Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Oh, Really?

Mark, his book bag slung over both his shoulders, walked into the classroom, stopping at Professor Eden's desk. He surveyed the other students - 3 fat girls, a black dude who was half-asleep, and a white guy with a lazy eye - and stretched his arms out wide. "Where is everybody?"

"This is it," said Professor Eden.

Mark nodded. "You must be tough."

Professor Eden giggled, her slight breasts shaking under her lilac blouse. Her cheeks reddened. "Yeah, right. Tell my department chair that."

"So where is everybody?"

"Honestly, our enrollment has dropped substantially since the murders began-"

"The murders?"

"Yes, the unsolved murders of the past 4 or 5 years-"

"Oh." Mark watched the other students shuffle in their seats, then turned back to Professor Eden. She was already looking in his eyes. "So what, do you think somebody's offing your students?"

"No," laughed the professor. Her voice became a whisper and Mark had to bend down to her to hear her. He could smell her breath - toothpaste and coffee - and could hear her plump ass adjusting itself against the plastic of her chair as she leaned up towards him. "Nobody wants to come to Cedarville CC anymore because they're afraid."

"Ah." Mark nodded again. "I'm afraid too." He smiled and raised his eyebrows, then looked into his teacher's cleavage before meeting her eyes again.

"You shouldn't be," she said, her cheeks filling with blood again. "My honey'll get him."

"Huh?"

"My boyfriend-"

"You have a boyfriend?"

"Yes-"

"Oh-" Mark stood up and dropped his book bag from his shoulders.

"He's on the Cedarville Task Force-"

"A cop?"

"Yep! He was on the SWAT team - the other members called him "The Assassinator" - but he just got promoted to the Criminal Investigations Department, Cold Case Division." Professor Eden's chocolate brown eyes reflected the light from the fluorescent light-bulbs overhead into Mark's eyes, slackening his semi. "He's actually the lead investigator on the unsolved murders-"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. I have no doubt that he'll catch the guy-"

"So it's the same guy - and only one guy - that's done all these?"

"That's what my honey thinks. He says he's getting closer every day-"

Mark took in an unnoticeable deep breath through his small, turned-up nose and let it out just as imperceptibly through his teeth. He returned the professor's wide, shit-eating grin. "Well, that's great! I hope he gets caught then!" He plopped his book bag under an empty chair-desk in the front row, then returned to Professor Eden's desk as she was rising to begin class. "You want a coffee?"

"Huh?"

"Coffee. I'm going to get myself a coffee from the machine in the hallway real quick. Do you want one?"

"Sure." Professor Eden grabbed her purse and fished out several coins. "Just cream please. Thanks."

Mark grabbed another handful of coins from his jeans pocket and snapped his elbows with short, rapid punches as he made his way to the coffee machine. When the last drop of cream fell from the dispenser, he grabbed Professor Eden's coffee with his free hand, then made his way to the men's room, the head of his hard-on soaked in pre-cum and needing only a few quick jerks to deposit a full load of his semen into his favorite professor's second coffee of the morning.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Piss poxed lemonade, cum corrupted coffee ... Mark should set up a stand on the side of the road, selling cups of each for 25 cents a pop.
-Danée Raulée

Anonymous said...

This story could use a little more zing ... no, make that Ning!
-concerned inner-city high school student, Los Angeles, CA.

Anonymous said...

What kind of gun does the Assassinator have? Something long, thick, and black? Mark will love it.

Anonymous said...

Gang bangers shot a student yesterday while he was walking through our school parking lot after classes had ended on my campus for the day. This is a teacher’s perspective, a point of view that comes from a person who had just left that very same parking lot not 5 minutes (literally) prior to the gunfire.

And as the cliché goes, we all know that bullets when they leave the barrel of a gun have no name.

I am sad but not dispirited. I am hurt but refuse to be jaded. I am concerned but not fearful because giving into my fears is the means by which everything I aspire to do with my life, career, work and goals will be undermined. If educators such as myself buckle and cave in to the terror an event like this most absolutely causes then every objective that I as an individual and we, as a society, purport to hold dear is at risk. I can’t give in to the fright because if I do, the “bad guys” most certainly win.

Now more than ever, we need the “good guys” like me. We need our teachers.

Anonymous said...

One of the things this conversation has made me think about is my childhood and upbringing. I've thought about my teachers and fellow students. I grew up in central PA on the west shore of the Susquehanna. I never knew a day of fear in my life. At least, not a fear of being shot or approached by gang members. Now the east shore, that was another thing. But what I've really been thinking about is this: Weren't there probably problems that I just wasn't aware of? Maybe not shootings, but I'm sure there were students who slipped through the cracks. In an environment like the one I grew up in, these kids went unnoticed. I'm not saying there weren't teachers that tried to help those struggling students, but what I am saying is that I would have been completely unprepared for any of the dangers some students have faced. And maybe everyone is unprepared. But shouldn't we at least have some idea of what is happening outside of our little bubble? Shouldn't we try to instill compassion for our fellow beings in ourselves and our students? It is so much easier to turn a blind eye. I applaud you, Gaelan, for asking us to face the facts and take responsibility. And I applaud you, Mark, for realizing your potential, recognizing your choices, and making the right decisions. I really do believe that it is up to all adults to try to set good examples for the younger generation. I am a teacher. It is the possibility of doing good for just one student that inspires me the most. So I try to set a good example for every younger person I have contact with. Because you are right, until they know that there is another option, there is no choice.

Anonymous said...

I bet this detective can run pretty fast. Mark watch out dawg. Michael Phelps - Baltimore MD