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The Teacher With the Long Fingernail
Like moths, the children went to the light.
“Welcome, welcome, glad you’re here, come in,” the woman said as they filed past and joined the other kids in her class
“I’m sorry I don’t have enough desks, but we’ll make do. Please find a place on the floor for now.”
The children did as they were told. They felt safe, even if a bit uncomfortable. They could no longer feel the school shake, or hear the kachooga boops.
“Miss Zarves,” said Mrs. Jewls. “It’s so good to see you! How long has it been?”
“Feels like forever,” said Miss Zarves.
“I never bump into you in the teachers’ lounge,” said Mrs. Jewls. “We must just keep missing each other.”
“I try not to bump into people,” said Miss Zarves.
Miss Zarves was tall and thin. Her skirt and blouse were neat and trim. Her short hair looked shiny and silky, and smelled like strawberry shampoo. Everything about her was neat and orderly, except for that one fingernail.
“And how’s Mavis?” asked Miss Zarves.
Mavis was Mrs. Jewls’s daughter.
“Adorable,” said Mrs. Jewls. “But they grow up so fast, don’t they?”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Miss Zarves.
“You don’t look like you’ve aged a day,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“Very nice of you to say,” said Miss Zarves.
Mrs. Jewls wasn’t just being nice. Miss Zarves hadn’t changed one bit—except for her fingernail, of course, which had grown considerably longer.
Calvin walked between the two teachers. “Excuse me, Miss Zarves,” he said. “I think I’m supposed to give you this.”
He handed Miss Zarves a folded piece of paper that was so old, it tore as Miss Zarves unfolded it. She strained to read the faded writing.
“Oh, okay,” she said to Mrs. Jewls, then dropped the note in the trash.
“Is that the note I gave you to give Miss Zarves?” Mrs. Jewls asked Calvin.
Calvin shrugged. “I just found it in my pocket,” he said, sounding even more surprised than Mrs. Jewls.
Mrs. Jewls stared at him. “You told me you gave it to her,” she accused.
“I don’t think I ever said that,” said Calvin.
Mrs. Jewls continued to stare as he returned to his seat on the floor.
“We were just about to have our history review,” said Miss Zarves. “Who’s your best history student?”
“Myron,” Mrs. Jewls answered, without hesitation.
Myron had gotten the highest score on the history portion of the Ultimate Test.
“Myron, stand up, please,” said Miss Zarves.
He stood.
