DWP - the teacher: prompt

The Teacher

None of us knew Fallore’s first name. In high school, we were called and known by our last names. Maybe because he was older than us, by a few hundred years, that we just ignored him and didn’t pay attention to him. Even Fallore himself couldn’t blame anyone for doing so: he was very talkative, always making fun of anything or anyone. And he was loud. Although he was smart, he was nonetheless disruptive.

Now, everyone knew Fallore had a big crush on the science teacher, Miss Lumba, a short, skinny woman, with bronze skin and beautiful big round eyes and short cropped hair. On the first day of our class, Fallore let out a loud whistle. Miss Lumba frowned, clearly not appreciating Fallore’s whistling. She immediately called the class roll and marked Fallore’s name in her attendance book. The next several weeks, Fallore had been sent by Miss Lumba to the Principal’s office for his disruptive behaviour. For example:

Miss Lumba: “What is the symbol for hydrogen?”

Fallore: “Ma’am! Ma’am!”

Miss Lumba tried to ignore Fallore, and scanned the whole classroom hoping another student would volunteer to answer. But when none of the other students did, and Fallore’s hand remained raised, she called Fallore.

Fallore: “The symbol for hydrogen is this”

And he made the shape of a heart with his hands and putting them over his left chest.

Miss: Lumba: “Seriously, Fallore. Stop wasting my time. Now answer the question.”

Whereupon Fallore insisted on his answer.

One day, Fallore was absent from class and for the first time that year, Miss Lumba came to our classroom smiling. Everyone clapped and cheered and you could see Miss Lumba’s relief that for once she would not have to deal with Fallore. She had closed and locked the classroom door and delivered her lecture. It was a productive class.

But when Fallore returned the next day, he interrupted Miss Lumba three times to tell her he missed her and asked if she missed him, too. Miss Lumba tried so hard to ignore Fallore. During her lecture though, Fallore continued to talk non-sense with the other boys who also did not care to listen. In the middle of Miss Lumba’s explanation, she made a pause and quickly threw a whole chalk stick before continuing. Fallore caught the chalk stick and kissed it. The class roared. Miss Lumba got very mad that she ordered us to take a sheet of paper and gave us an instant exam by making us explain the process of how water from the sewer can be distilled into clean drinking water.

During the exam, however, Fallore continued to talk loudly, vocalizing his answers as he wrote them. Miss Lumba had enough. In a swift instance, the board eraser which she had just used to clean three full blackboards, flew straight into Fallore’s face, just as he was looking up to ask the boy in front of him a question. His face was all white and some chalk dusts went into his eyes. He stood up and became disoriented. Miss Lumba’s face paled and you could see the concern in her eyes at what she did despite sporting a really stern face.

The class was suddenly in chaos: some were screaming and others tried to cheat with their exam. Then there was a loud thud on the floor. Fallore fell, his back flat on the concrete floor. Some of the students crowded around him.

“He’s not breathing, is he?”

“I don’t know, but I think he’s dead.”

“Don’t believe that stupid boy,” said one of the girls.

But Fallore lay still.

Someone went to call the security guard who quickly came up to the classroom followed by the Principal and the head of the Physical Education department in tow. The students were asked to stand back. Fallore was not aware of this and unfortunately this was the moment he chose to open his eyes, and pointed towards the doorway.

“Look! A nipple,” he screamed. He looked like a mime with all the chalk dust on his face.

Everyone laughed, and at the same time looked out to see where the “nipple” was. Our classroom was on the second floor of the building and the hallways faced the nearby houses.

“Look there, there’s a nipple showing!” he screamed again.

When the Principal looked back at Fallore to see where he was pointing, he saw Fallore had pulled his shirt down so that his own nipple was showing. The boys in the class guffawed, the girls cursed Fallore, but he laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes. When he had calmed down, the security guard picked him up by the collar and dragged him downstairs.

Miss Lumba did not come to class for a few days and we heard she had asked to be relieved of teaching our class. But because the school was short of science teachers, her request was denied. Fallore, however, never came back to class. And to the school.