FEBRUARY 8, 2006
"Dammit! I lost to a Rayquaza again!" a ninth-grader shouted after losing the same Pokemon battle for the third time.
"That's because your Walrein is not powerful enough," Crysta said, "Perhaps you should train it some more."
The bus made its stop at FernGully Middle School and Crysta et al. skipped their way to the roomy entrance. On one wall opposite the trophy case was a poster informing the school how much money grades six through eight raised through a Valentine Grams fundraiser. Grade seven was leading with $1452, grade eight trailing behind with $1273, and grade six in last with $1181. Grams came in various sizes: a $5 small bag of candy, a $9 medium box of candy with two donuts, and a $14 large basket of goodies with a small Valentine's plushie. The money was supposed to help the school district provide transportation to sports teams.
Crysta's wardrobe change was minimal. She wore ruby lipstick, heavy metal band bracelets, a Rolling Stones necklace, a red shirt with art from The White Stripes' Elephant album, blue jeans that slightly hugged her legs, and black glossy pumps. Her hair gradually grew and had extra shine, thanks to lemon juice. Her body matured as her pair of wings grew to one foot each, her breasts grew more ample, her curves more pronounced, her height grew to six feet, and her voice slightly sultry. Even with Crysta's natural transformation, the male paraeducators only greeted her with a high-five or an elbow bump because they were used to being cool and friendly with the students. The females were more serious but in a competent manner and they understood how each kid matures. They often had to send the males elsewhere to talk privately with the students about highly personal topics.
Crysta entered her ELA 8 class to see two medium and two small Grams on her desk. Her teacher Mrs. Rodriguez commented, "Looks like Crysta has a secret admirer! You have any idea who it is?"
"I am not entirely sure, Mrs. Rodriguez. I have one person in mind, but I better keep guessing," Crysta sat at her desk to work on an entry task. She tapped her feet on the floor while writing word after word, rubbed her left hand on her right breast, and breathed in and out through her nose. Her knees buckled as she tried to resist the urge with her new method: thinking of roadkill. Not just bodies in one piece; trucks and logs colliding with the wildlife; blood and gore spilling everywhere; and their loved ones witnessing the tragedies with tears flowing down their cheeks. The superego and id played a fantasy card game with the most competitive sets that would make devoted fans of tabletop games salivate waterfalls.
Today's class was another average day of reading a classic novel that many students would not know its deeper meaning. Crysta's next three classes—algebra, American history, and Earth science—were nothing different. When lunchtime came around, her body grew warm as she slightly sashayed into the cafeteria, her heart raced while gathering her lunch, and her face turned red as she sat at one end of a table. Conveniently standing there, Mrs. Rodriguez noticed Crysta, "You are still thinking of your secret admirer, Crysta?"
"No, ma'am," Crysta replied, "It is this…this feeling of going to high school and learning more about our natural world. For one, we learned in my history class that certain politicians considered 'do-nothing' would be voted out by the people of America. Nowadays, our people have this habit of voting for politicians who use their mouths and money instead of a pen and paper—or their heads. I read this article in a newspaper while looking at the Sunday comics section."
"What was the article about?" Mrs. Rodriguez asked as she took a drink from her bottle of water.
"It read about the many politicians—especially Republicans—that claim the issue of climate change is a hoax. The author added that the same politicians have raked millions of dollars from the fossil fuel companies for their campaigns. One of them from Florida even held a souvenir shop that sold clothes, mugs, welcome mats, and cutouts of himself.," Crysta sighed in disappointment, "I just do not get how we have people in our country who do not take politics seriously."
Phillip—now nicknamed "Pips"—walked over to greet Crysta at the table as Jade joined her. "Hello, Crysta! It's a nice day outside! I was wondering if you want to play football with us later," Pips offered.
"Oh, I would love to, Pips, but I promised my friend here we would be working on a science project," Crysta sipped her chocolate milk.
Pips understood, "Okay, you ladies get going with your experiment while I—"
"It's a diorama on water pollution," Jade corrected.
"Cool! Are you going to tell the class what would happen if the aliens came to Earth and poured contaminated cola into our water supply?" Pips joked, "That will be so cool!"
Crysta finished her lunch and sarcastically replied, "Yeah,...that will be cool. Maybe next year, you should come up with something extraordinary for your science project. I totally guarantee those bug-brained layabouts over at the other table will give you some great ideas."
The two girls stood up to get working on their project. Jade quietly told her brother, "I think Crysta is in love with you. I can already tell by the dominant look in her eyes, her towering posture, her puckered-up lips—Oh! I must get going!" Jade flew to her friend. Her blue backpack slipped out of her hand on the way out, but she picked it up immediately.
Pips walked over to meet four boys dubbed the Beetle Boys. Each one had their distinguishable characteristics:
Stump: muscular, six feet even, and with average white skin; the pack leader and loved going to the gym after school; would always come up with elaborate ideas
Root: slightly pudgy, five-foot-six, and with white-red skin; assumed the role of an advisor but often wanted to go independent
Knotty: lanky, six-foot-five, and with a tan; had an interest in drama and made impressions of Rodger Bumpass, Daran Norris, and Ron Paulsen
Bark: hooded, five-foot-one, and mostly mute; would play with action figures and get in danger
Stump waved his hand to Pips, "'Sup, Pips?"
"Boys, I need your help."
Root said, "You do? Let me guess—you TP'ed someone's house again?"
"No, this is a whole new matter," Pips shakingly asserted, "I already spent most of my thirty dollars on those Valentine Grams and sent them to Crysta."
"So?" Root asked.
"I need to get another thirty dollars. I have to save up for whatever new Pokémon games are coming out for the DS."
Stump requested, "Just ask your parents for another thirty dollars. What's the big deal?"
"I can't just ask my parents for more money; I need to earn it by working around the house."
After he bit into his cheeseburger, Stump insisted, "Then keep doing what your parents demand from you! It's not rocket science! After an hour in the local gym, I usually go home to haul buckets of silage to my dad's cows. Have a look at how much my last paycheck was!" He reached into his coat pocket and opened his cash like a fan, "See? I earned $120 from last week's worth." He stuffed the money back in and advised Pips, "If you really want to make el dinero, you should do more than housework, Pips. You must search for other ways to make up for your losses; otherwise, you will be living in one of the filthiest alleyways of the city."
Root commented, "And who knows where the money is going to? No one could hold a fundraiser without some sort of goal or something."
Knotty added, "You saw some students holding ads for the fundraiser? They are the same ones that play sports after school and need transportation. My mom was in a chatroom with parents whose kids go to those extra-curricular activities. They said they do not want to carpool all the time."
Stump asked, "And what can we exactly do about this?"
Knotty pondered, "Here's what we should do: hold a community yard sale at my place. We should thoroughly search our homes and gather everything we no longer need. Encourage your family members and friends to expedite our goals. The sooner we get it done, the sooner those kids get to ride the buses anywhere."
The three boys looked at each other and agreed. Bark grew anxious and rubbed his hands on his head. Stump patted his hand on Bark's shoulder, "Don't worry, Bark. We can help you raise the money. We can assign you as a cashier. How about that?"
Bark clapped his hands and smiled in his brown parka.
AFTER SCHOOL
Pips' parents arrived at the parking lot's pick-up/drop-off area. He, Jade, and his four friends walked toward the burgundy SUV.
"Hello, you two. How was school today?" his mother Ellen asked.
"Great, mom. Say—can you do us a favor real quick?" Pips bit into a meat stick.
"What's that?" his father Steve said.
Root replied, "We need one thousand dollars and we want to hold a collaborative yard sale to get rid of our old stuff."
Ellen was surprised, "A thousand dollars?...and you want to sell your old things?"
"Yeah," Pips said.
"And why do you need that kind of money?" Steve questioned.
"It's for our sports teams. They need it to go to many other schools," Root answered.
Ellen's eyes widen, "Oh, sure! We can help you all get started on your business."
Steve added, "I have a working Laserdisc player and many Laserdisc movies in the attic. I know some guys around here that collect old physical media."
"Like VHS and Betamax, Steven?"
"Oh—right! I have some Betamax tapes too," Steve said as more ideas came into his mind, "And some old toys, clothes, and magazines!"
Root said to Pips with excitement, "You hear that, Pips? We will earn a thousand dollars in no time!"
Pips shook hands with Root, "Why thank you! Those sports kids will thank us for the hard work!"