the school year.
The stage at the front of the room ran the entire width of the auditorium. It was built from a robust cherry hardwood, gleaming with a high shine. Dark green curtains, matching the upholstery of the seats, hung from the ceiling, concealing most of the stage.
The curtains were currently closed, drawn together at the center. A slight gap between the green fabric revealed a glimpse of the deeper stage that lay beyond, which was dark and layered with shadows.
The assembly had not yet begun, and the chatter of the students continued, creating a buzz of countless conversations that filled the air. As the school administrator, Principal Funkmeyer, entered the auditorium, the level of noise increased, the children anticipating what he might say. The principal was making his way toward the front of the auditorium, and the students realized the reason for their having been summoned would momentarily be revealed.
Principal Funkmeyer was a man who constantly had a slightly disheveled appearance, and the air of a person who was overwhelmed with everything that was on his plate. Today was no exception, and he seemed to be his typical, frazzled, vaguely distracted self.
His tie was always loose around his neck, with the button for his collar unsnapped to give him a little breathing room. His shirt was only half tucked in the back, and one shoelace of his dress shoes had begun to come undone, trailing along the floor. Pens, pencils, and a calculator protruded from the breast pocket of his shirt in a haphazard manner.
He favored a conservative haircut with a traditional part, combed to one side. However, he couldn’t ever seem to get all the hair to obey his brush, and wayward tufts propped forth at the temples and crown of his head. Horn-rimmed eyeglasses were perched on his nose, ever so slightly askew from an accidental bending that was never quite corrected to original specifications.
He was perpetually beset with a vague expression of mild confusion upon his face, as if he could not fathom why on earth he had ever thought it would be a good career choice to be placed in charge of hundreds of energetic children, who were roughly as uncontrollable and unpredictable as an army of wild spider-monkeys.
This was, of course, a fair question that most adults could sympathize with.
Even in the school yearbooks, the pictures of him generally looked as though he had been caught by surprise, unaware of the photographer’s presence or the fact that he was supposed to be posing for a portrait. Consequently, it was a long-standing tradition for students to write “Huh?” beneath his picture. It seemed to be the perfect caption to fit his expression.
Nonetheless, Principal Funkmeyer was not one to give up, and his mildly flustered condition could not be mistaken for a lack of caring. He wholeheartedly embraced his duties as the school’s primary administrator, and he actually did enjoy his job. It was just a bit overwhelming for him, and the drain it had caused over the years was visible in subtle ways, such as the gray hairs at his temples and the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes.
As he approached the front of the auditorium, he clutched a fistful of papers and index cards in one hand, upon which were scribbled various notes. When he reached the stage, he paused before it as the gathered teachers turned to him. He spoke with them briefly in a low voice, resulting in various nods and grunts of agreement from his staff.
The teachers dispersed, with some of them going to stand to one side, near the stage, and others going up the aisles of the auditorium in order to keep an eye on the students. There was a wooden podium set on the floor before the stage, and Principal Funkmeyer stepped behind it, setting his papers down.
A microphone was mounted to the podium, and he took a moment to adjust it, tilting it toward his mouth. Clearing his throat, he addressed the student body. “Quiet down, please, children. If I may have your attention, we have some very important matters to discuss. Your cooperation, which I’m sure you will be eager to provide, will be greatly appreciated.”
Chapter Three
Somber Subjects
The Green Beans, Volume 5: The Phantom of the Auditorium Page 2
