Watch Your Step

Backpack II

"I took this janitor job at the elementary school. Oh! I shouldn't tell you the name if this is being recorded for legal purposes."

"Suit yourself," The policeman said impatiently.

"I had some good memories of it," Merlon looked up, reminiscing. "The door I always passed by that says welcome. The teachers, the gorgeous Miss Ann, the kids running on the playground, the little school itself. I grew fond of this particular section in Grade 3, Miss Ann's advisory class. And because it was near my quarters, where I get my cleaning materials.

Whenever I'm on a break, eating my lunch, or resting, I would watch the kids in that section. Those cute kids call me Mr. Melon, you know because they can't properly pronounce the 'r.'" Merlon fixed his seat and proceeded, "Sometimes, you might feel there's something wrong with kids. If you're not used to being around them for too long, you'll get weirded out by them. But that's normal. Kids are treasures of potential, we owe them their future for bringing them into this world."

"Get to the chase," the policeman grunted.

"I, I have my favorites," he held his hand up and counted, "Camille, who always trips. Jeff, who pranks his classmates. George, who always sneezes." He giggled, looking at the empty table. "Cristopher, who practically eats anything. Troy, who wants to be a basketball player but is an evident womanizer when he grows up. Vincent, who wants to be a sailor but puts his classmate's hair in his mouth. And there's Jim."

He put both of his hands on the table. "They say it's always the quiet ones that give you those..." he shivered.

"Heebie jeebies?" The policeman suggested.

"Yeah, but this one really gave me the chills even from the start."

"Many mysteries pop up in this school." Merlon held up his fingers again. "A wall that's growing hairs, that one's solve, they call it pubic wall. Apparently, one student likes sticking his ball hairs on one part of a bathroom wall.

The Mirror Kisser. Every school has one girl who kisses the mirror. One solution is to dip a mop in a toilet bowl and use it to wipe the mirror, let all the girls know, and voila! problem solved!

It goes on. The missing chalks and the armchair pyramid, they were all solvable.

But why does this one kid, Jimmy Adams, doesn't bring a bag?

I made that conspiracy on my own. But little did I know that I was in for an unholy evil ride.

This seemed to pique the interest of the policeman as he sat closer to Merlon.

"Jim has pale skin, and big blue eyes, and he was smaller than most kids. You'd know from the start that he's different. I remember when they were asked to draw chickens in class, his chickens had no heads. You can say he has a dark — sorry — rich imagination."

"That so."

"Yeah, like Picasso."

"Who's that?"

"Never mind. One more thing, you can't hear his footsteps. He liked to sneak up on me. I found it funny of course and played with it because he's a child. And I loved those children.

What I liked about this kid at the start of the year was he always had something for each of his classmates. Nothing seemed weird about that. I myself brought something at school to show and tell when I was a kid.

At first, he gave Camille a Barbie doll, not just a regular doll but a brand-new doll that blinks its eyelids.

"That's nice," I said but I speculated if it had been stolen because I'm sure it was expensive.

Maybe he's rich, I pondered as he gave his classmates many gifts. Giving them gifts, like Santa Claus, which seemed to be what they wanted the most.

He gave a box of tissue dispensers with googly eyes to George. A ball for Troy that would soon be exploding with horrors. So as the chocolate bars he gave to Christopher. Then he gave Vincent a miniature golden ship, but it's huge, I say about a foot tall. The most intriguing thing about this is where did he get those? I got curious. I didn't know where he pulled it, it just appeared out of nowhere.

Aside from he hasn't brought a bag since day one. It was as if he pulled those items right under his shirt!

When he gave Miss Ann a pencil sharpener, the one where you turn a lever and... "

"I know what it is."

"It's quite sizeable, right? But there was no sign of a bump or shape under Jim's shirt. When I came to think of it, I didn't see any sign of where those things should've come from except his back. It was as though he had something magical around there. A magic hat? A magic backpack?

I thought he just adjusted, you know he was a shy kid and it's his way of making his classmates like him. When many people like you, your ego will rise. I thought it was about it.

Everything about that kid eventually turned weird and creepy over the succeeding days. His smile, smiling without moving his glaring blue eyes. Did I tell you he's small? I did? But he has this manipulative aura like he can order anyone around, even me.

"At recess, it was their playtime, most of the time I'm a janitor and sometimes I'm their nanny." Merlon chuckled again and made a sound like he was breathing through his teeth. "He wore a regular t-shirt, newly bought I guessed, because it still had a price tag on it. He ran towards me, and I saw his back was wet. I plucked the tag and he let me wipe a towel under his shirt. But no, it was like I was volunteering to do it. My hands mindlessly moved by themselves. Even so, I had this curiosity to lift his shirt and see what's underneath but if anyone would see they'd think I'm a pedo.

So I inserted the towel in his shirt without pulling it up. But as I smoothed it down, I felt something now. Maybe a lump, but I tried to feel it again and it was gone. I tried to put it off my mind but I couldn't!

Little did I know that something was moving in there. I ain't gone to school but I have a strong imagination. I imagined maybe it's wings, a vault on his back, or completely something else. I didn't know if the other teachers were suspicious of him too.

When I spoke to their adviser, Miss Ann, she seemed to be out of it.

"Every kid is special," she said, "Kids have idiosyncrasies that fascinate even the old."

I wanted to discuss him in particular as I was the only one who might be worrying about something that I didn't know at that time. It was still just a hunch.

"What do you think about Jim?"

"Hm, he rarely speaks in class but he's very generous. Did he give you something too? "

"No, Miss Ann."

"Oh, then I guess you're already friends because I think he gives those things to his classmates to make friends with them."

"I think so too."

"In a flock of children, he just blends in, so I wouldn't be worried about him."

"I'm glad to hear that."

I may have seemed worried about him. Though I started to believe that there was nothing wrong with him. In a way, I saw myself in him when I was a kid. Everyone wants to be viewed as the goody-two-shoes. But this was a kid we're talking about so maybe it's just his way of making friends just like I did. Nothing seemed wrong at all. Then he started to stink.