Dream
I put my ladder against a tre and climb to the top of the half a tree. The top half is missing and is a weed and vine choked mess, the vines possibly having pulled the top of the tree off, almost a nest. I pull myself into the nest and take a nap. I wake up in my nest as it rocks slightly. As I wake up I notice a diamond shape moving slowly across the sky, blue and red lights, alien design. There are clouds following the machine, and in them more moving shapes of various sizes and combinations, A circle with a triangle on top, a flashing rhombus, this has to be the invasion the internet was warning us about. I try to get down but my nest lists dangerously and the ladder is tight against the trunk. I don't want to risk a fall just when the world is getting interesting again.
I can peek into the third floor window of the building next to the tree and I am surprised to be staring into my old school classroom. Someone's been doing some work in there. The island in the middle has been removed, there are neatly labelled chemicals on shelves, it looks like a set from a "how to teach" television documentary. I knock at the window. A grinning idiot at the third floor window. The young blonde teacher sees me and immediately brightens. She opens the window and I hoist myself over the window frame, tuck and half somersault into the room. We chat excitedly about the changes she has made to the room and I am happy to see that one of the scared kids I tried to navigate through the madhouse has mastered the delicate juggling act that is teaching in the inner city.
I'm late! I run downstairs to my room and it is a shambles, candy dinosaurs all over the floor along with other debris. The cat was away. I bellow at the students about the mess, how did they make such a big mess in the few minutes the school was open. "Jonathan was in here when we got here," they say. Jonathan.
One name. Pure chaos. A natural born leader, a visionary, a creator of any reality he imagines. And he's got a great imagination and is filled with rage and confusion. They will be naming Tsunamis after this kid. He knows he runs the school and what he can get away with and how impossible it will be to get any second hand allegations to stick. He is the boogeyman in this school and seems to be everywhere at once and never where he is supposed to be. They did a reality show about super Nannies and he went through three of them before they quit production. Even with video evidence he was able to squirm out of it and reassign blame and show probable cause. As you expect he practically raises himself like so many of them do in this modern world of ours. A child raised without fear, who has never lost. A child who exploits all the weaknesses he sees in a system, who exploits the maximum amount of fun and chaos from every situation. His parents are lawyers and he is their little angel. They come to every parent teacher conference and defend their child to the end.
I try to get the place cleaned up a little by bellowing to no effect. I go to the trump card and add some profanity, waiting to see them scurry. No real positive action comes from it and I am out of mass manipulation techniques. The kids know that Jonathan is Bulletproof and may be learning that they can invoke his name foe behavioral Carte Blanche. I have not signed in. I run to the office for my roll sheet and to sign in and I realize I am dressed like a cloen. Shiny black sweats, a grey hoodie over a florescent orange rugby tee shirt. For some reason I am wearing one of those head gators, also orange, and I pull my hood up to hide this. The gym teacher is also late and also wearing sweats. Camoflage! the gym teacher is wearing a dark green satiny sweat suit combo that has yellow letter on the back that say black crown. The new beer from budweiser. I may get away with my outfit.
The Principal and three others are sitting at the table where the sign in sheet normally is. They say it's to late, it's been sent in. I guess the blonde has related details of our morning and they are all smiling and laughing at me, "same old Mr. Bake"