At one point, I was speaking German but it was while he was talking. He bopped me with the paper toy, "Pass auf!" (Pay attention) and I became mortally offended. I really hate when things touch my face, which is a weird hang up but as soon as it happened I fell still and was instantly filled with quiet wrath. I would destroy the toy, but I could bide my time.
It so happened that a few days later I got my chance. Our classroom was facing the blackboard and Herr Antley was writing. He turned to explain something then set the yoyo down on the front row of desks. The very front row of desks were empty, there were three or four people in the next and I was in the third row back. But there were no people between me and the yoyo. As soon as he turned his back I was up and over my desk in a flash. Silently I darted over the second row, stretched forward and snatched the yoyo.
I was absolutely silent and I was seated at my desk as he turned back around. The entire class saw me do this. And no one said a word. He turned back around and looked down where he'd put the yoyo, slightly puzzled. He then brushed it off, thinking he'd misplaced it.
Now, I could have burned the yoyo or thrown it away. But I was a senior and I wanted to do a senior prank. The big class one was a flop and Herr Antley was my favorite teacher. I didn't have a plan but I figured something would turn up. It turned up in the form of a used Polaroid camera in a thrift shop. I saw it and my plan dropped fully formed in my mind. I went out and bought a stack of film for it. This was near the beginning of the year.
I took a Polaroid of the yoyo against the windshield of my car on a rainy day. I made a friend who didn't have him as a teacher write on the bottom, "I've run away. I can no longer agree with your methods. I won't be misused. Regretfully yours." I left the picture in his mailbox, anonymously, a week or two after having stolen it.
He was clearly agitated that day in class. He asked if someone had taken it. We sat in silence and I sweated but to my classmates credit not a single finger pointed at me. The next Polaroid was the yoyo sitting on the seat of Isaac's bike, about two months later. "I've taken up some hobbies. Biking is fun. I still miss you sometimes, but I can't come back." I left it in the CD slot of his Mac, sticking out obviously.
He started tacking up the Polaroids, keeping them on his cork board. I sent a few, one every couple months. One was the yoyo and Kat (she went to a different school, I was covering my tracks), "I found a date to prom. I think I'm finally fitting in!" There were a few others. Each one was delivered differently and anonymously.
Our school has a tradition for graduation where all the teachers form double rows to make a column and hold out yardsticks to make a tunnel. It lets out at the buses that carry us away for the graduation ceremony. You stop and bid your favorite teachers goodbye. I decided to return the yoyo then. As we were walking down the column I stopped in front of Herr Antley. I smiled sweetly, pulled out the yoyo, and bopped him on the nose.
"Du?! Es war du?!" (You?! It was you?!") He told me he thought it was Nick and Ted, our resident troublemakers. I gave the yoyo back and we hugged.
A few of my friends were the year below me. They told me Herr Antley still has the Polaroids up and delights in telling people about it.
No comments:
Post a Comment