Clay Heroes

Chapter 3: Meet Your Maker

Chad awoke the next morning with the realization that it was Friday. He breathed a sigh of relief and felt a little bit better. Friday was typically Chad's favorite day of the week. The teachers seemed more relaxed, he had the weekend to look forward to, and he had plenty of work to distract him from Remy's muttering or the giggles from the other students. He walked to school full of anticipation for what the day could afford him to wipe away the hardships of the week.

This time around, his teacher Ms. Desser had a special announcement.

"Thank you to all of you who signed up for the talent show," she gushed, adjusting her wingtip spectacles on the bridge of her nose. "As you all know, we would like to give everybody the chance to participate, so those who have not signed up to perform need to decide if they want to help backstage or hand out programs at the front." She flitted around the front of the class, her full, tiered skirt swirling around the tops of her ankle boots like a vortex of energy.

Chad liked Ms. Desser; she was a teacher who had a lot of fun, exciting ways to help her students remember key points in every lesson, and she had a great sense of humor and loved to read to them while they listened. He liked the outfits she wore, and how every day she seemed to have a new pair of large, dangly earrings that managed to match exactly the outfit she had on. And she always wore her ankle boots when she was happy; she told him once that flats made her feel flat, so whenever Chad was feeling "flat" and dismal, he could glance at her ankle boots and feel instantly better.

Today, he felt his heart jump in his chest at the mention of the extra jobs involved with the talent show.There went his chances of not having to do anything at all except the mandatory attendance. Well, at least backstage he would not have to be seen by anyone.

He raised his hand, but there were a couple other students who raised their hands as well. Ms. Desser called on one of them first.

"Anna?"

"I want to help backstage."

The teacher nodded her curly brown head. "All right, that covers that! Which leaves.... Timothy and Chad, you will be the ushers for the third grade portion."

"And don't screw it up!"Somebody shouted out in the silence. The whole class dissolved into giggles.

"Who said that?" Ms. Desser demanded, scanning the innocent-looking faces. She glanced apologetically at Chad, but the young boy hid his red face in the collar of his shirt. They were right, and he knew it; his reputation was one of confounding the simplest of directions. The only job for him was the one that required no skill at all.

By the time school let out, the rain came down in sheets. Chad hitched his coat up over his head and ran blindly down the familiar paths. He didn't even pay attention to where exactly he was going; his feet knew the route well enough. All he thought about was getting home and hopefully avoiding any ankle-deep puddles along the way. 

It was not until the old parking structure loomed before him that Chad realized he had taken the wrong route home. He should have gone down Hillsmith like his mother had recommended, since it had worked so well the day before. But instead, he had inadvertently chosen Birch Street. He slowed to a crawl as the rain poured over him. He could only hope that Justice and the others wouldn't dare be waiting for him in this weather. Of course they wouldn't; only someone very much intent on going out of their way to make another person miserable would dare, and those guys—for all the enjoyment they got out of terrorizing Chad—were not that sort, were they? 

Chad slipped under the shelter of the overhanging second story of the structure. His footsteps, and the noisy snuffles, echoed in the emptiness of the concrete jungle gym. He rounded a corner and nearly collided with Dune.