Chapter 28
The Voodoo Teacher
Still dressed like a clown after my non-ID check, I had only managed to take two more chaotic laps around the track with Shadow. At one point during my flight, I landed hard right at the feet of four teenagers.
They were my actual students.
They immediately crowded around me, firing off questions at the flying clown.
“What did that MP want with you?” one asked.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
“Are you a cop?” another asked, squinting.
“Are you a drug dealer?”
I looked up from the grass and didn’t bother to hide my natural voice. “He wanted to know who I was because it’s Halloween. No, I am not a cop. No, I am not a drug dealer—and you’d better not be either.”
I fully thought they recognized me the second I spoke. I don’t know why on earth I expected that, considering Short Straw hadn’t even recognized me behind the white paint, but the kids didn’t have a clue. It turned out that my blunt, completely honest answers handed me instant credibility with them anyway. They relaxed and just began to talk.
Shadow finally decided he’d had enough of the park and dragged me back home. Later that evening, I stopped in front of a bookshelf in my living room, my eyes locking onto a specific title: Voodoo, Witchcraft and Mind Control… How to Think Your Enemies to Death.
As I stood in my livingroom, I realized they had absolutely no idea who I was. They didn’t even bother to ask. Instead, they just kept chatting right in front of me, openly discussing the plans they were trying to make for the coming weekend.
A little idea formed in my mind. I smiled and tossed the book right into my school backpack.
Due to the way school scheduling works, students don’t really socialize in the hallways with the exact same friends they hang out with after hours. My first-period class the next morning just happened to have two of the girls in it who had been standing by the track in the park the day before.
As the bell rang and the students entered the room, they noticed me casually placing the new book onto my classroom shelf.
“Miss, what are you doing with that?” one of the girls asked, pointing at the cover.
“The book?” I asked innocently. “I heard that some of the local people around here are pretty heavy believers, and I just wanted to see what it was all about.”
That instantly sparked a heated, sixty-second conversation across the desks.
“My uncle was cursed by voodoo!”
“I’ve seen it work for real!”
“I don’t believe it.”
“It’s totally fake.”
“My aunt says they use chickens in their practices!”
I let them buzz for a minute, then clapped my hands. “Okay, back on topic. Take out your Algebra tiles, everyone. We will be practicing polynomials today in a different way.”
Class settled back into learning after that. Polynomials are not nearly as exciting to fourteen-year-olds as they are to math teachers. Eventually, the clock wound down, and it was time to pack up. As the kids shoved their binders into their bags, they started gossiping about their upcoming weekend plans.
This was my chance.
“Maria,” I said casually, leaning against my desk. “I’m not so sure you should go to your uncle’s party this weekend. They will all probably be a good deal older than you are there. Why don’t you talk with your parents about it first? Just check and see if they think it’s a good idea.”
Maria froze. Her eyes went completely wide, and she looked at her friend. “Miss… how do you know about that?”
“Weren’t you two just talking about it?” I asked, playing dumb.
Their heads shook in unison, their jaws practically hitting the floor.
From that day on, I was the Voodoo Teacher.