Vaporizing my Teacher

Mr. Oliver told me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could see all the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

In the sky, a storm was brewing, and the clouds have turned blacker than I'd ever seen in the city, Though it was somewhat normal as the weather had been weird ever since Christmas.

In the sky, I noticed that a fierce storm was brewing, its ominous presence casting a dark shadow over the world below. The clouds had turned a deep shade of black, darker than anything I had ever seen in the city.

It was as if they were trying to warn us of the impending danger that was about to descend upon us. Despite the fact that this weather had been somewhat normal ever since Christmas, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of my stomach.

Anywhere from snowstorms, floods, wildfires from lightning strikes, and earthquakes; I wouldn't be surprised if this was a hurricane.

Though besides me no one else seemed to notice, as soon guys were bullying the pigeons with Lunchable crackers.

Clancy Fuller was pickpocketing some poor old defenseless lady, which Mrs. Feilds ignored.

Aleister and I sat on the of a fountain away from everybody else, we both thought if we did that people wouldn't know we were from that school, the school for losers and freaks who couldn't make it anywhere else in the world.

"Detention?" Aleister asked

I scoffed, "I wish, not Oliver; I just wish he would just lay off of me at times, I'm not a genius."

Though I was... just not book smart, when it came to wits, cunningness, and wiseness then I'm a genuis when it comes to that.

Aleister stayed quiet for a while, just when I thought he was going to say something deep and profound he simply said, "Can I have your apple."

I'm not a big fan of apples, so I simply tossed the apple to him.

...

...

...

I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue as my mind lingered on my mom's apartment, which was a little uptown from where we sat. I haven't been able to see her since Christmas... I just wanted to jump in a taxi and rush home, She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Horizon, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

Mr. Oliver parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table.

Pretty handy if you ask me.

I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Clancy Fuller appeared in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Aleister's lap.

"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I was so mad my mind went blank.

Screw counselors.

My vision turned black as if I suddenly became blind.

I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Lucas pushed me!"

If I didn't know any better I would have thought Ms. Fields was a magician, as she somehow magically appeared next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—her shadow—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble again.

Though what else is new?

As soon as Mrs. Fields was sure poor little Clancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Fields turned on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester for this, "Now, sweety—"

"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."

Apparently, that wasn't the right thing to say, sue me.

"Come with me," Mrs. Fields said.

"Wait!" Aleister yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stared at Aleister, stunned. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for me.

Mrs. Fields always scared Aleister to death like some kind of boogeyman.

She glared at him so hard I swear I could see him visually shaking.

"I don't think so, Mr. Nightingale," she said.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—here."

Aleister looked at me desperately, like I took his lunch money.

"It's okay, man," I told him. "Thanks for trying."

"Sweety," Mrs. Fields barked at me. "Now."

I could see Clancy Fuller smirking in victory.

So I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turned to face Mrs. Fields, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast?

A magician I tell you.

Though I have moments like that a lot when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it.

The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure about that though...

I went after Mrs. Fields after a quick sigh.

Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Aleister. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Oliver, like he wanted Mr. Oliver to notice what was going on, but Mr. Oliver was absorbed in his novel.

I looked back up. Mrs. Fields had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I thought. Maybe she's going to make me buy a new shirt for Clancy at the gift shop.

I lost count of how much I was wrong this day.

I followed her deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery was empty.

Mrs. Fields stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, similar to growling.

Even without the weird noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher,

especially Mrs. Fields, something about the way she looked at the frieze as if she wanted to

pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, sweety," she said.

I couldn't help but furrow my brows, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugged on the cuffs of her windbreaker as she looked at me, "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me.

I couldn't help but get the same feeling in the pit of my stomach like earlier when I looked at the clouds, I said, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."

Suddenly thunder shook the building.

"We are not fools, Lucas Grey," Mrs. Fields said. "It was only a matter of time before we

found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she was talking about.

My mind raced with multiple scenarios, all I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hissed.

Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers

stretched, turning into talons. Her windbreaker melted into large, leathery wings.

She wasn't human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me into ribbons.

Somehow things got even stranger, which I didn't think was possible.

Mr. Oliver, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into

the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"Lucas!" he shouted and tossed the pen through the air.

Mrs. Fields lunged at me.

I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint pen

out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword, a dark black sword.

Mrs. Fields spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes.

If it were any other kid in my situation, I'm sure they would have wet themselves or started panicking like crazy, but with the sword in my hand, my mind was calm, weirdly calm.

She snarled, "Die, sweety!"

Suddenly she flew straight at me.

My body moved on its own, as I sidestepped to the right and slashed my weird sword at her waist, and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water.

- Hisss!

Her body let out a weird hiss sound as if Mrs. Fields was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech, and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.

Looking around me I noticed I was alone.

There was a ballpoint pen in my hand, no sword.

Mr. Oliver wasn't there.

Nobody was there but me.

Since there was no sword in my hands anymore and just a pen, my hands started trembling.

I started to think my lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

Had I imagined the whole thing?

I went back outside, in a slight daze.

It had started to rain.

Aleister was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Clancy Fuller was

still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Leah whipped your butt."

Who the hell is Ms. Leah?

"Who?" I asked.

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blinked.

We had no teacher named Mrs. Leah. I asked Clancy what she was talking about, but she just rolled her eyes at me and turned away.

I asked Aleister where Mrs. Fields was.

He said, "Who?"

I saw him pause first, and he wouldn't look at me, so I thought he was messing with me.

"Not funny, man," I told him, "This is serious."

Suddenly thunder boomed overhead.

I saw Mr. Oliver sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book as if he'd never moved.

I went over to him.

He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Grey."

I handed Mr. Oliver his pen back.

I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," I said, "where's Mrs. Fields?"

He stared at me blankly. "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Fields. The Science teacher."

Mr. Oliver frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Lucas, there is no Mrs. Fields on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Fields at Horizon Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

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