April 1983—Los Angeles, California
By the third attempt, Albert Eberling and Holden Ridley finally found Christine Dove High School. It was no wonder they could not find it. The school was located on a one-way street in downtown Los Angeles. It was a good thing we asked that transvestite for directions, thought Albert, as he and Holden got off their vehicle.
"Finally," said Albert, "You git. I can't believe you got a vehicle without air conditioning. I feel so hacky right now."
"No worries," said Holden, "We're likely to still make a good impression. Good god, wipe your brow, mate. Use this."
Holden passes Albert his handkerchief.
"So, this is where the psychics said she'd be?" asked Albert, as he wipes his brow.
"Indeed," said Albert, "All right, we're looking for a girl named Ananda Kanok."
"Kanok?" asked Albert, "What's her race?"
"Thai, I believe," said Holden, "The psychics gave no other details—other than Ananda having musical gifts."
"They said that?" asked Albert.
"More like…'waves of classical charms are weaved from her fingertips,'" said Holden.
"Very cryptic. We could be looking for a prostitute, for all we know," said Albert.
"Charming, Albert," said Holden, "Are we sticking to the plan?"
"Yes. We're British filmmakers documenting the U.S. school experience," said Albert.
"Perfect," said Holden, "Don't mess everything up, all right mate."
"Promise," said Albert, as he hands back the handkerchief.
"May I help you?" asked a brunette woman.
"Yes, actually," said Holden, "We're looking for the principal's office."
"Yes, her office is down the hall, three doors to the right."
"Thank you," said Holden. As they walked towards the principal's office, Holden reminded Albert about the cover story.
Upon meeting Principal Stokes, and seeing Albert's annoyed expressions, Holden knew he would have to take charge.
"My colleague and I, Principal Stokes, are doing a documentary on American teenagers," said Holden.
"Oh really, is there a particular focus you both have?"
"Well, we were thinking music. We've heard about your prestigious music program."
"Yes, our teachers and students work very hard to be the best," said Principal Stokes.
"We heard the students outside talk about a particular student—Ananda Kanok. I overheard them saying she plays music."
"Yes, Ananda is quite a prodigy," said Principal Stokes, "We've never had a student who can expertly play woodwind, percussion and brass instruments. She hears a piece once, and she can play it in seconds."
"Do you think we could interview her for the film?" asked Holden.
"Normally, I would say yes. But Ananda just lost her grandmother. She used to live in what they call 'Thai Town,' a local area. Now, she's living in foster care. Also, we've been having some disciplinary problems with her."
"I'm sorry about Ananda's loss. With all due respect, Principal Stokes, it would be nice to do a segment on her—even if it's a short one."
"I'll see what I can do, but I can't make any guarantees," said Principal Stokes, "Ananda has her own mind, you know."
"Would it be possible then, to meet Ananda and the other band members?" asked Holden.
"Of course," said Principal Stokes, "if you return at 3:00pm, which is about an hour, the band will start rehearsing."
"Wonderful," said Holden, "so what instrument is Ananda currently playing?"
"The violin. In fact, she's our only violinist right now," said Principal Holden.
"We look forward to meeting her, don't we Albert?"
Albert nodded.
"Fantastic, gentlemen. Oh, just to let you both know. Ananda is not like other girls."
"That's what we figure," said Holden.
"There must be some mistake," said Albert, tightening his suit jacket. The school's air conditioning was freezing, if not hellish.
"The principal said she's the only student that plays the violin," said Holden.
"I just can't…Are you sure there isn't a mistake?" asked Albert. His face was flushed and flustered.
"There's the other evidence."
"Other evidence?" asked Albert.
"Yes. The broken mirrors and tables…the student she threw," said Holden.
"What's so unusual about that? Don't they do that when they're upset?" barked Albert.
"The boy is a football player—all 350 pounds and 6'2" of him. It's impossible for a young girl her size to do that," said Holden, "There's also the pictures she drew."
Holden pointed at the drawings from the Art Club—there was a charcoal drawing of a girl holding a stake, striking fanged creatures. The drawing had Ananda Kanok typed underneath.
"Face it, Albert, Ananda is our Slayer."
Albert peers into the classroom, and watches Ananda and the other students. How can you miss her? thought Albert, when she bloody looks like that. Ananda was playing violin, her eyes fixed to the teacher.
"I just can't believe it, Holden. We have a war going on. The Slayer is not supposed to have Down's Syndrome."