Lila Sawyer walked back into Mr. Simmon's classroom, the braids swaying as she walked, the crayon jar tucked tightly against her chest. She hummed a few notes with joy before opening the door by freeing one hand momentarily. Then, to relish her moment of triumph, Lila walked back into the school room and held the jar aloft.

"Here, everyone! I got the supplies we need!" Lila declared as she batted her eyelashes once in anticipation of praise. It was not long in coming.

"Boy, howdy! You got the mother lode!" Sid shouted before digging into the can. He pulled out three black crayons, also a green and blue, then went back to scribbling at his desk, his tongue stuck out of his mouth at its corner.

"You'all got a yellow? For the sun?" Stinky Peterson asked politely. Lila handed him a crayon and he mildly carried it away on his palm as he stared down at the beloved color in reverence.

"Do you have a red?" Arnold asked, stepping up to ask next. "And a blue."

"Here you are!" Lila stated with glee. Gerald was the next to request a crayon, followed by others until everyone in the class had accepted crayons from the can.

It was quiet and peaceful in the classroom. Everyone enjoyed their coloring until it was time to place the pages they had worked on in a pile of Mr. Simmon's desk. Then, Gerald noticed the old coffee can which the crayons had been in as he went to return his crayons. He held it up with a gasp of horror.

"Where all did you get this?!" Gerald declared. "Now I am the Keeper of Legends! And as the Keeper of Legends of P.S. 118 I note... that this can is for Razzle-Frazzle Beans, a coffee roasting company defunct nearly fifty years and the exclusive brand that an ill-fated teacher of P.S.118! This might... well may be... the Cursed Can of Mr. Pinkman!"

"Whatever are you talking about Gerald?" Lila asked, a nervous, bashful flutter of her lashes as she turned her head and knees slightly in the other direction as if moved to run away. There was a guilt residing there, for she had been warned and had told no one. Yet.

"I'll tell you what it's all about!" spoke Gerald, setting the can up on Mr. Simmon's pedestal for all to see it better. He lifted his hands up toward the old, battered coffee can to emphasize it.

"Long ago... back into the primeval days without cellphones, there presided a teacher of English at P.S 118- Mr. Pinkman. He was especially known for his love for Razzle-Frazzle coffee, which drunk at five cups a day, and his love of sweets. To hide his candies at school from the students, other teachers, and even the former principal himself, he hatched a plan. To hide a satchel of jawbreakers among the grounds of his favorite coffee. He imagined, as one with trust might hope, that none would ever despoil the sanctimony of his favorite coffee brand. But one day, when Mr. Pinkman entered the Teacher's Break Room, it was to discover to his horror that someone had taken and eaten his entire bag of candy- which may or may not have been Mr. Wartz. Not only that, they left his coffee grounds dumped all over the floor! Such savagery!" Gerald held his hands up high as he shook his head back and forth sorrowfully. "And thus, grieved by such betrayal, Mr. Pinkman hurled upon the school of P.S. 118 his curse! Only no one was to realize its effects until three years later, when Mr. Pinkman died, and the coffee can that had been plundered began to spread his curse with anyone in his old classroom. First it was people's crayons breaking. Then it was the pink eraser tops of pencils inadvertently popping off so that there was no eraser stub left! Then people started tripping over their shoelaces and it got worse! So those of his old classroom, directly across the hall from us, determined never to use crayons from that can again! These crayons must be over fifteen years old!" Gerald said lobbing stub of crayon back into the can. "We've gotta take it back, man! It can't stay here!"

"Yeah! The sooner, the better," agreed Sid, his sweaty palmed clutched together.

"Um, very well. I'll do as you say," Lila spoke with an apologetic nod. She walked back across the hall.

"I'm here to return the crayons!" she sang out. But she received a stoic glare.

"No, keep them!" the teacher from across the hall said, glancing up from her book.

"Yes, keep them! Keep them!" chorused the class with cheers and a few leers. Lila stood awkwardly in the hall. What would she do?

"Um, Arnold? Gerald? I don't believe they will take them back. I'm sorry," she said her head curled down slightly with regret and a touch of shame and yet, it was a head held up still by an invisible string of pride much stronger than her apology.

"Well, what do we do, Gerald?" Arnold asked. "It IS only just an old coffee can. There can't be any REAL curse on it."

"Are you crazy Arnold?!" Sid flustered. "You heard the story Gerald told about Mr. Pinkman! It's a cursed coffee can!"

"Cursed, huh?" Helga sniffed. "What kind of curses is it supposed to fling anyway?"

"Oooh, I don't want to find out!" Phoebe flustered, reflecting back, perhaps on the poet statue she had been scared of.

"Let's just put the crayon can in this cupboard here and figure out what to do with it later, you guys!" Arnold advised them, strongly. "Then you'll all see there's nothing to worry about! There is no curse!"

"Yeah? We'll see alright," Sid flustered as Arnold tucked the old coffee can full of crayons into a cupboard in the back of the classroom, in hope that all would be well.

To be continued.