Fall in May

~14~ Cap't Midnight has Blue Balls.

"All great beginnings start in the dark, when the moon greets you to a new day at midnight." ~Shannon L. Alder

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Tuesday - September 8th 

It's my second day in Hell on the Hill, and everything is pretty much the same as yesterday.   Except I skate myself to school instead of surviving another traditional traffic jam with ol' Aces. I don't need to drop by the Main Office to see the Sleestak Queen. May misses homeroom for some reason. And I know where my most of my classes are now, and some actual teaching begins. So actually everything about today is totally different from my first day in Hell?

After a Mayless homeroom, I drift through my first two classes with little or no interest. The only thing noteworthy is that it becomes painfully clear that Or'sir likes picking on people. Obviously in order to show off how much smarter at The Old English he is than everyone else. He especially seems fond of poking at the massive monster sitting next to me with the stupid stick, just about every chance he gets. No shocker there, because based on what little I know of their history, there is no love lost between The Butcher Boy and Or'sir. At the end of a very long and painful hour of Beowulf, I am not sure that anyone has hated the Grendel as much as The Butcher does now. Maybe not even Beowulf himself? 

After I finally escape The Old English, now comes my new least favorite class, gym with Captain Midnight. Per yesterday instructions, the entire class heads straight into the lockers and changes into our swim gear for our big day at the pool. For me that's easy, cause I wore my trunks for jocks anyways. So I just drop off my jeans and toss them in my locker with my book bag. I pull out my goggles, a pretty decent "used" pair I found floating at the bottom of the deep drain at the Annex that I own now. I figured some lapper probably lost them in the deep end, and was afraid to go down deep to the bottom drain in order to retrieve the not totally cheap pair of wide-frame goggles. But lucky for me, where I come from salvage is the law of the sea. So they are all mine now by right of finders-keepers  

After roll call, Chad marches the entire class of chum over to the pool complex to get his pool party started. It's been a couple of months since I graced the Plunge pools with my presence. I note that the ambiance around the complex has changed some since I worked here for a week during the summer. The miasma mist of chlorine is not nearly as overwhelming as I remember, and the water actually looks clear and clean without the greenish toilet tint. Long gone are all the chaise lounge deckchairs of summertime fun, hidden away somewhere in storage for next summer swim season. Even my old friend Princess Pee Pee in the kiddie pool is now completely locked down for the winter, with hard deck top cover. Or as in Plunger argot, "someone put the lid down on The Toilet."

When we finally get lined up in front of the Olympic pool, Chad's first order of business is to separate out the weak. 

"Lee go sit over on the benches!" Chad snaps and points to the aluminum bench rack stacks against the wall.

"Okay ladies, listen up!" Chad marches back and forth twirling his stopwatch like a majorette as he barks instructions at the collection of freshmeat chum.

"In order to pass this test, you will need to jump in the water. Then swim the length of the pool to the deep end. Where you will retrieve one of the blue balls..."  Chad grins mischievously at his own lame joke and waits for the rest of us to get it. When no one laughs he shrugs off the stupid and keeps pressing his luck.  "...from down in the drain and bring it back. Any questions about how to get blue balls, ladies?"

When no one raises their hands or acknowledges Chad at all, he takes that as a sign to just be himself.

"So who wants to go first? Lee?" Chad laughs psychotically and points to the kid sitting on the top of the aluminum bleachers against the wall, as humanly far away from the water as possible. I can only shake my head in dismay at the psycho. Oh yeah, let's shame the kid for never learning how to swim. Great plan, Cap't.