Jim hopped into the passenger side of Coach Williams' red Dodge Viper (with the top up for winter, of course). It was the coolest car Jim had ever sat in.
"Nice wheels, Coach." His eyes were wide in admiration.
"Well, it's one o' the perks of winning, Jim."
(Since Coach Williams had started coaching football, the team had won their conference every year and made it to the State Championship about half the time. They'd even been state champions three times in the last five years. Of course, private schools never had as much competition in their league, but it was still a big deal. Coach always said the teams won because they had "good discipline." Wasn't that the truth!)
"I guess so!"
"And one o' the perks of not havin' kids. You guys cost your parents a lotta money, you know."
They pulled out of the school parking lot and onto the road.
"Which way's your house?"
"We live over in Bramble Court, off Memorial Drive."
That was a little further away than coach had bargained for, but it was too late to go back on his offer now. Bramble Court was a large subdivision about four miles from the school, and Memorial Drive was littered with traffic lights along the way. This trip was going to take a little time. Probably 10 to 15 minutes.
"Alright." Coach turned right on Main Street toward Memorial Drive and reached for his cell phone. He punched a couple buttons. "Hi, honey. I'm on my way now but I have to drop one o' the boys off first. . . . Huh? . . . No. The other boys left before he was done, and I couldn't let him walk home in the cold. . . . Well it's January! . . . C'mon, aren't you the one who's supposed to have this maternal desire to help others? . . . What?! . . . No. I don't think I'll be there in five minutes. . . . Yes! I'll be there as soon as I can!"
Coach punched the "End" button and firmly put his cell phone down on the dash. "Women! She's worried we might miss the 'before show' hors d'oeuvres and champagne." He rolled his eyes. "What a shame."
"I'm sorry if I'm making you late, Coach. I can get out and walk if you want. It's really not that far."
"Yes it is. And besides," he said with a glint in his eye, "I don't like that nasty snail stuff anyway."
"You mean escargot?"
"Whatever."
They drove on without saying anything for a minute, up to the stoplight at Main and Memorial. Coach Williams broke the silence as the car came to a stop at the red light.
"So, what did you do, Jim?"
"Huh?"
"Boys don't usually end up with bright red backsides if they haven't done something. Especially not with color like that – musta been your third or fourth time this month, I'd wager."
"Oh. Yeah." Jim really didn't want to talk about this.
"So, what'd you do?"
But Dean Johnson already knew it all anyway. What was the harm at this point?
"Well, Max Stuart and I . . . uh . . . well . . . we kinda scared Miss Mapleton."
The coach looked at Jim with surprise. Amanda Mapleton was the best-looking teacher Brock Williams had ever laid eyes on; he'd committed adultery with her more than once in his dreams. If it weren't for Mrs. Williams . . .
"Well this sounds interesting! Go on."
"C'mon, Jim. It'll be a riot! And they'll never know who did it, either."
"I dunno, Max. I've already gotten it twice since Christmas break."
Jim had made one trip to the Dean's office for being twenty minutes late to school without a note from his parents. (His Dad had made him walk instead of giving him a ride after he mouthed off at breakfast.) The second had come as the result of a lunchtime food fight – in which half the junior class had participated, but for some reason he had been one of only three singled out for the "honor" of visiting the Dean. Max had been the real instigator of the food fight, but of course none of the fingers got pointed at him.
"Uh, oh! Is poor little Jimmy gettin' a sore butt? Dean Johnson's paddle is a little too tough for him!"
"Shut up. Alright, I'll do it. But if I get caught I'm taking you with me! Got it?"
"Yeah, it's cool, dude. Lighten up! We're not gonna get caught!"
The plan was pretty simple. They would "borrow" Mr. LeFevre's garter snake – Mr. LeFevre was the biology teacher – and use it to scare Miss Mapleton. Before first period (when they both had her for Algebra II), Jim would distract her in the hallway and Max – who was better with snakes – would stick it in her top desk drawer. Eventually she'd open the drawer and . . . voila! Jim grinned wildly at the thought of her reaction.
The boys had discovered Miss Mapleton's fear of snakes earlier in the year when, while on bus duty before school last fall, she had seen one slither by, screamed, and jumped into a surprised (but not unhappy) Coach Williams' arms. Max had run off, caught the snake, and was bringing it back to show her when Williams had boomed, "Get that snake outta here, Stuart!"
That morning the plan had gone off without a hitch. Max made sure Mr. LeFevre was in the teacher's lounge getting coffee (as he always did before school), snuck into the biology classroom, bagged the snake, and headed for Miss Mapleton's room. Jim hung around outside the lounge, waiting for Miss Mapleton. When she walked out (right behind Mr. LeFevre, Jim noticed) he called to her.
"Miss Mapleton! Can I ask you a question about one of our homework problems before class? I just couldn't get this last one."
"Sure, Jim, I have a minute." She walked over as Jim showed her the problem which involved finding the foci of an ellipse. He watched Max dart past them with a wriggling sack as Miss Mapleton talked and scribbled something on his page. "So you just have to readjust the origin before applying the formula we learned in class," she concluded.
"Oh, yeah, I'll try that. Thanks."
She smiled at him – his looks always helped him with women teachers. "You're welcome, Jim. Now just finish it up before class. I have to go put a few notes on the board before class starts."
Jim watched her swinging hips a little too closely as she walked down the hall to her classroom. Once she was gone, he pulled out his real homework sheet (he'd already finished the problem) and followed after her. First period wouldn't be boring today!
The class had barely started when it happened. The bell rang and everyone got quiet at their desks. Miss Mapleton picked up her book to take attendance and realized she needed a pen. She opened her top desk drawer to pull one out . . . and a snake's head popped out instead.
Miss Mapleton screamed bloody murder and half-leapt/half-fell back towards the blackboard. Some of the girls in the class started screaming, too, and Max said to Milton Praun – one of the more gullible boys in the class – "I think it's a copperhead."
"It's a copperhead!!!" Milton yelled, and soon everyone was on their desks as the snake slithered to the floor.
Poor Miss Mapleton didn't have a desk to stand on, since the snake was coming out of her own, but she finally leapt up on one of the girls' desks, too. She looked like she might faint at any second. Max and Jim were trying to act scared, but if anyone had been looking at them (instead of the snake) the twinkle in their eyes would have been obvious. It was just too funny!
That's when the plan started to unravel.
The classroom door opened and in walked Mr. LeFevre. "Max Stuart! Where's my . . ." his eyes went wide as he took in the scene, realized what was happening, and saw his snake slithering haplessly on the floor. He quickly strode across the room and grabbed the snake, holding it firmly just behind the head so it couldn't bite him – not that a garter snake's bite would have mattered much anyway.
"Oh, Mr. LeFevre! Thank God, you're here! That snake just popped out of my desk and . . ."
"It's alright Miss Mapleton, I've got it now. You can all get back in your seats now."
The teenagers climbed down off their desks, but Miss Mapleton was the slowest of them all to get down. Her eyes never left the snake.
Mr. LeFevre, however, quickly fixed his glare on Max. His eyes narrowed to slits.
"Where's the bag, Max?" he demanded.
"What? What do you mean?" Max responded a bit nervously.
"I know you used a bag to get it here. Now where is it?!?!"
Max was caught, and he knew it. He pulled the sack out of his backpack. "Right here, sir," he said as he handed over the bag. Mr. LeFevre dropped the snake in and closed it up.
"He took the snake while I was getting coffee, Miss Mapleton, but fortunately another student saw him do it." What? Who was that, Max wondered. "I'm sorry about this."
"It's alright, Mr. LeFevre," responded a still visibly shaken and pale Miss Mapleton.
"He must have moved pretty fast to get it in your desk before you got back here yourself. You left the lounge at the same time I did. I wonder how you didn't catch him."
"Yes, me too. I think I would have except . . ." Miss Mapleton's gaze rested on Jim. Math teacher that she was, she had finally put two and two together. "Except for Mr. Hughes last minute need for help in the hall." She walked over to Jim's desk and whisked his homework away from under his nose. "Where's the note I wrote on the last page, Jim? I see you've got the elliptical problem right here. I wondered why I didn't see you scribbling furiously to finish it when you got to class."
"Uh, well, uh, you see . . ."
"Mr. Stuart, Mr. Hughes, why don't you join me for a stop at the Dean's office," Mr. LeFevre ordered.
It was all over. "Yes, sir," the two boys responded in unison.