I ran away and become the groundskeeper at a boarding school this weekend. It seemed like a good thing to do. All the students were a little scared of me and thought I was creepy. They’d look at me all askance and out of the corners of their eyes as I did my usual grounds keeping stuff. The way I was always around and wearing that ratty old watch cap all the time and mutter at them in the halls between class, this made them a little uneasy. And my groundskeeper’s cabin was completely off limits, they weren’t allowed to get near it. The little buggers. I even had this big scary dog with one eye (to make it scarier) tied up out front and if any of the students would get too close, it would bark and bark at them. Real loud. Hooo… it was just too funny to watch them scamper away in fright as my big, scary dog barked at them. I was going to teach him to froth a little as he barked too. That would have been pretty cool.
Then one day, one of the younger students, just a scrawny little guy, sneaked into my cabin to prove how brave he was to the older kids. He crept through the front, where I keep all my groundskeeper’s tools. We almost peed himself when he knocked over the huge pile of old pesticide and paint cans. Heh, that was pretty funny, watching him tippy-toe through all the clutter trying to be all careful, than Crash! Clatter! and all the cans fell down around him. Oh, the look on his face! I wish I had my camera! Then slowly he pushed open the door to my room. He was all sorts of surprised that someone as gruff as me would have such a neat and tidy room with bookcases full of poetry and classic literature. It just wasn’t what he expected at all. I think he was a little disappointed he didn’t find a treasure trove of porn and booze.
Then I snuck up on the little sprout and scared him a good one. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?!” I roared. Heh, I thought he was going to wet himself again. Maybe he didn’t drink enough water. That’s not good you know. It’s important to stay properly hydrated. He was pretty scared, but he was caught good and he knew it, so bravely, he stood his ground. Then we become friends.
We bonded (Bound? No, “bonded”.) over Fig Newtons and he told me all his troubles. He had a lot for just a little guy. First his name was Nevell. (It could have been worse. His brother’s name was “Go Ahead And Beat Me Ya Big Pansy”.) If that wasn’t bad enough, he was a little small for his age. And he stuttered. On top of that he wore big glasses and was pretty smart, so he kept wrecking the grade curve for the bigger, dumber boys. See? He had all sorts of problems. I decide to be his mentor and help develop his confidence. Then he could show the older boys what he was really made of. That was the plan, anyway.
He’d follow me around while I was busy keeping the grounds. We’d talk about stuff, and I helped him with his studies. I coached him a little when he decided to ask the pretty girl out to the Big School Dance. Yeah, I was a big help to little Nevell.
Naaaaawww… who am I kidding? I found some snoopy kid in my room, and whacked him with a rake and let my scary dog chase him back to his dorm. That taught the pesky little snoop a lesson, I’ll tell you.
The Headmaster didn’t think that was the “appropriate course of behavior when dealing with our valuable charges”, or something like that. I’m not sure. I wasn’t paying much attention. I was also a little drunk. The main thing was he kicked my sorry butt to the curb. But it was a learning experience for everyone.
It’s just a good thing it was a long weekend.
-Rue.
