Alternate Beginnings
Part Two - Pranking Gladly
Aisha was the first out of the library. Jason followed her; I followed Jason. Eddie pulled himself out of his chair to follow me, and Madison trailed along behind.
"Where are we going?" asked Madison in an undertone.
"Dunno," Eddie grunted.
"What's she doing?" she wanted to know next.
"I have no idea," I whispered back over my shoulder. "Jason, what's Aisha up to?"
"Fucked if I know," he replied with a grin, "but I wanna find out."
Up ahead, Aisha made an indistinct comment about 'elephants on fucking parade' before she came to a halt right in front of a door.
Gladly's door.
"Right," she grinned. "Time to get to fucking work."
He had left his office door unlocked, which was his first mistake. But then, I would not have put it past Aisha to be able to pick locks, too. She eased the door open and slipped into the office; we crowded in after her.
"Okay," she decided, hands on hips. I wasn't quite sure when she had assumed command of our group, but no-one was objecting, not even Eddie, our resident skinhead. He was, in fact, staring around at the interior of the office. I couldn't blame him; I was a little shell-shocked, myself. We were breaking into a teacher's office, to commit some type of mayhem or other. This was a first, in my life.
But not, apparently, in Aisha's.
"Jason, Eddie, you do shop, right?" Aisha went on.
"Sure," Jason agreed. Eddie glared at her, and said nothing.
Aisha sighed and rolled her eyes. "Madison, could you ask your boy-toy if he does shop, and if he's any good at it?"
"He's not my –"
Aisha made an impatient gesture. "Ask him already!"
Madison looked at Eddie. "Uh, Aisha wants to know –"
"I heard her," growled Eddie. "Yeah, I do shop. And I'm better at it than any fucking slanteye."
Jason bristled, and I put a hand on his arm. He turned to me. "Did you hear what he –"
"I heard," I cut him off. "But you know what? Not the time. We're in a teacher's office. If you want to fight, fight, but take it elsewhere." I glared at Eddie. "That goes for both of you."
Eddie looked at the floor and mumbled something which sounded vaguely like "Fine, okay."
"Well fucking said," Aisha praised me. "Now, I can see two things we can do –"
"We can staple all his papers to his desk," Madison offered brightly, brandishing a large and dangerous-looking stapler.
Aisha shook her head, but in a kindly fashion. "Nice idea, and we might do that later, but right now? We want him to think that whatever happens is an accident. Or at least sort of possibly accidental. All his papers getting stapled to his desk? Not an accident."
"So what did you have in mind?" asked Jason.
Aisha grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."
Madison stood back while Jason and Eddie examined the bottom of Gladly's office chair. It was upside down on his desk, having taken both Jason and Eddie to get it there. Each of them pointedly ignored the other, but willingly followed Madison's instructions. It was a half-assed kind of teamwork at best, but teamwork it was.
In the meantime, Aisha and I were looking at his oversized personalised coffee mug, the metal type with a flip-open plastic top.
"Take a switchblade," she explained cheerfully, "and work it around under the rim. You do it right, the next time he goes to drink from it, the top comes off."
"And he wears the lot," I filled in. "That's mean." I paused. "But where are we going to get a switchblade from?"
"I dunno," she commented. "Jason, loan me your blade?"
Jason glanced at her, dug in his pocket, and produced a switchblade, which he slapped into her palm. Aisha popped her gum.
"Okay, smartass," I retorted, "so where are they gonna get the tools to take the base off that chair?"
From one of the larger pockets of her oversized coat, Aisha withdrew a flat black plastic case that rattled as she dropped it on the desk. "I got no fuckin' idea. You tell me."
The miniature tool kit lay open on the desk. Jason held the base of the chair while Eddie unfastened the screws that held it on, the two of them pointedly ignoring one another. If they had something to say, they said it through Madison.
Aisha held the coffee cup while I worked at wriggling the switchblade tip under the rim of the top. As she had stated, it was only glue that held it there, so once we broke that all the way around, the top would come off at the slightest provocation.
"So wait," I said, changing my angle of attack. "You knew we were going to be doing this."
"Not really, no. Gum?"
I accepted the wrapped cube of bubble gum and stowed it in my pocket. "Thanks. So why the toolkit?"
She shrugged. "I figured I'd get the chance to do something if I kept my eyes open, so ..." She popped gum. "And I was right."
"So you just brought along a set." I waved the switchblade. "You couldn't have known someone would have one of these."
"Eh." She shrugged. "A screwdriver'll do the job too." She gave me a flashing grin. "I used to be a Girl Scout, y'know? Always prepared and all that shit."
I raised an eyebrow as I stared at her, in her microscopic tube-top, the ripped denim shorts, the lurid lime-green tights. "You? In the Girl Scouts?"
She shrugged. "Hey. My dad made me go. He said it'd give me structure and discipline in my life."
"And did it?" I figured I knew the answer to that one already.
She popped gum. "Turns out that structure and discipline and me don't get along so well."
"I'd never have guessed."
She grinned at me, then turned to Madison. "How they doing with that?"
"Just about finished, Eddie says."
"Excellent."
Just as she said that, I managed to wriggle the switchblade that last little bit, and the top popped off of the mug. "And we're done here," I added.
"Sweet. So here's what we're gonna do ..."
I knew when Mr Gladly was on the way back, of course. But I couldn't just let the others know I had bug control powers. So I monitored his progress and when I figured we still had just enough time to finish what we were doing, I raised my head.
"I think I just heard something, guys," I warned them.
"Okay," Aisha decided. "That'll have to be good enough. Madison, get 'em to put the chair back together. Taylor, you about done there?"
I looked back down at where I was scraping the remnants of glue off the metal rim of the cup. "Just about."
"Good. Put it together and get rid of the crap. Make sure nothing's out of place."
I nodded, putting the plastic top back on the cup. It still fitted snugly, but any sort of real force would make it pop off. A folded piece of paper from his desktop printer served to hold the scraps of glue and plastic I had scraped off of the mug.
As Jason and Eddie gingerly set the chair down, I swept the evidence of their work on to the paper as well, then folded it up tightly. Madison looked at the paper, then at the printer, then at the laptop which lay folded on the desk.
"Shit," she complained. "How much time do we have?"
"Not enough, I don't think," I advised her. Any trickery with a computer took a little time to set up, and he was already on the way back.
"Yeah, time to go," Aisha agreed.
One by one, we slipped out of the office. I went last, closing the door carefully behind me. Even with my knowledge of his movements, we cut it close; I ducked into the library just a few seconds before he walked around the corner.
We were well engaged in innocuous activities by the time Mr Gladly looked in at the door. Aisha had her trainers propped up on the desk again, I was browsing the shelves for a good book to read, Madison was chatting with Eddie, and Jason was cleaning his nails.
Gladly's eyes narrowed at the sight of Aisha's shoes.
"Miss Laborn -" he began warningly.
She ignored him and popped gum.
He must have recalled how this particular encounter went, the last time he tried to exert his authority over us. So he paused for a long moment, then said lamely, "That's another detention."
She gave him the finger without even looking.
"Careful," he warned. "I can keep giving you detention."
She popped gum. "And I can keep not caring," she retorted. "You gimme detention, you gotta show up too. I can do this all day."
"If detention doesn't get your attention, then maybe suspension or expulsion will," he fired back.
Her shrug communicated supreme indifference. "Cool. I could do with a holiday."
She still hadn't looked at him. The rest of us were covertly watching the both of them.
Perhaps aware of his audience, he withdrew, leaving the library door open behind him.
Putting the book back on the shelf, with the folded paper inside it, I went back to the desks.
"Holy shit," Jason breathed reverently. He was about to say something more, but Aisha held up a finger.
"Wait," she told us quietly. "I wanna hear this."
Nothing seemed to happen for the longest time. I was, of course, aware of Gladly's movements. It was difficult to not let this on, but I managed somehow.
From what my power was telling me, he had a large paper cup of coffee, which he poured into the metal mug. Then he stirred in milk and sugar, at my best guess, before popping the top back down.
There was a large sandwich of some sort - the flies were attracted to the smell of meat and condiments - that he unwrapped from a paper packet.
He sat down in his office chair, picked up the coffee in one hand and the sandwich in the other. Sipping from the coffee, he took a bite from the sandwich, chewing rapidly. He seemed to be talking to himself angrily, probably about Aisha's blatant disrespect; I couldn't quite make out words with my bugs.
He too another sip and another bite, slowly beginning to relax.
And then he leaned back.
At first nothing untoward happened, but then he took another drink from his cup, and at this angle, the top failed to stay on.
Hot coffee - thankfully not hot enough to scald, but plenty hot enough to be uncomfortable - poured over his chin and chest and stomach. This caused him to rear back with his feet still on the floor, trying vainly to escape the flood of hot liquid.
Aisha's toolkit had included a miniature file. Eddie and Jason had, between them, filed down the threads of the screws so that they only just barely held the base of the chair in place. The folded paper that I had stashed in the book held, as well as scraps of glue and plastic, the tiny pieces of metal that had been filed off of the screws.
Mr Gladly's convulsive action sealed his fate. The grip of the screws was already pushed to the breaking point by the fact that he was leaning back; now they pulled free altogether, the base of the chair springing back to the horizontal. This only exacerbated his backward plunge.
What we heard was something along the lines of "NyeaarrrrggghFUCK!", interspersed with a loud crash and clatter.
Aisha leaped to her feet. "Fucking yes!" she exulted, clasping both hands over her head and doing a little victory dance. I held my hand up; she high-fived me, then slapped Jason's hand on the rebound. Jason leaned back and high-fived Madison, who passed it on to Eddie.
"He's coming!" I warned in an undertone; by the time Mr Gladly stormed in through the library doors, we were all seated demurely at our desks. Aisha even had her feet on the floor.
Mr Gladly was … a mess. His grey jacket and white shirt – no tie for Mr G, he was too cool for that – were stained with coffee and what looked like chilli sauce. His hair was disarranged, bits and pieces of sandwich adorned his clothing, and a piece of lettuce was stuck to his forehead.
He was also livid.
"Who did this?" he screamed, holding out a shaking hand, upon which the loosened top of the coffee cup, as well as two of the filed-down screws, were resting.
"Did what, sir?" Jason asked innocently. "You appear to have had a bit of an accident. Are you all right?"
The mild words, far from calming him down, seemed only to stoke his blood pressure. I almost expected to see steam leaking from his ears at any moment.
"You!" he hissed, pointing at Aisha. "You fucking did this, you little bitch!"
Aisha popped gum. "Did what?" she asked blankly.
Mr Gladly stomped right up to her desk. "You sabotaged my chair and my coffee cup!" he screamed at her. "I know you did it! It had to be you!"
"Uh, sir," offered Jason. "She's been in my sight the whole time."
"So it was the two of you!" shouted Gladly, his face still a worrying shade of purple.
"Uh, no, they've both been in my sight the whole time," I spoke up. "They didn't do anything out of my sight."
"And Taylor hasn't gone out of my sight," added Eddie.
"And Eddie's been with me the whole time," Madison concluded.
Aisha grinned. "Yeah," she confirmed. "So unless you want to say that Captain Nazi over there's willing to work with me and Jason, you might wanna think that one through again."
"Yeah, sometimes things just break," Jason pointed out.
"Shit happens," Aisha observed, and popped gum. "The world's an imperfect place."
"If any of you can tell me who did this," Gladly grated, meaning the first person who rats out Aisha Laborn, "you're let off detention as of right now."
A long silence fell. A long, thoughtful silence.
Madison raised her hand.
I felt, rather than saw, Aisha stiffen beside me. Is she going to turn us in?
"Yes, Miss Clements?" responded Mr Gladly. "Do you have something to say?"
"Aisha had no more part in what happened to your chair and your cup than I did," she told him, absolutely truthfully and totally misleadingly. "If you punish her for it, you have to punish me too."
I raised my hand. "Me too," I agreed.
Jason nodded. "And me."
Eddie stuck his hand up briefly. "Me too," he grunted.
Gladly glared at each of us in turn; we gazed innocently back.
"Okay," he growled. "But one more incident – one more – and you're all on detention for the rest of the fucking year! Even if I have to cash in all my vacation days to make it happen!"
Turning, he stomped out of the library.
We all burst out laughing.
I laughed so hard that I fell out of my chair, and rolled on the floor.
Eddie fell over backward, chair and all, and lay there, kicking his heels in the air as he held his sides and laughed.
Aisha and Jason clung together, each too weak from mirth to stay upright, but deriving support from each other.
Madison was leaning against her desk, her face red with hilarity. She was trying to keep it in, but the squeaks emitting from her throat sounded like a mouse on steroids.
We laughed, and laughed, and laughed. I doubled over as I lay on the floor, laughing so hard my stomach hurt. I could hear Aisha not just laughing but cackling, as she had done on the steps outside, and that made me burst out into a fresh wave of laughter.
"Oh god," managed Madison. "Did you see … the lettuce …"
"On his forehead, yeah," I gasped. "I was gonna say … but how do you tell someone about something like that?"
"Oh fuck, that's gotta be the funniest thing I've ever pulled off," Aisha giggled, having slid down from her chair to lean against the desk.
"You fucking rock at the pranks, Aisha," Jason told her with a chuckle.
"I know pranks," Madison told her with an air of solemnity that broke a moment later when she burst out giggling, "and that was a fucking awesome one."
"I will never, in all my life, pull off anything half as good as that one," Eddie agreed, still red in the face from laughing so hard.
"So where's he gotten to?" asked Aisha. "Back in his office?"
"Hardly," I snorted. "He'll have gone to wash his shirt, or at least soak it a bit." My bugs told me, of course, exactly where he was. He'd gone down to the locker room; his shirt was in a basin with hot water, and he was getting ready for a shower.
I was never so glad that my bugs couldn't get me a clear image.
Aisha grinned at me. "So you figure he should be a while?"
I shrugged. "Probably."
Her grin widened. And she said that one word again, the word which spelled trouble every time she uttered it.
"Excellent."
End of Part Two