United We Stand, Part II
December 21, 2005 by Douglas · Leave a Comment
A few days go by and no one has mentioned the missing flag. It begins to kill me that my act had gone unnoticed. I didn’t want to be caught, I don’t think, but I wanted it to be notorious. A new flag enigma. The day finally came, when in 6th period Spanish (my class) Senora Eide addressed the class. She wanted everyone to be aware that the flag was missing, and if any one knew anything about it, that they should do what they could to get it returned. She turned her gaze onto me. YIPES! Why was she looking at me!? Where had my plan gone wrong? Her speech was over and we returned to opening our textbooks.
That is the only phrase I can remember from class by the way “Hola classe, abren los lobros a la dosientos y trenta y una. Y repeten!” Translated: “Hello class, open your books to page two-hundred and thirty one, and repeat after me.” That has been bored into the back of my skull. I can roll it off my tongue like magic – and I sound real ethnic when I do. Otherwise I can only ask if Juan is at the Library.
Needless to say, I was not going to be volunteering any information. I was certainly not going to bring it back, not in front of the class. And so more days go by… I nearly forget about the flag completely – until Mr. Potu shows up. He was the substitute Spanish instructor for when the Senora was sick or on teacher holiday. He did not like me, and I did not care for him. He was a very large man, with a very bad temper. He had heard about the missing flag – and he brought the issue up again… to each of his classes. I was so happy that he decided to take on the challenge, and I wondered if he was asked to inquire about it. Maybe a male authority figure would scare the truth out of us hoodlums.
It was the next day that it all fell apart. I sat in my own first period class before the bell, because I did not want to stare at the Potu Substitute. I was chuckling to my neighbor as he asked about the incident. The word was spreading around school, which made me very nervous. Regardless, I chortled that I knew about the flag, and that HE would never see it. Little did I realize the Mrs. Morris was tuned into our conversation. I remember watching her leave the room after my statement, and returning relatively soon with her eyes fixed on me. I think I knew what had just happened, but was trying to play it cool – as much as a 17 year-old thief could.
Towards the end of that same first period class, a messenger came bearing a note/hall pass. The paper was for me – commanding me to appear before Potu. I walked the hall and found myself outside the door. My heart was in my throat – I didn’t want to be in that room alone with him. I walked in with my best what-is-going-on face. It didn’t fool him. He was going to enjoy this.
