Emoke Stories

Sara and the green monster part Two

The next morning, Sara was still shaken up by the possibility that the green monster  existed. She replayed the entire evening in her mind, the way the monster had growled and the way he had looked at her, with his bloodshot eyes. She was totally convinced that the monster was real. No amount of make-up could make anyone look like that. What she needed to do was talk to her teacher, Mrs. Blain, and ask her how she came to know about the green monster. 

She put on her favorite pair of jeans along with a pink sweatshirt, and quickly combed her hair. She grabbed her backpack on her way out of her room and dashed downstairs to the kitchen. Her mother was removing freshly baked muffins from a pan and placing them on a plate.

“Hi mom,” Sara said as she grabbed a muffin from the plate and walked to the front door. 

“You seem in a hurry to leave for school today,” Sara’s mother said.

“No, not really,” Sara lied. She did not like lying to her mother but this was not the time to tell her about last night and her suspicions. Her mother would freak out if she found out that Sara had gone trick-or-treating with a complete stranger, let alone a real monster. Her mother thought that in the end, Sara had gone out with Emma, the girl who lived next door, and Sara had not bothered to correct her. She did not want to worry her. After all, she had come home in one piece. 

“Well, if you don’t have time to wait for me to make your lunch, grab some money from the jar.”

Sara kissed her Mom goodbye and pocketed a handful of coins before heading out the door.

She ran to the end of her street and waited impatiently for Joey. They usually walked the two blocks to school together.  After what seemed like hours, Joey showed up.

“Hope you’re still not upset about last night,” Sara said as she hurried along the pavement.

“Of course not!” Joey said, speeding up his pace to catch up to Sara. “You thought it was me, how could you know you were walking with some prankster. I bet you it was Peter from our class, he’s always pulling stunts like that. Or maybe….”

“I have to tell you something, ” Sara interrupted. But she hesitated to tell him about her suspicions. Last night, after Sara had told Joey that she thought the green monster existed,  Joey hadfallen to the floor and had laughed uncontrollably for five minutes. When he was done, he said something that insulted Sara more then she let on. “You’re such a girl,” he had said with a final guffaw escaping from his mouth. So she had pretended to agree with him to avoid further insults. But now, it was time to tell him how she really felt.

“Joey,” Sara began slowly, “I’m not so sure it was a prankster.” She turned to look at his reaction, but before he could say anything, or worse, laugh at her, Sara quickly went on.

“His eyes were green but there was red all over like I’ve never seen before, Joey. And his skin felt strangely warm and moist. No costume or make-up can feel and look that real!”

“Haven’t you seen Mrs. Doubtfire, or Star Wars?” Joey asked, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t understand, his eyes moved! Moved like yours and mine do. So it couldn’t have been a mask. And I didn’t notice this last night, it actually came to me in bed while I was dozing off, but he had this funny smell. Now why would someone make themselves smell different? Explain that Joey.”

“Dunno,” Joey said, a baffled look on his face. Sara was beginning to give him the jitters. 

“I’m going to talk to Mrs. Blain today, about her monster story,” Sara said.
 
“What for?”

“I just want to know where she got if from.”

“Just make sure none of the other kids hear you,” Joey said. He could tell how serious Sara was about this. “You’ll be the biggest joke of the school year and so will I, for being your friend.”

“I’ll do it when no one is around.”

When they got to school, Sara noticed unusual commotion in the section adjacent to the school yard, where the teachers usually went to get some fresh air or for a coffee break. The principal seemed to be saying something very important as all the teachers where listening intently, then talking animatedly amongst themselves.  Sara was too far, and the kids in the yard were making too much noise for Sara to hear any of it. She made a quick mental note to learn how to read lips. She was about to approach the teachers to see if she could speak with Mrs. Blain when the bell rang.

Once seated in her classroom, Sara waited for Mrs. Blain to arrive. Instead, principal Thompson appeared with a tall, old-looking woman.

“Attention class!” principal Thompson said loudly.

When the kids quieted down, he continued.

“Mrs. Blain has…,” principal Thompson began. He wasn’t his usual calm, assured self.  He cleared his throat and started again. “This here is Mrs. May Johnson. She is a substitute teacher and will be taking over Mrs. Blain’s class for an…uhm… indefinite time. She has lots of experience with the third grade and I expect you all to give her your attention and respect.”

Sara’s hand shot up.

“Yes Sara?” principal Thompson asked.

“Is Mrs. Blain ill?”

“The reason for her absence is not something I’m at liberty to share with you,” principal Thompson replied in a rehearsed sort of manner. “But rest assured that you are in good hands. Mrs. Johnson was a beloved teacher for many years at Valegardens and has temporarily come out of retirement to help us out.”
 
Was it Sara’s imagination or did principal Thompson completely avoid answering her question? She also noticed how tired and disheveled he looked with his hair sticking out at weird angles and his tie, at only 9 a.m., was already coming loose. Something was definitely up.

When the principal left , Mrs. Johnson sat on the corner of the desk and addressed the students.

“Whenever I substitute I always like to ask the students a little bit about their teacher. It makes it easier for me to take over if I know something about their teacher’s habits. Does anyone have anything to say about her? Yes, you at the back?”

Everyone turned to look at who Mrs. Johnson was talking to. It was Christopher, the class clown. Even before he said anything, some of the kids had started to giggle.

“Mrs. Blain didn’t like to eat chicken!” Christopher said very seriously.

And just as Christopher had planned, everyone burst out laughing, except for two people.  Mrs. Johnson, still perched on the corner of the desk,  was clearly not amused, and Sara, although she did think it was rather funny, was more spooked than anything at the realization that Mrs. Blain, only yesterday, had told them how the green monster hated the taste of chicken!

TO BE CONTINUED…..

"Sara And The Green Monster " Copyright © 2007 by Emoke
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