Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Prelude to a Kiss (part 2)

Gym Class Blues Long and well traveled is the path to the bain of my school day. I glance ahead to see the masses enter the double doors as students and exit with a sadist's idea of uniformity. A good way to look at this was the fact that I could shed these pants that displayed the color of my boxer shorts to all who happened to look. On the other hand this was gym class and nothing good can come of this part of my day. Nothing. As I vengefully stuffed the traitorous pair of pants into my locker, I spied from the corner of my eye, three beastly goliaths being led around as though on a leash, by a fourth, more prominent figure. It was the jock squad. These four bahemoths were responsible for the downfall of grace and civility during any class they happened to be enrolled in. Yes, there was no shortage of crude inuendos and fart jokes when these neanderthals were around. Their leader, was well built. Almost herculean to most of the student body. All he need do was flash a smile and faculty and females were at his beckon call. I loathed him for I had a special place in his daily routine. They approached me with a bit of a swagger. Heard about English class today. Did you? I said. Yup. Nice going! I returned the remark with a "Go-fuck-yourself" look. See ya out there dork. Yah, yer ass is ours! As they turned to go, I wanted to pummel them with a flurry of coarse remarks. I then realized that it would more than likely result in a savage beating. I held my tongue, and made my way to the collisium where Ceasar and his minions awaited this sacrifice. Casualties of War Coach Vermacher. His polo shirt and sport shorts were a constant reminder of how important it is to dress yourself with the aid of lights and a mirror. He stood at the front of row upon row of students that were to become his loyal followers or at least semi-descent athletes. He spoke as though channeling General Patton himself. Listen up ladies! Today we will be doing something different. The Board of Physical Education says I need to test your reflexes and motor skills. So, that's exactly what I'm gonna do. Just then, the Fuhrer's personal TA rolled out a large cage on wheels. In it are what looked like medium, red, rubber spheres. As the cart came closer, I could make out some writing on one of the spheres. It simply said the word, VOIT. I began to tremble for fear of the worst. Could this be? Surely the gods weren't this cruel. Surely they had more than their fill of my torement. Then, he spoke those words. Today, we'll be playing Dodge Ball. Divide up by class and go to your spots. That sick bastard. I knew it. Oh the humanity of it all. This is the game that made bullies into legends and the weak into statistics. My head was reeling as I made my way to my designated encampment. I looked around at my team mates and those whom I would be buried with. The Chess team captain, the Debate Club president, and the head of the Captain Kirk fan guild were among the condemned. We haven't a chance, I thought. I offered up a prayer for my comrades as the first shot rang out. Like a swarm of bees, they flew from all directions. Red blurrs all around me as droves of underclassmen littered the gym floor. I turned to seek shelter when I was staring down the path of a speeding red comet. Instinctively, I put my hands up to brace for the impact. I felt as my hand grasped the fiery object and stopped it dead. I had caught it. By some stroke of luck, I caught it. I opened my eyes to survey the carnage around me. I was surrounded by the upperclassmen. Not one lowerclassmen remain, save myself. I looked in stunned silence as they look back with equal amazement. I had the chance of a lifetime to strike down one of their own. What's it gonna be? The coach snarled. I pulled the ball back over my shoulder as if I was going to throw the game ending strike of a no- hitter. I reared back, closed my eyes and fired with all my strength. I heard a metalic like thunk and a yelp followed by a thud. My target was hit. I opened my eyes to see the three Titans gathered around their master. I had hit the alpha male of the jock squad. He had left himself unguarded and my one ball struck his two balls with grim accuracy. I began to sweat profusely as they helped him to his feet. He was then handed a ball. He looked at me as though I'd killed his family and shot his dog. Someone came up to me, blind folded me and lit a cigarette. I stared in horror as he lined me up in his sights. The four horsemen, with an apocalypse in their eyes, reared back and fired their angry, red spheres at me. I awoke in a daze. The faint memories were being blocked by a dull throb. I looked up in a fog a saw a heavenly aparition. You okay? I could say nothing. Here, put this on your eye. Still, no words. The fog grew thicker and colder. Then Black. (to be continued)

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