Part III
Language arts was pretty bad, but nothing compared to math. "SSR, class!" shrieked Ms. Hinker. "I must go in the supply closet and, er, organize. I'll shut the door so the dust won't get you. It's a powerful thing dust! It'll get to your brain. . . "
"And it shows on you." muttered Abel. But she didn't hear him. She was already walking into the supply closet and closing the door.
No one knew what was inside, not even sneaky Kangel. Once Tish went inside to ask about a "hard word" [pixies]. But, the lights were off, and before she got to the switch, Ms. Hinkle was giving her PS74 s in multiples of 100, and all her grades so far were Fs. Except on her report card. We had a certain truce with the teachers: they gave us good report cards, we breathed not a word of their torturing us. So everyone propped up textbooks and talked behind them, slowly edging towards the red carpet area. There were multiple couches and puffy pillows, so everyone finally settled down and got comfortable. Then we had our meeting. Children from other classes slowly trickled in. It would soon be Time.
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