The Sun, The Moon, and Their Stars

10 : Fool

September 2004

Kimberly

There's nothing special about this morning. The routine is the same. And nothing seems out of the ordinary.

Then I taught Erick the solution to the algebra question in the exercises after he saw my work and asked how I got my answer. But it's weird at first because he didn't seem to blank out on the lesson earlier, he even got the other items correctly. I saw them when I caught a glimpse of his hieroglyphic notes. I asked him why he's asking me for help when it looked like he doesn't need one, but he just hunched forward and looked away.

Erick is one of the nice guys around here. He's relatively short and slightly dark. He's timid and doesn't seem to belong to any social circle. That means he's also vulnerable and has been a target of the bullies. I guess we share something in common.

After the first period in the morning, we have what they call the Individual Work Period. It's the time when we do assignments on our subjects for the rest of the day, or do advance readings, or prepare for tests, or do research inside the library. It's also known as Quiet Time, for we're supposed to work individually. But, of course, we always find ways to maintain quiet while not being silent.

I finish all the assigned work and submit them to the respective subject coordinators. Then the bell that signals the end of this period and the start of morning recess jolts the room back to life. My classmates start walking out as noisily as they usually do.

I don't normally go out of the room for recess because the canteen is a long way down and going to and from it already takes time out of the twenty minutes allotted. Also, I don't want to hurt my already thin allowance, so I can save some money for when I see an interesting book at that secondhand bookstore that I'm fond of visiting in the mall. Besides, I always eat a full breakfast at home, so what's the point?

Just as the last person leaves the room and there are at least ten people left inside, Benjamin stands next to my chair and gives me his assignment for English class. I glance at the clock above the chalkboard because, technically, his submission is already late.

"Come on, Kim, it's just two minutes." And he sounds like he's seriously begging.

I receive his work and place it on top of the others because I'm not that evil. As I do so, I notice his unkempt handwriting, but his hand blocks me from further reading what he wrote for the essay.

"Please, don't read it," he says.

He slowly lifts his hand. And I put his paper in the middle of the stack that the rest of the class submitted. I'm tasked to give them to Sir Archie right before lunch as the class' English coordinator.

"There," I say. "Happy now?"

"Thanks," Benjamin says with that beaming smile.

He hasn't left yet from where he stands when a figure storms inside the classroom and hurries over to my side, passing him like a whiff of wind.

"Kim," Darlynne breathlessly says. "I need to talk to you."

She looks both different and the same. She's wearing one layer thicker of face powder compared to when we were friends and a blush that's a shade too dark for her. She also puts on dark eyeliner now. And she's changed her perfume from a sweet flowery smell to this chemical scent that she must have sprayed all over her every five minutes. It's so strong, you can probably smell it from ten meters away. But she's the same petite girl with that melodic voice, her super straight hair falling lightly on her shoulders as in the olden days, and with that apologetic look on her face that she's giving me right now.

"Oh-kay."

I insert the assignment papers in between the pages of my English textbook and carefully leave them on my chair, beneath my bag, so they won't scatter when the fan hits this direction.

Then I follow her outside. So, this morning is a bit special, after all.

She doesn't say a word while we walk through the Grade Six corridor, all the way to the end, and in front of the girls' restroom. It's the creepy old one with an urban legend that a ghost lives inside the last cubicle. Also, the door of this said restroom only opens from the outside, that for some reason, the administration hasn't fixed yet.

She leads me in front of the aforementioned cubicle. And I think what she's about to tell me is so private that we have to be very far from earshot and view of our batchmates.

"Wait," she says. "Stay here. I have to make sure no one else is around."

I stay put.

But when she comes back, it's the opposite of what she said.

Regina is here. And her glare is sending chills to my spine. The now-healed scar from last year's 'accident' feels like a hundred needles are touching it at once.

This is not good.

I am so stupid.

Darlynne pushes me further inside the cubicle. At the same time, Regina carefully closes the door. And I hear other voices from outside, telling the others to 'hurry' and 'block it.'

I try pushing the cubicle door, but a heavy-weighted object that they obviously orchestrated to be placed there prevents me from escaping. Then I hear the door of the restroom slam shut.

Silence follows.

The bell rings.

I am so stupid.

I punch the door and make the loudest noise I can produce to create attention. I even try to shout, but my voice cracks. I try again, and only a pathetic squeal comes out of my throat.

I push the door again and pound on it for I don't know how long. Time is relative when you're inside a small space that may or may not be haunted.

My palms are now red, and cold sweat starts forming on my forehead and neck.

I am not going to cry. I am not going to cry. I am not going to cry.

After what felt like forty-five years of surrender and waiting, I hear sounds coming from the door of the restroom.

Somebody finally opens it.

I immediately come to my senses and start pounding on the door.

"Help! Please! I'm trapped here!"

The person on the other end pulls the weight that's blocking the cubicle door. As soon as its opening is enough to let me out, I hastily make my way and try to breathe deep breaths to relax.

The tall janitress who rescued me moves the two large drums of water further from the end cubicle while she studies my face. I politely ask her the time, and I realize I still have fifteen minutes before the next class. I take the time to relax and splash some water on my face to freshen up.

Then I notice that she's checking out my ID, so I flip it over to hide my name.

"Please don't tell anyone about this," I say. "This did not happen. Please."

She only nods at me. And she continues mopping the already tidy floor.

*

When I get back to the classroom, it's as if nothing happened earlier.

I survive in Physics. I have notes from start to end.

I fulfill my duty by giving Sir Archie our assignments.

Lawrence and I line up at the canteen, and we eat our lunch. Then we go back to our classrooms after.

I ignore the nasty looks from Mary Elizabeth and her friends, who are in one corner of our classroom, chatting about whatever it is they find amusing.

I leave the room to spend the rest of the lunch break inside the library.

I run my hand across the spines of old books on the beginners' shelf and settle on a random one. I sit on the nearest available chair and open a page just so I can smell the scent of its age. I don't even bother looking at the title or reading what's inside it. I just inhale the pages as I wait for the librarian to ring their bell and signal the end of this break.