SUB TEACHER

By Astrocarl

           It was hard to get out of bed usually, but today I was booked to cover Ms. Brosh's fifth grade class.  She was always there first thing in the morning when I arrived, looking like she'd been awake for hours, and always wearing something bordering on sexy.  She was only twenty-two, so I assumed she was just dressing 'young'.  She was gorgeous, too.  Sandy blonde hair, 5'6", probably no more than 120lbs., and she had a striking resemblance to Jennifer Connolly.  Not hard on the eyes at 7:15am.

           She greeted me, as usual, in her room, where she'd been setting out lesson plans for me.  She always drew little happy faces on her notes.  This time I walked in as she was finishing one.

           "Morning!"  I offered.

           "Oh, how's it going Mr. Stevens?  I'm just wrapping up the plans for you."

           "Thanks,"  I said as she turned back to the note.  I took the second or two I had to catch a glimpse of her toes.  She was wearing some wedge-style slides that showed all but her pinky toe, and of course the rest of her foot from the arch to the heel.  Whoa.  Nice.  I'd never seen her in these shoes before, but I hoped I'd see them more with Spring approaching.  Today she had red toenail polish, but it was just starting to chip away in a few little spots.  She turned to me again.

           "There you go, and they should be ready to be picked up in the gym in about twenty minutes."  She was looking directly into my eyes.  I tried to appear confident, but I could only last for a second or two before I had to look away.  That's when I noticed something on the wall by the chalkboard.

           "What's that colored chart?"  I asked, half curious and half trying to cover the awkwardness.

           "Yeah, that's the new behavior chart."  We walked over to it.  It was a series of sheets of construction paper, laminated one above the other like photos in a wallet.  "Each color is a different warning level," she explained, "Everyone starts the day on blue at the top."  There were clothes pins pinched to the sides of the chart, each had a student's name on it.  "When someone is having trouble following directions, I move their clip down one color.  The first one is time out, the second is no recess, third is a phone call home, and so on."  Each colored sheet had some clipart image attempting to illustrate the idea.

           "What about that last one?"  I asked, somewhat curious (obviously) about the  footprint clipart.

           "Don't worry about that one; nobody wants to get all the way down there."  She looked right into my eyes again and grinned.  I felt a chill.  She grabbed a satchel and headed to the door.  "I'll be in the library if you need me; the number is right here by the phone."  She turned and walked out.

           "Thanks again for having me today," I tried to get it all out before she was gone.  She answered form the hall, "My pleasure."

           I felt lucky today.  For several reasons: One, I got to see Ms. Brosh; and Two, sub jobs were increasingly difficult to come by lately.  Apparently there were several incidents, early this semester and in the previous year, that some sub teachers actually abducted students from the classes they were covering, and were never found.  Obviously, security had to be tightened drastically, and many subs that I'd known were let go because of new stricter guidelines on the background checks.  One was even fired because they found that he ran a yahoo group with images of 18-year-old girls' feet!  That's the third reason I felt lucky: I'd canceled my subscription to that group about a month before they found it.  I'd just been curious about girls' feet since I was a kid, but now I was starting to appreciate the peds of girls a bit further out of high school, like Ms. Brosh.

           I was one of her regular subs, probably because the first time I had her class for a day, I handled several pretty fierce situations fairly well, AND I told her I'd come back anytime.  Teachers love that.  I liked to think that maybe she had a crush on me, but I'd probably never know.

           The best part about covering for this particular class was that Ms. Brosh was, like today, usually on campus, in and out of meetings with literacy specialists, etc.  She always made it a point to stop by the room from time to time to check up on us.  This was especially helpful to me, because I had back-up; anytime a student got out of control, I could threaten to tell Ms. Brosh – today, I could call her.  She really had a grip on these kids better than any other fifth grade teacher I'd had the opportunity to sub for.  Maybe it was her demeanor.  Maybe it was that chart.  I stared at it until the first bell rang, and I went to get the kids in the gym.

           As we got back to the room, I had the students go to their desks to read independently while I looked over her notes:

           7:45-8:00  Reading time

           8:00-9:00  Language arts-Have the students write in their journals for about ten minutes.  There should be NO talking during this time; they've been hanging out in the gym already! ;^)

           I smiled at the happy face, then looked up to see Eric Davis flipping-off another student across the room.

           "Eric,"  I snapped, "that's inappropriate."

           He dropped his hand down behind his desk, but Carly, who sat next to him, looked where his hand was and started to laugh.  Then she looked at me with some guilt on her face.  He'd been caught.

           "Eric, come up here please."

           "Aw, man," he whined with his trademark attitude.  "What'd I do?!"

           "You flipped me off behind your desk, and you're not reading, like I asked."

           "So?" he returned.

           "So, do I need to move your clip down to green already?  Or can you get yourself under control?"

           "I didn't do nothing, Mr. Stiffin."  He smiled proudly at his pun, and turned to accept the snickers it had caused.

           "Fine," I said, as I walked over to the chart.  "We can start the day off that way if you want to."  I reached his clip and slid it down to green.

           "No!  that's not fair!"  he complained, running over to the board and reaching for his clip.  "Put it back; I'll be good!"  I restrained his arm.

           "It doesn't work that way, buddy," I informed him.  "You made a choice.  Now go sit in time out and take a book to read."

           Eric stomped over to his desk and slammed his hand on his book, murmuring under his breath the whole time.

           "And Ms. Brosh said no talking, Eric, so you might want to stop that mumbling before I move you down again."

           He looked at me with hatred in his eyes, no doubt a posture he'd learned at home.  I thought for a moment that he'd calm down, but he couldn't get over losing control of the class to me.  "Sucks!"  he yelled as he went to the time-out desk.  Without blinking I slid his clip to yellow.

           "That's no recess, bud.  You wanna keep it up?"  I was starting to feel bad for having such an awesome weapon.  I wasn't used to getting students to do much of anything I asked, at least not the first time, but today this class was silent.  Everyone else had their faces buried in their books, except for the few who were looking over at Eric to see what he might do next.  I checked the chart again.  Next would be orange – it had a telephone printed on it.  After that, red – which had a clipart image of an a cricket.  Last, of course, was purple – the footprint.  My imagination was running wild.  'Nobody wants to get all the way down there', her voice repeated in my head.

           We made it to lunch without so much as a peep out of Eric, or anyone else for that matter.  I'd be picking the class up in the cafeteria in a few minutes.  I looked at the note again:

           11:15-11:45  Lunch

           11:50-12:10  RECESS-They know better than to ask to go to the restroom, so if anyone tries it, move their clip.

           We didn't even make it  to the playground before Eric shouted from the back of the line, "I gotta use it, Mr. Stiffin!"  Had he learned nothing this morning?  Every bit of training I'd had told me this wasn't personal, but I was getting frustrated.  I probably wouldn't have reacted so harshly if I wasn't so curious about those last few sheets on the behavior chart.

           "Eric, that's two color changes: one for asking to go to the restroom when you know better, and one for continuing to call me by the wrong name."  I'd just sent him past the phone call home and straight to whatever 'cricket' was.  Any other class would have started to giggle and whisper about a fellow student getting in so much trouble, but these kids were silent.  Some even looked shocked or scared.  I kept my game face on.

           "When we get back to the room we'll call Ms. Brosh in the library and see what she has to say."

           "You won't have to," her voice came from behind me.  She was staring at Eric with her hands behind her back as she paced slowly toward him. "What color does that put Eric on for today, Mr. Stevens?"

           "Red."

           "I guess I'll be coming back to the room with you then."

           "Okay."  I pretended to seem authoritative with her, but I was kinda scared for this kid.  What had I sentenced him to?  I asked her quietly as we walked along next to the line of students, "So, do you have to call his Dad now, or something?"

           "Nope," was all she said, as she looked straight ahead.

           Once we reached the room, Ms. Brosh took over.  She had the students sit in a big circle on the floor in the corner.  I took a chair and sat right outside of them.  Ms. Brosh started talking from her desk, where she took something small from the drawer.  Then she grabbed a can of Diet Coke she'd been drinking.

           "We had a talk about your behavior for substitutes didn't we class?"

           "Yes, ma'am," they droned.

           "And we had a talk about the behavior chart, too, right?"

           "Yes, ma'am."

           She was walking slowly toward the circle.  They were all visibly shaken, but Eric could only stare at the floor.  I detected a sniffle, as if he were crying.

           "Eric,"  she said coldly, "here."  She held out a small pink pill and her coke.  "Take it," she ordered.  Eric didn't move.  "Don't make me move you're clip again now.  You've still got a chance to make this a good day."  He still didn't move.  "Eric, I'm going to count to three.  One..."

           Eric began sobbing uncontrollably as she counted.  He continually wiped his eyes while keeping his head buried.

           "Two..."

           He looked up at her with more fear than I've ever seen.  "I don't want to take it!"  he blurted.      

           "Two-and-a-half..."

           "Please, Ms. Brosh!  Please!!" 

           She gave him an extra second or two of silence in which to decide, then she spoke. 

           "Three."

           "NO, NO, NO!"  Eric had lost all control.  He had leapt up from the circle and headed straight for the door.  Ms. Brosh just watched him struggle with the knob. As she slid his clip down to purple, she spoke again.

           "Eric, you know the deal."  With those words, she stretched her hand out toward him.  Suddenly, a beam of light shot across the room and enveloped him.  I watched in awe as he flew toward her hand, shrinking to a height of only an inch or so as he moved through the air!  Once she had him in her palm, she addressed the class, as though she were giving a normal lesson.

           "Who can tell Mr. Stevens what would have happened if Eric had made a good choice and taken the pill?"  Every hand shot up.  "Linda?"

           "Eric would have turned into a bug and we would have set him free on the playground," the girl recited.

           "That's right.  And who can tell Mr. Stevens what has to happen now?"  Again, every hand was raised immediately.  "Seth?"

           "Eric stays a person, only tiny, and you're gonna step on him."

           "That's right.  Do you think that was a good choice Eric made, boys and girls?"

           "No, ma'am."

           She brought her hand close to her face.  Eric was curled into a ball on her flattened palm.  "That's right," she whispered at him, her breath moving his hair slightly.  She crouched down and set him on the floor.  Then, she slipped her left foot out of her shoe.  "These are new shoes.  I don't want to ruin them," she said to me with a wink.  I was absolutely glued to this show.  I mean, I love kids, but this was more like a video clip I'd download from the internet (in my dreams).

           Eric wiggled in fetal position as Ms. Brosh placed her bare foot on top of her other foot, her toes spread apart as they rested on the leather upper of the shoe.

           "Say goodbye to Eric, class," she instructed.  One voice muttered something like goodbye, but, sensing it was alone, quickly fell silent.

           Suddenly, Eric sprang to his tiny feet and began to sprint!  He probably had no idea where he was going, except AWAY from Ms. Brosh's comparatively huge, meaty, bare foot that was poised to squash him.  She giggled, then she leaned forward, shifting her weight to the patch of floor directly in front of her.  Her bare foot lifted from its perch and floated out over Eric's miniscule body.  With a playful energy, she pointed her foot and raised her toes at the last second, bringing the ball of her foot down sharply, and crushing Eric instantly.  Her toes splayed to bare her weight, and she began to grind her foot from side to side, very slowly and deliberately.  Every student cringed as wet pulp squished up between her toes.  She was smiling.

           "There," she said slyly, "that was easy."  She looked at me in the same way she had this morning, and I felt the same chill.  "Mr. Stevens," she started, "I guess I should have warned you more fairly..."

           My mind was racing.  After all I'd seen, I'd never be able to live a normal life, and it was just occurring to me that she probably wasn't going to let me, either.

           "Did you wonder how I might explain a missing child to his parents?"

           I had.  So I nodded.

           "I'll have to tell them that he disappeared, along with my sub, during recess."

           "Oh."  I realized now how simple an explanation it was, given that some teachers in this district must have supernatural powers, and given that THAT would be an unbelievable explanation.  Ms. Brosh raised her arm toward me and everything went white.

           I came-to sitting in the palm of her hand, just as Eric had only minutes earlier.  She brought me close to her face, and smiled a simple, evil smile.  Her lips parted as her tongue slipped through her teeth to speak.

           "Thanks for being such a good sub, Mr. Stevens."  The boom of her whisper shook me to the bone.  I could feel her warm breath rush over me with the scent of Diet Coke.  "I'd love to have you back again, but I'm going eat you instead."

           With that, her other hand crept up behind me and lifted me by my shoulders into the air.  She held me close to her face and teased me with a quick gnash of her teeth.  As she raised me over her mouth, she licked her lips as if to help them open.  Then, she lowered me gently to her outstretched tongue.  My feet and legs slid quickly onto its slimy, bumpy surface and I instinctively raised my arms to catch myself against her incisors.  They came down onto my chest, holding me against her tongue temporarily.  All I could see was her upper lip, which slowly closed toward my neck and face.  I could feel the pressure on my lower body of her sucking me inward.  Her mouth closed around my neck now, and with my arms I could feel her top and bottom teeth coming back together just behind her pursed lips.  The teeth clinched my throat as she parted her lips one last time, exposing my head to the students' gaze.  Then, instantly, she opened her mouth and lifted me completely inside, biting closed behind me.  Her tongue moved me over to the left side of her mouth as her molars fatally ground into my tiny body, and everything went white.