Week 4 - Bad Day
The day had begun like any other day. The sun had risen in the east and there was no indication that this day would turn out to be as nerve wreaking as it had turned out to be. Max stood in the shadow of the school building and took a long drag. The smoke usually clears his head. But today it seems to do just what it was meant to, sting his eyes and cloud his vision.
Standing there, Max thought over what he could have done that might have angered the gods. Perhaps his pluralistic view might have angered his monotheistic god. It was a Catholic school anyway. Max stood alone in the shadow thinking, hoping someone might turn the corner. Beating someone up would definitely help vent his anger. But with his luck today, he’ll be lucky no teacher accidentally turn up. Furthermore, everyone knew he was in a particularly acrid mood today and they would avoid his usual haunt.
Max turned up in school today only to be immediately called into the principal’s office. Apparently, the parents of a new transfer student had concerns that Max was enrolled here. The issue was not with Max himself, it was more with Max’s father. It was the family business that really got the parents riled. Max was the son of an underworld triad family. Father Festerious had assured the parents in the room that Max was quite harmless and there had been no incidents in the school in the past seven years that Max had gone there.
Max tried to plaster his most patronising smile onto his face while forcing himself to forget the name of the new transfer student. It was Miles Pantalube, or something along those lines. The parents left the office while Max had to stay behind to reaffirm his promise that school matters will never progress into family matters.
Max left the office only to find that class had started. Walking into class late was not the norm for Max. In school, it was as low a profile as possible, turning up late was just unwanted attention. Walking in late into Mr. Snapdragon’s class was not just unwanted attention, it was near suicide.
If walking in late was not sufficient, Snapdragon had surprised the class with a quiz. Snapdragon was less than elated on seeing Max. Snapdragon passed a remark regarding how fortunate that the class had been to be graced with Max’s presence, though no extra time would be given to Max for the test. At least that was the last thing Snapdragon said, the test took the rest of the period, giving Max an unexpected relief.
Seated in the usual corner of the canteen, Max idled with the food in front of him while a group of six gathered around him. Looking up, Max was surprised that the popular kids had gathered around.
“Sorry, I don’t have what you want today.” Max’s statement was as inviting as the food he was rolling around in the plate in front of him.
“We are not after the usual favours today. Today, we want you to take care of the new kid.” There was a cold emphasis on the words take care.
“I don’t do hits, especially on this kid. I promised Fester.”
“Fine, but don’t blame us for the consequences of your refusal.”
Max thought hard and long, he could not remember the last time that the Populars had to dirty their hands. Though the last time they did, they were quite ruthless. Pent up anger had a bad way of exploding out of the tiniest of outlets.
Lunch soon passed and a monotonous announcement floated through the hallways of the school. Max was summoned to Festerious’ office once more. Max had a bad feeling that he was going to be blamed for the Populars’ reckless actions. The son of the triad was not raised as a snitch. Accepting blame might be a better choice than not to. Festerious could only do much to him anyway.
In the office, the Pantalubes were gathered. Miles’ face was pale, with red rubies encrusted around his nostrils. His white uniform and tie was stained in the same ruby colour. Seeing Max, Miles’ face turned an awful shade of purple.
“That’s him! He did this to me!” Miles’ shouted and pointed wildly, with an almost practiced feel.
Max stared nonchalantly at Miles which caused Miles’ crusted rubies started to flow again. The new flow drained the purple shade from his face and Miles deflated along with the colour. Festerious requested the Pantalubes to leave, an invitation that the Pantalubes took at once. Before the door could close fully, an expletive-laden chide could be heard bubbling up in Mrs. Pantalube.
“I know you didn’t do it. Your admittance makes matters,” Festerious paused before finishing dramatically, “complicated.” Festerious was less than charming when he tried to suppress his anger.
Ejected form Festerious’ office, Max found himself behind the school with a cigarette in his hand. Max knows that the Pantalubes would not press the matter any further, but Festerious’ was a different matter. He knew that Festerious had to carry out a punishment. Waiting for a verdict was no way to spend a sunny afternoon. Max was unusually affected. Max could not remember the last time he got into trouble. The words ‘low profile’ kept ringing in his head.
Ditching the cigarette, Max turned to return to class. Turing the corner, Festerious was there. Max’s fortune seems to have turned. Bad news beats being caught with a cigarette.
“Pantalube retracted.” That was all Festerious said before turning away.
The sun was starting to set in the west, maybe everything was normal.
Labels: written in prose
