Life Lessons

Another town and another school; I should be used to it by now. I wondered how long I would be staying this time, hopefully long enough to make some friends. Let me introduce myself. My name is Joel Hershey (at least, it is this week). I looked at the brick facade, a carbon copy of my previous four schools, if somewhat smaller. The kids were also similar except, well, they looked scared. Not shit-your-pants as you face the monster scared, more dad-will-kill-me scared.

They looked a neat bunch; no leathers, nor t-shirts with obscene messages, and no underwear on show. For once the shirt and tie Mom insisted on didn't look out of place. The boys all had military short haircuts, the girls wore their hair tied back. I thought for a moment I had strayed into a private school by mistake.

The bell sounded and that rabbit-in-the-headlights look crossed their young faces as they ran for the entrance. A senior stood by the door with a stop watch; I guess tardiness was not acceptable, so I rushed after the throng.
"Just made it," said the guy, pushing the button on the stop watch.

"I'm new here; where do I report?" I asked. He nodded to a reception desk where an elderly lady, with her gray hair in a tight bun, was ticking off items on a clip board. I headed over and was greeted with a wide, toothless grin. Without a word a form and a pen were handed to me. I took a nearby seat and looked at the questions. Most were as you would expect, but why did they want to know my height and weight?

I was handed a timetable and a plan of the school. "You'd better hurry, the bell is about to go. You really don't want to be late to class," she said with a smirk. I rushed to the math lesson, in room 5, to find my classmates lined up outside the door. As the bell sounded, the door was opened by a middle aged man with glasses.

"Enter." The kids filed in without a sound and stood behind their desks.

"I'm new," I said, nervously. He pointed to an empty desk in the second row. I hurried to my designated spot and stood to attention like the others.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," the teacher said.

"Good morning, Sir," the students said in unison, before taking their seats without the usual scraping of chairs. Books, pens, math instruments, appeared on desk tops with precision. I looked around the room at my fellow students.

"Eyes front, boy." I turned my attention to the white board and the math question requiring an answer. It was pretty advanced stuff but I knuckled down to try and solve it. The silence in the room was deafening. I was used to at least one disruptive influence within the class. These kids were just too good to be true. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"Lunch, ladies and gentlemen," the teacher announced. Equipment was quietly stashed, and the class rose noiselessly and filed out, row by row. I waited my turn, then followed the boy next to me as the group snaked through the hallways and into the canteen. I took my tray and followed the crowd around the counter. Where were the burgers, the meat pies; options were salad, vegetable stir fry, and a sort of meatloaf without meat.

"Do they only do vegetarian then?" I asked the boy in front.

"Oh, we have meat occasionally. It depends ..." He didn't explain the latter. I sat next to him and he introduced himself as Jim Jones.

"Er… Joel Hershey, pleased to meet you. Say, what's with this place. Why is everyone so ... well behaved?" He didn't answer, he just shrugged. I ate my egg salad in silence until the bell sounded for the next class. Science, room two, according to the timetable. I followed Jim, presuming he was in the same class. I was expecting a laboratory but it was a normal classroom except for the posters on the wall: the human body, the periodic table, a dissection of a frog and the planets of the solar system. The students stood in groups around the posters, taking copious notes before moving to the next station.

It was close to home time when, out of nowhere, this kid suddenly picked up his chair and threw it across the room with an exasperated scream.
"Turner, you're in detention." The boy stared at the teacher in defiance.

"Fuck you." From out of nowhere, two large men appeared and grabbed the lad. He struggled to free himself, but he didn't stand a chance. He was dragged from the room and off to lord knows where. My fellow students did not seem to notice the event, like it was nothing unusual.

At lunch the next day, I was surprised to see meat on the menu; steaks, pies, burgers, stew. I sat next to Jim as we tucked into the meatfest.
"Turner thought he was a real tough guy," Jim said, "but he's actually quite tender."

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