A Town Called Nowhere

You Lived in the Big City?

Olsson School is an old, decrepit building in the center of Nowhere. It was built before anyone had the common sense to photograph its construction, and locals like to boast that it was built before people even lived in Sweden. Obviously, that's not the case- a placard on the school says, "dedicated 28 January 1895." In a few years, the building will be old enough to be designated a National Historic Landmark. Until then, it's just a school.

Like everyone else in a twenty mile radius, Niilo and Noah go to school at Olsson. They like to stick to the sidelines, grazing the lockers. More popular students walk in the middle of the hallways, high-fiving and whats-upping each other. Niilo and Noah make it to Mr. Hendersson's classroom without uttering a word to anyone. 

The chalkboard says "Treaty of the Pruth" on it in big block letters. Mr. Hendersson, at the board and mid-sentence, nods at them to take their seats. 

As every student walks in the door, he becomes more and more physically agitated. There are ten minutes left in class when the last student straggles in. Mr. Hendersson, who until this moment has been relatively collected considering most of his class isn't the room for his lectures, snaps. 

He slams both hands down on his desk. "Listen up!" he screams, piercing through his students' daydreams. "I know you don't care about this. If I'm being honest, neither do I- who the fuck cares about the Ottomans, anyways? But-" his voice gets dangerously low- "but when I was in the city, we listened anyways. Didn't matter if the teacher was talking about the most boring shit in the universe-- we listened. Did we care about it? No. Did we listen? Yes. Do you understand?"

A student-- Noah thinks his name is Bahadur, although he isn't quite sure-- raises his hand. It's probably the first time in a year and a half that's happened in any classroom in Olsson School. 

"But, Mr. Arning-"

"Hendersson. It's Hendersson."

"Mr. Hendersson... you lived in the big city?"

Mr. Hendersson sighs. "You missed the point," he says. "Class dismissed."