Chapter 2

Jackson and I arrived at the jailhouse style front gate of Yankee Gifted School.  Despite the large age gap between myself and my little seven-year-old brother, our school housed all its students from Kindergarten to Senior year of high school. 

Every single time we turned the corner to face the bland concrete building, Jackson’s hand would lock down on my hand.  He had a deep distain for this place, ever since three bullies trapped him in the bathroom and forced him to cry before they would let him out.  Each nail dug a deep burrow into the top of my hand.  He trembled as if he had found a dead body that had been sweltering in the hot sun for ten days stinking up the area and building a colony of flies.  

“Calm down Jackson, it’s just school kiddo,” I said.  

The courtyard contained random students lounging around waiting for the warning bell while being guarded by a few staggered adults.  A full-on riot of hormonal teens could develop in an instant and there would be nothing the handful of adults could do to stop it.  They did not get paid enough to risk injury or insult from a group of wild kids fighting over Star Trek versus Star Wars. 

Nothing of note ever happened at this place, at least not during my tenure.  Small tussles would break out and break up as fast as they started.  As I gazed through the crowd towards the arched front entrance, I spotted with my little eye something exciting and welcoming.  May I introduce Jennifer Hunley, my best friend and classmate since Kindergarten. 

“What’s up babe?  You look sleepy,” she said. 

Jackson swapped his hand from mine to Jenn’s and stuck his tiny red tongue out at me. 

“I am sleepy you big goof.  Aren’t we all?”  I spoke. 

Jennifer smirked at my sarcasm, “Jacky Jack Jackson, what’s good little dude?”  

With a big smile, Jackson wrapped his arms around her thigh and climbed onto her shoe, it was truly an exceptional task for him.  Jennifer had thighs thicker than most of the trees around here, she worked out a lot but never told anyone.  All the boys loved to watch her traverse the courtyard and the locker riddled hallways and... well, everywhere. 

After dropping Jackson off at the rambunctious Kindergarten classroom, Jennifer and I walked the maze to the other side of the school to get to our first block, English with Mrs. Tannell.  

Tannell the Terror we called her; she was a very serious older lady that took English as serious as a home invasion in the middle of nowhere.  

One year, the rumor is, she took a kid out by both ears for not saying excuse me after sneezing.  This kid had to have one ear reattached, that is how serious she was about her job.  Every now and again one of us would sneeze and wait as long as possible before our nerve ran out and we mumbled ‘Excuse me’ out of fear of ear decapitation. 

Always being the last to arrive to class, Mrs. Tannell would eyeball the both of us.  We had to get Jackson to class, we whimpered as she just burned holes through us for almost slowing her teaching progress.  Jennifer was not as fearful as I was, but she did not really care too much since her father left the family and disappeared from her life. 

“Ladies...as I was saying class, your first exercise for today’s lesson is to write about something odd that happened to you recently.  It could be about anything.  If you must, just make something up,” she said. 

With a quick eye, Jennifer looked over at me and back on her paper.  She was going to make something wild up, I knew it. 

“Watch this,” she said.

My brain went into a fit of laughter while willing my body into a stoic state as to ensure the safety of my ears.  My best friend was a master at embellishment and imagination.  It was at that moment, fighting off laughter, that I knew what I would write about.

Thump, sixteen seconds, thump.

Hopefully, I truly hoped, putting this silly thing on paper would relieve my subconscious and allow me to drop this whole silly thing.  As I began writing, my mind started to add details to the thumping incident that I did not remember at all.  

I managed to construct a fantastic piece, single spaced filling out the entire front sheet.  My hands wrote so fast that I knew it had to be the truth.  Making things up took time and I had not, I was the first one done. 

Mrs. Tannell noticed this, and it was then that I knew she would have me present to the class.  I had to do it, there was no getting out of it.  If it was any other teacher then I would have put up a struggle, but it was Tannell the Terror and no one messed with the Terror and lived to fight another day. 

“Ms. Ericson, you’re up,” she said.

Standing to walk to the aged, solid wood podium that was setup directly next to the Terror’s desk my shoes yelped a wicked screech which added to my lackadaisical approach.  This was going to be painful and the entire room could sense it. 

Here is the transcript.

Last night, the urge to sleep escaped me.  My body was not ready to fall into a slumberous state, so my brain took over and something odd happened.  Through all the creaks and pops of a house exhaling, a new sound introduced itself to my ears.

A thump floated its way through the air and into my room.  At first, it was easy to ignore along with the other random sounds that came out at night.  It was not until the fourth or fifth thump that I was able to discover a pattern.  Sleep was far away from my life, so I counted the seconds between thumps.   

Sixteen seconds.  Exactly sixteen.  There was no deviation in the occurrence, even when the a.c. had turned off and the house adjusted to the new atmosphere.  

Each thump, I counted the time.  Each thump right up until I fell asleep.  In that moment that I did not count the duration of the final thump I would knowingly hear something whispered to me.  Delicate and precise, the silence between thumps talked to me directly. 

"Naomi, find me.  I need your help or something bad is going to happen,” it said. 

The voice was foreign.  Not like overseas foreign but never heard it before fresh.  Thinking back now, I could feel the voice move my hair as it pressed into my ear. 

Tonight is the night that I find the source of the thump and hopefully help the trapped soul that is reaching out for my assistance.  That is, unless it was all a dream. 

Looking up from my paper, my classmates' faces dropped, jaws hanging slack.  I had their full attention now.  They probably all thought I was crazy as a jaybird.  Before I could start to feel the awkwardness of thirty kids focused directly on me, Jennifer jumped from her desk and applauded. 

The others followed.  Every one of them. 

The feeling of getting this oddity off my chest and out into the world was euphoric.  The relief swept my body into the air.  I floated above my classmates staring down at them from the ceiling. 

That is how it felt at least. 

Tannell the Terror cleared her throat and waved her arms to settle everyone and get them seated back into compliance.   

“Naomi, that was...well, that was quite a tale you told.  Thank you for sharing,” she said. 

Nodding my head, I worked my way back to my desk where Jennifer was waiting with an open palm sitting out waiting to be slapped.  

I never declined a high five.  

She said, “Are you kidding me right now?  Is that why you look like you were up all night or is that why your eyes are brown because you’re full of shit?” 

She got me; my eyes were brown, but I did not have a spec of feces in me.  That story was the exact truth and that scared the life out of me.  Do not worry, this is not the part where I died.

That will come later.  Can you imagine dying from fear?  Nothing sounds scarier, no pun intended.

“Jenn, that happened?  Seriously, that happened?” I spoke. 

We both sat in silence as Mrs. Tannell continued with the lesson of the day.  Neither of us absorbed any of the lesson, hell, I do not remember one word after I finished my presentation.  

The bell rang out, screaming at all of us that we had five minutes to get to our next block before we would all be marked tardy and risk detention.  Mrs. Tannell excused all of us with a hefty homework assignment. 

She said, “Naomi, may I have a word?  I’ll give you a hall pass.”  

Jennifer skipped out into the hallway after taking my books and bag for me. 

You do not say no to Tannell the Terror. 

“Let me warn you again, in case your ghost ever tries to condemn me.”

― Dean F. Wilson, Lifemaker

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