Chapter 20
The Voodoo Teachers
Yesterday, after the non-ID check, I had only taken two more laps around the track.
At one point, I landed at the feet of four teenagers.
My students.
They began to question me.
“What did that MP want with you?”
“Why are you dressed like that?”
“Are you a cop?”
“Are you a dealer?”
“He wanted to know who I was. Because it’s Halloween. No, not a cop. No, not a drug dealer and you’d better not be either.”
I didn’t hide my voice.
I fully expected them to recognize me.
I don’t know why I expected that.
Short Straw didn’t know me.
It turns out, my blunt honest answers handed me instant credibility.
They began to talk.
I realized that they did not recognize me.
They didn’t even ask.
They just talked about the plans they were trying to make for the weekend.
Shadow finally decided to take me home.
I stopped at a bookshelf in my living room, staring at a book.
Voodoo, Witchcraft and Mind Control… How to Think Your Enemies to Death
I tossed it into my backpack.
Due to scheduling, students don’t really socialize at school with the exact same friends that they hang out with after school.
My first period class had two of the girls in it that were in the park.
Entering the class, they noticed me placing a new book on my shelf.
“Miss, what are you doing with that?”
“The book? I heard that some local people are pretty heavy believers and I wanted to see what it was about.”
That sparked a sixty-second conversation.
“My uncle was cursed by voodoo!”
“I’ve seen it work.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“It’s fake.”
“My aunt says they use chickens in their practices!”
“OK, back on topic. Take out your algebra tiles, we will be practicing polynomials today in a different way.”
Class droned on as polynomials are not nearly as exciting to fourteen-year-olds as they are to teachers.
Eventually, it was time to pack up.
The students started talking about what they were going to do for the weekend.
My chance.
“Maria, I’m not sure you should go to your uncle’s party.
They will all probably be a good deal older than you are there.
Why don’t you talk with your parents about it?
Just check if they think it’s a good idea.”
“Miss, how do you know about that?”
“Weren’t you two just talking about it?”
Heads shook and eyes went wide.
It turns out teenagers may give clowns they don’t even know credibility.
But one day of weird predictions and I had a new nickname…
Voodoo Teacher.
Daniel's Den 