The Lucky Penny landed in my palm. I quickly deposited it on top of my other hand before revealing… heads.
"Yeah, sure!" I answered with a smile. "We'll get your memory back if it's the last thing we do!"
Jordan looked a bit apprehensive. "P-pinky promise?" he asked, extending his pinky. I couldn't help but draw a parallel to lunch yesterday where we had pinky promised before he showed me his stamp collection.
"Pinky promise," I replied, locking both pinkies and eyes with him.
He lit up with glee, which was a nice contrast to his generally gloomy demeanor. "Thanks, Maddie. You're the greatest." he hurried off to the front of the line, and I took my place between Kiki and Jacques. After we had exited the building in an orderly fashion and the line dispersed, I sought out Mr. Pony. I found them soon enough having a conversation with Randy.
"Excuse me," I began in my high voice, "But my mama isn't coming to pick me up until later. I'm supposed to go to extended day. What is that?"
Mr. Pony answered my question. "Extended day is just an after school program where a designated teacher supervises any students that need to stay later in another classroom. I think today, you'll be with Mr. Seal, in the art room?"
"Art?" I asked.
"Art," clarified Mr. Pony.
"Art," repeated Randy, before adding, "I can show you to the art room, since I have to be at extended day as well."
"Yeah, that would be good," I mentioned, though I was a bit wary of Randy after how he had ousted Jordan as a stamp collector earlier that day.
"Okay then," he said, "there are a few other people that are also going to extended day, so we have to wait for them first. The rules say that we have to go as a group, to make sure we all get there safely." That sounded like a plan to me. Randy and I went to stand over by the west gate of the playground, near the rock and swingset.
Eventually, am interesting selection of characters joined us, including, but not limited to, William, Jacques, and Jenny.
"Awright," said Randy, after the five of us were the only students remaining on the playground. "It's looks like we're all here, so let's head over to the art room. I'll be the line leader this time." We took off through the west gate, crossing another section of the carpool loop as we headed towards the food building.
His hips sashaying like a dandelion in the breeze, Randy suddenly made a turn to the left and began leading us up a steep hill. At the top of the hill were two buildings – one L-shaped one and another built into the side of the hill with a bridge spanning the gap between the hill's peak and the building's entrance.
"This is the art room," declared Randy, holding open the door to the L-shaped building on the left. We all entered into a well-lit, cluttered room divided in half by a long, L-shaped, paint stained table. There were already several students seated a various spots at the large, bulky, cumbersome table, and most of them were engaged in different types of arts and crafts.
All of a sudden, a velvety, leathery, deep voice sounded behind us. "Good afternoon. I assume you're all here for extended day?" I whirled around, like a culture, to come face to face with a svelte being as white as the crestfallen snow, deep, brown, mournful eyes, a sorrowful expression, and soft, fluffy hair topped off by a rainbow rubber beret. Using my amazing powers of deduction, I was able to guess that this was Mr. Seal.
"Yes, sir," answered Randy for the group. "We're all from Mr. Pony's kindergarten class."
"Ahh," responded Mr. Seal in his dulcimer tones. "The Kindergarten Keepers."
In the distance, a large man's voice could be heard bellowing "Holy crud, he said the thing!"
"Please, feel free to sit anywhere at the table," continued Mr. Seal. "We have an assortment of arts and crafts to work on until you get picked up. There's also some pretzels over there if you want a snack."
"Come on, William," asserted Randy. "Let's sit over here." He moved towards three wooden stools that were painted various colors and tucked beneath the table.
"Okay," said William, following him over. Jenny also joined them, to my surprise. Without a word, Jacques strode over towards the snacks, grabbing one of the paper cups full of pretzels before being seated at a different location and taking out one of his maps to work on. After taking another look 'round the room, I was able to see that shep was also there, by himself I wasn't really sure who to talk to, and in what order, so I procured… you guessed it, the Lucky Penny, and flipped it several times to help me decide the answer to this perplexing moral dilemma.
After a few tense, heart stopping, pulse pounding flips later, I came to a conclusion. I would speak to Randy, William, and Jenny first. I clutched the Lucky Penny in my little fist dramatically and strode over to their location, where all three of them seemed to be absorbed in the same paper.
"No," mansplained Randy, copying down an addition problem on the paper. "If the numbers in this column add up to ten or more, you only put the last digit of the sum on the bottom, and you 'carry' the one on top here," He drew out how the last column of 9 + 12 came out to just 1 instead of 11, and the first 1 went on top of the 1 in 12.
William scratched his shaggy bowlcut while Jenny looked on intensely. "I don't get it," he said. "Why do you have to split up the number like that."
"Because," said Randy, "if you didn't, then your number would end up being way bigger than it's supposed to, and that would be wrong." When he said the 'r' in 'wrong', it sounded like he was about to cough. I, too, became absorbed in what he was saying and stopped to listen.
"But why do you carry the one?" asked Jenny.
"So, when a number is ten or more, it becomes double digits," mansplained Randy, his long eyelashes refracting the light and the Rusakov particles in unusual ways. "In the number 10, the 1 on the left is the tens place, meaning that there's one 10, and the 0 is the ones place, meaning that there's no more ones left over."
I could see the 1s and 0s spiraling around William's head as he performed intense calculations. It still seemed like he was having trouble understanding.
"Here, if it helps, imagine the numbers in groups of ten," offered Randy, returning to the original problem. "So how much would you need to add to nine to make it ten?"
William quickly counted on his fingers. "...one?"
"Right," confirmed Randy. "So minus that one that you need for the nine from the twelve and you get..."
William tried counting on his fingers again, but soon realized that he didn't have enough to get to twelve, so he kicked off one of his Niké New Balance sneakers, adding some of his toes to the mix. "Uh… eleven?"
Randy nodded. "Okay, so now you have ten and eleven. Or, ten, ten, and one left over, since eleven minus one is ten."
Jenny silently nodded her head in understanding. William rolled his eyes back into his head, silently mouthing the words Randy had just uttered. He glanced back to his fingers and toes for a second, and then said, "Okay, yeah. That makes sense."
"Adding in the tens place," continued Randy, "works the same as adding in the ones place. So, what's 1 + 1?"
William hesitated for a second. "Is this a trick question?"
"No, I'll explain in a second," reassured Randy.
"Two."
"Right, so that means 10 + 10 = 20. When the ones places are both zero, you can just add the tens places normally, and then put a zero at the end."
"Okay, so what do I do with the one over here?" he pointed with his pencil to the lone number Randy had extracted from the eleven.
"It's a leftover, like an apple core, or the crust of a sandwich," replied Randy, adding a disdainfully throaty noise to the 'r' in 'crust'. "So you just put it in the ones place."
"Whoa there buddy," said William, a bit irritably. "Don't be calling the crust of a sandwich 'leftovers', or you'll be on thin ice."
In stark contrast to William's ruby red lips, Randy's ice blue, elegantly-eyelashed eyes turned to stare coldly at William. "I'll call it what I very well like, thank you very much."
"Them's fightin' words, pal," replied William, glaring at Randy and puffing up his cheeks like an intimidating hamster. "You wanna 1v1 me?"
Jenny and I shared a quick, exasperated expression. Were these two really about to fight over sandwich crusts? Thankfully she was able to get the two boys back on track. "Hey, so what happens to the one?"
"Like I said a second ago," curdled Randy, "it just goes to the ones place. So 20 + 1 is..."
"21, right," said Jenny.
"Which is the same as 9 + 12. If you just group the numbers into manageable chunks, they get easier to add."
William erased his temple again. "I think I get it now."
"Try solving a few problems on your own, then," inscructed Randy. William and Jenny nodded and got to work.
"Wow, Randy," I remarked, finally getting a chance to speak. My mama says that it's rude to interrupt people when they're not done speaking. "You sure are good at that."
"What?" he asked.
"The way you explained how to add the numbers together," I elaborated. "Even I didn't fully understand it earlier, but now with your explanation it makes perfect sense."
"Well, of course," harrumphed Randy. "Remember, Mr. Pony chose me to be their assistant, so it's only natural that I also act as a tutor to the rest of the class."
Heh heh. He said tooter.
Closing his eyes and turning up his Dr. Seuss-character-like eyelashes up at me, he pompously stated "You could almost say it's my duty to help out those who aren't as smart as I."
Heh heh. He said doody. "I couldn't imagine trying to tutor another student," I said. "I don't know if I understand the material well enough."
"Well, of course not. You can't tutor anyone unless you know more than them to begin with," he scoffed. What he said wasn't wrong, but it hit like a Tim comment – a verbal slap in the face.
"It's not just that, though," I continued. "I don't think I could get anyone to listen to me."
"That's why you need to follow the ru-ules," he stated matter-of-factly. "If everyone did that, everything would run smoothly and work like its supposed to."
"Yeah, I guess that's true," I said, thinking of how the game of kickball went yesterday compared to the disaster that was Tienes el Gato.
"Which is why you need somebody like Mr. Pony, or their assistant, me, in charge. We need to make sure people follow the ru-ules, or else nothing will get done right. Especially for troublemakers like Owen."
Jenny cut in suddenly. "Excuse me," she said, "speaking of 'done right', can you check how we did on these problems?"
"Sure," went Randy, and turned his attention back towards to help his classmates. I figured now would be a bad time to disturb them, so I quietly ducked away.
"Woo-hoo, time to hang out with shep," I thought, in the bellowing voice of a very large man. Could this man be the disgusting giant of my dreams? My laser dreams? I would probably never find out. Anyways, I scooted up towards shep on a paint-splotched, metal stool and saw him trying to draw with some crowns, like a Spanish lion. But every time he touched a crown to his scroll of parchment, it would snap in half like that one stick Kyle had wielded like a katana during recess. He was both amused and dismayed by this.
"How's it going, shep?" I asked.
"Oh, hello there, Maddie," he said, sounding a bit like a dudebro. "i can't believe that not only am i in extended day, but that you're talking to me!"
"Huh? What are you talking about?" I asked. I wasn't sure what I expected him to say, but it sure as heck wasn't that.
"What do you mean," said shep, crossing his arms and looking at me somewhat concernedly, like a doge. "That's my answer to how it's going. But, that's not what matters here. What matters is, how was your day?"
Though I was suspicious of him being overly polite as a means to control the flow of the conversation, I went along with it - "In a word, scrange."
"Uh-huh," he said, nodding. "Don't you mean, 'strange'?"
"It's a verbal tic, come on," I said. "But anyways, remember how Jordan was acting weird at lunch?"
"Yeah," responded shep, putting his hand to his chin wistfully. "i noticed it was very… unusual."
"Well, he lost his memory soon after," I continued. "He can't remember anything about who he is, or where he is, or anyone else."
"Ah," said shep, clutching at his sides. "He sounds like a shell of his former self… just like me." as always, he was just off in his own little world. "Sometimes, i wish i could lose my memory, but then i realize that if i did i would probably just get it back."
Speaking of memory, that reminded me about the question I had originally thought to ask shep. "Hey shep. By the way, earlier you mentioned today that you didn't have anything you liked doing?"
"Of course," he said, returning to normal, or at least as normal as shep could be.
"How did you answer that one question from centers, about one thing that you like? I need some advice."
"Hmm," said shep, putting his hand to his chin wistfully. "Well, if anyone ever asks me what i like, i tell them pizza," he said, doing a pose that looked like he was hugging an abandoned pizza box.
All of a sudden, I felt as if I had a decision to make. Should I give the pizza costume to shep? Luckily, I knew just how to solve it – in one militant, calculated motion, I procured the Lucky Penny, flipped it, caught it, and looked at it. I felt like a silver-haired being who had defeated their opponent swiftly and efficiently with a clean knockout. Heads. Looks like it was shep's lucky day.
I reached into my pocket and procured the vacuum sealed bag of pizza covered fabric. "Here," I said, offering it to shep. "I want to give this to you."
shep's eyes and mouth widened like a surprised doge. "Is that… a pizza costume?"
"Yep," I said, closing my eyes and smiling.
"How amazing… " he said as if he was reading off of a script he had scribbled on a notecard. "To use your Lucky Penny to decide to give something like this pizza costume to someone like me… Maddie… you truly are a, uh, giving… decision tree."
"...Thanks," I replied, a bit awkwardly. "But you just like pizza? You don't have anything you want to do when you grow up besides eat pizza?"
"Not at all..." breathed shep, putting his hands up disarmingly. "I try not to worry about that stuff too much, man."
"Not at all?" I repeated. "You don't have any kind of plan?"
"Nope," he responded serenely. "i don't really see the point in making plans. Things are just going to change anyways, but in the end they always work themselves out on their own."
"Yeah..." I replied, thought I wasn't sure I totally understood. How was shep so sure that things would be just fine? But either way, I had gotten the answer I had wanted out of him – from now on, if someone asked me what I liked during centers, I would answer oyster crackers. I wonder if that meant I was going to become and oyster cracker when I grew up.
Suddenly, shep was right up to my ear. "Listen, Maddie, i have something to ask you." a chill shot down my spine.
"W...what is it?" I squeaked.
"Don't tell anyone that i said this, but i think there's more to this school than meets the eye. Something is going on here, but i'm not sure what."
I gulped, a chill sweat running down my body. What was this weirdo talking about?
"Does the name 'Tor' mean anything to you?" as soon as shep uttered that word, I felt that same strange pulse in my body that had happened during show and tell. shep shuddered like the shackles of a shivering sheep.
"No," I responded, "but it does give me that weird sensation. Do you think it has anything to do with whatever you think is going on?"
"That's my current theory," he said, before stepping back, closing his eyes, curving his eyebrows, and putting up his hands disarmingly. "But you shouldn't take it seriously. It's just a theory."
I frowned, thinking. I still wasn't sure what to think about shep, but if he was right and there was something weird going on, that might give some hint as to why Jordan had lost his memory. I figured I would ask Jordan about 'Tor' tomorrow.
"Anyways," ended shep. "i've wasted enough of your time with my idle chit-chat. Please, your time in extended day would be much better spent with someone else." I wasn't sure if this was just a polite way of telling me to go away or not, but I still took him up on his offer.
"Alright, thanks shep. You've definitely given me a lot to think about," I said in my most professional voice, before taking off smartly. Only one person left to talk to – Jacques. Or as Owen would call him, Jacquesypoo.
Though he was mostly preoccupied with expanding upon his map of the campus, his arsenal of drawing materials greatly bolstered by the art room's supplies, Jacques still noticed my approach.
"Good day, Maddie," he said brusquely, not taking his unblinking eyes off the paper.
"Good day," I repeated back to him. "How goes progress on the map?"
"Fine," he responded. "I'm basically done with the general layout, but now I just need to know what lies within each building."
My brain short-circuited. Snap, I thought. What was I originally planning to ask Jacques? I hesitated trying to think of some stand-in topic to continue the conversation in a non-awkward way. Jacques blinked, almost as if he was undergoing a similar sensation. "Uh," I began awkwardly.
All off a sudden, two mysterious beings entered the art room. They both had dark hair, dark suits, and dark sunglasses, making them look extra mysterious.
"H'wat's th'issue this time, pal?" asked one, holding what appeared to be some sort of device that looked a bit like a w-w-wemote contwol. "You wascally wat!" scweamed the other one. I took a look at my hand. "We're heeyur tew feeyul out the prahm directive! Apparently, there was some shed-juuling issue with yew-nit K-05 ovur theyur."
"O'er where, bro?"
"Haw haw. Yew said 'overwhere'."
"Don't play games with me, Leonaruto."
In the distance, multiple sounds of thick slabs of meat could be heard slapping against plastic surfaces. The ridiculous laughter of a large man could be heard until it shouted in shocked disbelief "His name…? Is LEONARUTO? Like Leonaruto DaVinci?"
"Yes, Wrathael," replied the first one. The large man's silence was deafening.
"So w'd'ya s'pose w'need t'do?" asked 'Leonaruto'.
"Wayul, for some reezin, the advancement see-yig-knowle didn't go threw, so we gawta dew it owerselves."
"m'kay, boss," 'Leonaruto' pushed a few buttons on his remote control. "There, that sh'do it."
"Pear-fecta mundo, pardner. Let's blow this pawpsicole stayund." responded 'Wrathael' before accidentally bumping one of the stools with his hip while turning to leave and knocking it over. "Dag nabbit," he said before accidentally bumping one of the stools with his hip while turning to leave and knocking it over. "Dag nabbit," he said before putting it back upright. After that, he and 'Leonaruto' left the art room.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw one of the stools move on its own. I turned toward it, momentarily distracted from Jacques.
"Huh?" I said, somewhat disoriented. "Did you see that, Jacques?"
"See what," asked Jacques.
"That stool," I replied, pointing to the one that I thought I had seen move. "It just moved on its own."
"I didn't see," stated Jacques, before looking downwards and slightly to the right, a small, embarrassed bead of squeat on his forehead. "Though my eyes may be unblinking, they are not all-seeing. I wasn't looking that way at the time."
I crossed my arms and frowned. "Maybe Kristy is right, this school is haunted."
Mr. Seal slobbered up to us, his colorful rubber beret bouncing in the wind. With the voice of an angel, he spoke to me. "You are Maddie, right?"
I whirled to face him. "Yes, that's me," I confirmed, nodding.
"Your mama is here to pick you up."
"Ah, okay," I said. Looks like my time at extended day had come to an end. Still full of beans, I said goodbye to Jacques, stuck out my arms like an airplane, and ran full tilt out of the art room. Though it had taken a bit longer than usual, the third day of school… was over.