The Scarlet Sweater

3. The Deceit and the Discovery

Upon returning to class the next day, she sat down in her spot and the chair creaked (because they were old as sin and for some reason Mr. Bausch was 200 years old). Mr Bausch shuffled to the front of the room. “Upload your essays to Google Drive,” said he.

“Aren’t you going to say please?” another student asked.

“NO!” Mr. Bausch replied, much too hastily. “Saying please is something I don’t have to do because...because…” His train of thought strayed from the explanation at hand and his gaze drifted slightly downward, as to symbolize he left this world behind. The students began uploading their assignments to Google Drive for grading, but Jeni hesitated. She didn’t know whether or not all of the “work” she had done would get a passing grade.

Brushing the thought off, she uploaded her six page essay to Drive. She leaned back in her chair and the structure broke under her. She clattered to the floor and Mr. Bausch’s train of thought regained its track.

“Because I...uh, I don’t know.” He finished, and turned his attention to Jeni. “Ms. Hestersee, why must you squat on the floor? It’s not becoming.”

“Sorry, sir,” Jeni said, “It’s just that these chairs are as old as you, and they don’t hold up very well. You may want to invest in some new ones.”

“NEW ONES?” Mr. Bausch exclaimed. “Why, I haven’t heard anything so ludicrous since the Yankees took over Atlanta! This is hogwash!”

“Just thought I’d ask…” Jeni said, but she was cut off yet again.

“Ms. Hestersee, as you were being so indignant towards me, how about we read your essay first?” Mr. Bausch said menacingly. Jeni gulped. She didn’t wish to be discovered so soon after she had “written” her essay. Fear engulfed her mind. Soon, everything was white. She was going to find out what the Wrath of Bausch was really like. He took his time to click on Google Chrome and figure out where Drive was. When he finally navigated to Jeni’s assignment, half the class was already out the door. The bell had rung, but the girl was the hostage of a crime she had readily committed.

Mr. Bausch squinted, and with great care, began the read the essay. The next class was already filling in, so Jeni’s embarrassment was all the more fleeting. When he got done he looked over at her with a sagging, yet disdainful look. Jeni gulped again. She knew she was in for it.

“Ms. Hestersee,” he began. “It seems to me that you have copied this from another site.”

“But, but, but…” Jeni stuttered.

“Don’t go throwing your but’s at me,” Mr. Bausch said. “I know full well you have committed the heinous act of…” he waited a subtle amount of time for the word to take its sting. “...PLAGIARISM!”

The other students gasped. Never before had such an act taken place (Well, there was that one time, but that student had never been seen again [some said he was locked in the basement of the school, where a rather large goblin was watching over him, taking a small spoonful out of his stomach every so often]). Eyes agape, Jeni was grabbed at the forearm and dragged to the office, where she was forced to sit in council with Mr. Schwartz.