Chapter 6 – Kurt of Bayville High

Author's note – This Chapter, and the character of Mrs Laura McCann, are dedicated to the memory of the recently deceased Sir Terry Pratchett, who I met once, back in the 1990's. He knew of the importance of stories, laughter, books, and humanity (and also Orangutans). Soleana – yes, he recognises Charles Xavier, (which is one of the reasons why he does not exactly trust him) as can be seen from this paragraph from the last chapter - Yes, it was the same one as had been at the Xavier Mansion yesterday, the one who had been talking to Magneto. Kurt did not entirely trust him, but certainly wanted to listen to what he had to say. Now on with the story;

It was the first time that Kurt had ever been inside a school building. It was the first time that Kurt had ever been lost inside a school building. He was looking for Room 36, which, annoyingly, seemed to have completely disappeared. It was Monday morning, his first day at school, and he had to locate Room 36 for his first ever lesson. So he had followed the rooms, numbered 29 to 34, on the not unreasonable expectation that Room 36 would be close by. Then, suddenly, he had found himself opposite Room 41, with no idea where Room 36 was. He felt very confused, and muttered "Labradoodle, labradoodle" under his breath a few times, to see if it really would help him to feel better. It did help, but only a little bit, as he was still lost, frustrated, and rapidly becoming late. Of course, if he had actually previously found the room, then he could have merely teleported into it, or just outside it, in order to avoid unwanted attention, but to do so, he first had to know where the room was. And he didn't. And he was getting even more frustrated, and was already ten minutes late for his first ever lesson in school. Kurt was getting desperate, and worried, so when he saw Toad, lurking by the lockers and occasionally glaring at him, Kurt decided that perhaps he should just swallow his pride, and ask for his help. After all, what was the worst that could happen? So he made his way towards Toad, who stared at him warily. Kurt put up his disguised hands, to show that he did not intend to be a threat. "I know we haven't exactly got off to a very good start here," he began slowly.

"You got that right, blue boy," Toad muttered in response.

"Look, we don't have to like each other," Kurt began, and then spoke in little more than a whisper, "but we are both mutants, in a place that does not exactly like mutants. We should at least try to be civil to each other, in public at least."

"What do you want?" Toad demanded, "I'm late for class as it is, without you getting me into more trouble."

"I'm late for class too," Kurt replied, "because I can't find the classroom. I'm looking for Room 36."

Toad stared at him for a moment, "Mrs McCann's class?" he asked. "The Scottish lady who teaches English and Drama?"

Kurt sighed, and looked down at his timetable. "Yes, that's the one. Now please, just tell me where I need to go, and I will quite happily leave you alone."

Toad leaned against the wall, "Oh, all right," he said, "you go down that corridor there, down the stairs, and then turn right. Now hurry up and go."

Kurt stared at him for a long moment. He certainly did not trust Toad, but the slimy little creep would surely have nothing to gain by lying to him.

"Well, hurry up," Toad said, waving his hands vaguely in the direction indicated, "You don't want to be even later for class, do you?"

Kurt sighed, "Thank you," he said, and made off in the direction indicated.

He opened the door in front of him, and then stared at where about a dozen women and men in suits looked up from where they had clearly been having a meeting. Kurt shifted uneasily under their questioning gazes. "Um, sorry," he said, "I was looking for Room 36. It seems to have vanished."

The woman nearest to him sighed, "They haven't finished changing the signs around yet, it's very confusing if you don't know your way around. If you don't mind, I will escort our guest to Mrs McCann's classroom." She got up, and pointed Kurt in the direction of the door.

Kurt gave a sigh of relief, "Thank you," he said, "sorry for interrupting your meeting, I was given the wrong directions," by that slimy little Toad, he added mentally.

"No problem," said his companion, "to be perfectly honest, that was a pretty boring meeting, anyway. We've been discussing funding issues for the year ahead, which is just as exciting as it sounds."

Kurt gave a little laugh, "I'm not sure I know what that means," he admitted.

"I'm not sure they do, either," his companion replied, "basically, we're trying to discuss how to do more on less funding. And those in charge don't seem to realise that this is quite a difficult thing to do. Still, I daresay you have your own issues to think about, without worrying about the funding issues of our school."

"Yes, that's true," Kurt replied. You don't know how true that really is, he added mentally. They walked on in silence for a few minutes, as Kurt realised that they were going in exactly the opposite direction to which Toad had indicated. Upon realising this, his dislike for the other boy only intensified, and for the briefest moment, he thought about trying to get revenge. But no, that would not do any good in the long run, was bound to come back and hurt him in some way. Besides, he had enough to worry about with a giant robot, the mutant hating HDL members and all the potential trouble that they might cause, as well as having to deal with the more mundane issues involved in starting his first ever day at school. Toad really was not worth worrying about, compared to all the other issues that he had to deal with.

"Well, here we are," said Kurt's companion, outside the extremely elusive door to Room 36. "I hope you have a nice first day at school, I remember how nerve-wracking that could be. Don't worry about Mrs McCann, though, she's lovely." With that, she waved at him, and set off in the direction in which they had come.

Kurt looked down, checked that he was not blue and furry, and that his tail was not showing. But no, he looked normal enough. Which meant he just had to worry about, well, normal things, such as being late for his first ever day of school. He sighed, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

He entered the room, and smiled apologetically at the lady at the front of the room, "Sorry I'm late," he said, his voice quiet and contrite. He looked up, and saw Toad at the back of the classroom, where he was stifling giggles. Kurt glared at him, then turned his attention back to the lady, "I was given the wrong instructions about how to get here," he said, and then glared at Toad for another moment, before turning his attention back to the lady in front of him once more.

She nodded her understanding, "This place can be worse than Watership Down for hidden tunnels and getting lost in," she said, her voice compassionate, and with a pleasant Scottish lilt.

Kurt smiled up at her, feeling more than a little relieved. She was not a young woman, her red hair streaked with grey, and she wore a blue tartan skirt and a frilly blue blouse. She almost reminded Kurt of his own mother, back in Germany, and Kurt started to relax a little under the kindly gaze of her brown eyes. She nodded encouragingly to Kurt, "So, you must be that exchange student from Europe that I've been hearing about?"

"I must be?" Kurt asked, looking around himself suddenly, and then grinning self-consciously, "I mean, yes, obviously I must be, I am, ha, yes of course…" his nervous voice trailed off as he noticed that the other students in the class had started to laugh at him.

"My name is Mrs Laura McCann," the lady replied, "and I teach English and Drama here. Now, why don't you tell us something about yourself?" she said encouragingly.

My name is Kurt Wagner, and I'm blue and furry, but you can't tell because I have a fancy watch which hides my true appearance, Kurt thought to himself. I can just imagine the trouble that that would cause if I were to say that out loud. Still, I have to say something, "Um, hello," he began, "my name is Kurt Wagner," well, that part seemed safe enough, "and I'm, um, from Bavaria in Germany."

"That is interesting," said Mrs McCann, who seemed to genuinely mean it, "and what sort of things did you do back in Germany, Kurt?"

Mostly I tried to hide from those who would want to harm someone who is blue and furry, Kurt thought. He looked down. "Um, I'm not really that interesting, Mrs McCann," he began quietly, "I'm just a normal teenager, that's all."

Mrs McCann smiled at him, and nodded, "Of course you are, Kurt," she said, "and, as a perfectly normal teenager, you must have done something interesting back in Germany."

Kurt suddenly felt hunted. It would not be so bad if Mrs McCann had been horrible towards him, he thought, then he could justifiably hate her for asking all of these awkward questions. But she was being so nice and understanding, which just made this torture worse, "Um…" Kurt began, and then inspiration struck him, "last summer, I worked in a circus, as an assistant to a magician, and then as an acrobat." That had to count as interesting, didn't it?

"That is so fascinating," she replied, "what sort of things did you do in the circus, specifically."

"Um," Kurt began, then brightened when he saw some brightly coloured chalk, behind her, "I can show you, if you like," he offered.

Mrs McCann looked a little uncertain for a moment, but then brightened, "Why not?" she said.

Kurt picked up six differently coloured chalks, and started to juggle them. The students, who up until that point had only been paying him a limited amount of attention, suddenly seemed to be watching him with enthusiasm and interest, as the chalks seemed to fly from his hands, leaping higher and higher into the air, only to be replaced a moment later, with differently coloured chalks. A few of the students began laughing and clapping, and Kurt grinned to himself, as he caught the final piece of chalk, and bowed down low in a theatrical manner. Perhaps this school thing was not nearly as bad as he had imagined it was going to be. He turned back to Mrs McCann, "I also worked on magic tricks, and walked across tight-ropes and performed on a trapeze, but I don't think I can demonstrate that here very easily," he said.

Mrs McCann laughed, "Perfectly understandable, Kurt. Now I really do think that we should get on with the lesson," she pointed in the direction of the spare seat at the back of the class, "why don't you sit down there, and I'm sure Mr Tolansky will tell you where we have got up to in our class on Shakespeare."

Kurt stifled a groan, but there did not seem to be any other spare seats. No one seemed to want to sit next to Toad, and Kurt could perfectly understand why. Still, he did not want to cause trouble on his very first ever lesson in school, so strode morosely towards the boy who was rapidly becoming his worst enemy. He sat down next to him, and gingerly looked at the book that he had open in front of him. "That was a cruel trick you played on me, Toad," Kurt muttered in a low, menacing whisper, "sending me off in the wrong direction like that. It wasn't nice and it wasn't funny."

"Oh, I don't know, I thought was a little bit funny," Toad whispered back, "and anyway, you deserved it for getting me in trouble with Mystique," he added.

"You got yourself in trouble with Mystique," Kurt hissed back, just as Toad grinned at him, and indicated the ponytail of the girl in front of him. Toad then yanked the ponytail, hard.

The girl turned around and glared at Toad. "What?" he said, with fake innocence, and then pointed towards Kurt, "It was him who did it!"

Kurt felt so annoyed with Toad for saying that, that for a moment, he could not even respond. The girl turned her icy glare from Toad to Kurt, "Do that again, and I will punch you into next week," she hissed.

"You'd better do what she says," said Toad in a half-whisper, "she's a mutant, and just might be able to do that to you."

"You mean there are more mutants than just us here?" Kurt asked.

"Quiet, teacher's talking again," Toad whispered.

"Ah, Mr Tolansky," said Mrs McCann, "Since it is so clear that you are showing our new member where we are in our course on the complete works of Shakespeare, perhaps you would also like to share this information with the rest of the class," she said, coming towards their desk.

"Um, Romeo and Juliet," he muttered.

"Correct," she said, turning towards the rest of the class, "perhaps the Bard's most famous play, and the one that we will be performing just before the break at Christmas, which is why I want to remind you that we have rehearsals on Friday. Those wishing to take part in this play, remember that this does count towards your final grade. Otherwise, there is a list of essays that you can submit on a Shakespeare play of your choice, or you can come and see me after lesson if you are desperate to choose your own question. Now, on with Shakespeare."

Toad groaned as he looked at the book in front of him. Mrs McCann gave him a questioning look, "Do you have a problem with the work of the Bard of Stratford-upon-Avon, Mr Tolansky" she asked.

Toad looked embarrassed for a moment, and then shrugged, "Why do we have to learn about the plays of a dead rich Englishman anyway?" he asked.

Mrs McCann looked hard at him for a moment, over the top of her glasses, then seemed to relent. "That is actually a good question," she said after an awkward moment of silence, "can anyone else answer that? Yes, Ms Pryde?"

The girl in front of Toad had put her hand up, and put it down when Mrs McCann's attention was turned towards her, "It's because they were some of the only people who could write back then," she said, "the level of literacy at the time not being very high. So we have to use the sources that are available to us, meaning that most of the stories that survive are from upper-class white men."

"Exactly, Ms Pryde," replied Mrs McCann, "We have to work with what we have available, which, unfortunately means that we are often limited to the writings of, as has already been indicated, the stories of rich, white men. But there are stories that have come down to us from a much wider demographic." She turned to the chalkboard behind her, as Kurt quickly looked up the word demographic in his new dictionary. Mrs McCann wrote the word folklore on the chalkboard, and then turned back to the class, "does anyone know the meaning of this word?" she asked.

Ms Pryde's hand shot up in the air again. Judging by the expressions of those around her, this was fairly common behaviour on her behalf. "Yes, Ms Pryde," said Mrs McCann, after looking around briefly, to see if anyone else wanted to contribute. They all seemed perfectly happy to let Ms Pryde answer, though. "It means the lore of the folk," she said, "stories that were handed down, by word of mouth, from one person or group of people, to another."

"Perfectly correct," Mrs McCann replied, "and sometimes, these stories were later written down. Does anyone know of any individuals or groups that might have done this?"

Ms Pryde's hand shot up again. Mrs McCann looked around the rest of the class, "Does anyone other than Ms Pryde want to contribute?" she asked, with a very small sigh.

"How about the Brothers Grimm?" said Kurt, before he could stop himself. Suddenly, all eyes were upon him once more. Kurt swallowed slightly under the glare of nearly thirty pairs of eyes, including the bright eyes of Ms Pryde, staring directly at him.

"Yes, very good Mr Wagner, that's one of the most famous examples," replied Mrs McCann, "but there have been plenty more. Stories are as old as humanity itself, and in fact, humanity has been referred to as Pan Narrans, the Storytelling Ape, by the sadly deceased Sir Terry Pratchett, among others, since stories are found in all human cultures, past, present and no doubt future, although literacy is a comparatively recent development. Why do you think that is? Why are stories so ubiquitous? Why are stories important?"

Ms Pryde yet again put her hand up. Mrs McCann looked at the rest of the class, sighed, and said, "Go on, Ms Pryde."

"It's because they're fun, but more than that," she said, "they allow us to get into the heads of people who might have lived and died hundreds or thousands of years ago, and to see that they thought much like we do now, to understand people who we might have otherwise thought were very different from us, to see that they are not actually that different at all."

"Correct again, Ms Pryde," Ms McCann said, "Stories allow us to develop empathy, the ability to understand that those who lived far away or long ago, those that we sometimes think are very different from ourselves, also had a sense of I, that they worried about the same sort of things that we do now; fitting in, making friends, surviving and doing their best to thrive, although they might have lived in a very different culture to the one that we live in now." She turned back to the chalkboard, and wrote the word liber on it, before turning back to the class once more. "This is a Latin word. Can anyone suggest what it might mean?"

Ms Pryde put her hand up again. So did Kurt. Mrs McCann pointed at Kurt, "Yes, Mr Wagner?" she said.

"It means book," he said.

"No, it means free," Ms Pryde said, glaring at him once more.

"You are both right," said Mrs McCann, "as is the case with many English words, this word has more than one meaning; it means both book and free. You can see the connection from some modern words in English, such as library, where we go to get free books. And books, stories, can give us a level of freedom to explore the possible, and the impossible, which is why they are so important. And the Bard of Stratford-upon-Avon was a great storyteller, who used numerous story telling devices and tropes that have been used and parodied countless times since the time of Shakespeare himself. Which is why we are studying him now. Right, that was an interesting and relevant diversion, but back to Romeo and Juliet now."

The lesson went on, and Kurt was surprised to discover that he was actually enjoying it. Mrs McCann explained about Shakespeare in a manner that was animated almost to the point of being obsessive, claiming that his plays were all about the human condition, and involved a lot of violence, and were, in some cases, incredibly rude. Romeo and Juliet had, apparently, been intentionally idiots, too blind with romantic desire to be able to think sensibly about the consequences of their actions, and the tale had been a warning against such strong emotions from teenagers who were still too young to properly understand or control these emotions. Of course, the story had been misinterpreted over the years as being a great love story, by people who tended to forget that it was a tragedy. Kurt had actually felt disappointed when the lesson had finished.

Just as he was about to leave, Mrs McCann came over to him, "How are you settling in here?" she asked.

Kurt shrugged, "It's okay," he said, "I guess it takes a little while to get used to living in another culture," he added.

Mrs McCann nodded, "It took me a while to adjust when I first came over from the Isle of Skye in Scotland," she said, "give it time. If you need to talk to someone about feelings of loneliness or homesickness, then I don't mind listening, sometimes it can really help just having a sympathetic ear from someone who knows what it feels like to be far from home."

Kurt smiled at her, "I appreciate the offer," he said, unsure if it was appropriate to accept or not.

Mrs McCann nodded again, "Will you be auditioning for the play on Friday?" she asked.

"I hadn't really thought about it," Kurt admitted, "I have to see how much free time I will have, what with all my other school work and things that I have to get done."

"I understand," she replied, "but it will contribute to your final grade if you do choose to get involved. And I get the feeling that you are an active learner, the sort who learns better by actually doing activities, rather than simply being talked at. Of course, the final decision is yours, and I will respect that decision, no matter what it is."

"Thank you," he replied.

"Right, you had better hurry up to your next lesson," said Mrs McCann, "you don't want to be late again."

Kurt merely nodded, and left her classroom, thinking that his first ever lesson inside a school classroom had gone much better than he had been expecting, or dared to hope.