Hmph. Well, guess I haven't been on here for a while. Yeah, for anyone who still faithfully checks this thing and cares about whether I post or not (which basically boils down to my mom,) let me level with ya. You've probably already been able to tell that I've kind of lost interest in this little site of mine, seeing's how I haven't added a single thing to it since Daylight Savings time. My Page of Miscellany served me well for a year and a half or so and jump-started my creativity, but lately I just don't care anymore whether I add anything new here or not. And, judging by my feedback and comments for the past several posts, neither does anyone else, really. Oh, it doesn't bother me, mind you; I understand. The whole xanga thing, in general, has sort of lost its luster, and most people who haven't been checking my site have also not been checking their own, either. So, all that to say that it's only fair of me to warn you that I'm not sure how often I'll really be updating this thing in the future, or how often it will be worth your while to check it. That's not to say that I won't do it, (though it's not out of the question); I just don't know. I haven't sworn off writing altogether, though; in fact, by "jump-starting my creativity," as I said before, this site inspired me to move on to bigger, more ambitious things. I've just moved on from the old digital stomping grounds, as it were; and it remains to be seen how often I'll look back. With that said, there are still a few loose ends I'd still like to tie up on here. I've just come off of an entire semester of student teaching, with an entire semester's worth of memories and lessons and thoughts. That's not one of the loose ends I was talking about, though, because we established before that I don't care. This semester of teaching, however, did remind me of something else, as did the opportunity I have over the remainder of this break to go in and substitute-teach at my old elementary school for a few days. Yes, being at the front of a school classroom, and revisiting the educational building of my youth, reminded me of something I should have done a long time ago. And that is... Posting the conclusion to that old detective story I put up way back on my birthday! Yayy! I've actually been meaning to get Part 2 on here for several months now, but that's how little I cared. However, for your reading pleasure, today is finally the day that the matter of "The Nasty Substitute" is resolved. Just by way of information, this was the final detective story I wrote in my prolific sixth-grade year; written, as I remember, to satisfy a "descriptive" writing assignment. I had begun the story in our short-story unit and had broken it off for "being too long" (at three pages,) so, ever watchful for a chance to complete the tale, I adapted it to fulfilling the requirements for our "description" unit so I'd have an excuse to read it in front of our English class. (This is also the reason that this half of the story has several instances of unnecessary adjectives, in case you're wondering.) As always, it doesn't make sense and is error-laden and its logic would fall apart if somebody breathed on it, but of course you expect that by now. (Odd that I would be singing the praises of a teacher who has a science report due on the second week of school, for instance.) All I'll say before our feature presentation is that, if you can't remember what happened in the previous installment, have no fear. Since the two halves of the story also had quite a bit of time between them back when I first wrote it, I included a helpful summary of Part I at the beginning of this one, for the benefit of my class, and it's yours to read now, too. (Plus, you can always go back to the post from June 14th and refresh your memory.) I’m sure every one of you remembers where I left off in my story. But just in case, I will explain the characters. Aaron M. Gottier- The main character is a detective and a new kid in school. Referred to in the story as: Me, I Watsin A. Name- Aaron’s friend who isn’t too smart. Loves Shakespeare plays. Has glasses, buck teeth, black hair, and is toothpick-thin. Referred to as: Watsin Mrs. Yug-doog- Aaron’s favorite teacher who makes even the first two weeks of school interesting. She’s Japanese and is skinny and dark-skinned. Referred to as: Mrs. Yug-doog Floda Reltih- The nastiest substitute teacher you could ever imagine. She is heavyset and has an eyepatch. Her black-gray hair is in a beehive hairdo like Marge Simpson. Referred to as: Mrs. Reltih The story so far: When I came to school, Mrs. Yug-Doog wasn’t there. I find out that Mrs. Reltih was to be our teacher. She handed out demerits like cigars after a birth. I found out that Mrs. Yug-doog was sick and that she left her pill prescription in her son’s (Dik-doog’s) backpack. That’s where I left off. The Nasty Substitute Part II or Don’t Judge a Book by Its Cover by Aaron M. Gottier I knew where the prescription was, but now I had to get it. I reached for the hall pass and quickly scurried out the door. I sneaked around, peeking nervously around corners and hurrying across hallways. The only thing missing from the scene was the theme song from Mission Impossible. I peeked around a corner and gasped. A teacher was quickly coming down that hallway! I looked around desperately for a hiding place. The only thing I saw that would work was a particularly wide orange fifth grade locker. It was probably a factory defect. I opened it, tossed all the things out of it, and stepped in. I shut the door not a moment to soon! I could hear the teacher’s footsteps pass in front of the locker. I heard her annoying, whining voice say, “My, my. What a mess.” (A door creaked open) “Whoever has locker 47, your stuff is all over the floor. Come put it into your locker.” I shuddered. Her voice sounded like a siren! I heard her walk away. Then I heard footsteps pounding in my direction. I heard someone mumbling angrily as they opened the locker. I then stared into the pitch white face of a startled girl. With a scream, she fainted. “Well, nice to see you, too!” I said as I stepped out and headed for the first grade lockers. I reached them and found Dik-doog’s. I threw it open and fumbled around in his backpack. There it was! The prescription! Now if I could give it to Mrs. Yug-doog somehow today or tomorrow morning, she could come back to school tomorrow! I turned around and bumped into the fat stomach of the principal, Mr. Bunksquee. I gasped and quickly stuffed the prescription into my pocket. He questioned me in his whiny voice. “Just what are we doing looking through little kids’ backpacks? You know the school rules. Respect other people’s property. You have a demerit!” “But I already got four demerits from Mrs. Reltih! Now I have a detention!” “So be it!” snapped Mr. Bunksquee. He led me to the sixth grade room. He was just about to open the door when he saw a horrible sight through the door window. Mrs. Reltih was yelling something at a kid. She then socked him in the face. “Never mind about your demerits!” said the white-faced Mr. Bunksquee just before he hit the floor. I shook my head. Adults. No way to control their surprise. I ran up the steps, head over heels with the idea of getting Mrs. Yug-doog back and fell down the steps, heels over head with unconsciousness. After waking up, I rearranged my bones, walked up the steps, and took the prescription, an envelope, a stamp, and a pen out of my pocket. (I’m such a packrat!) I scrawled Mrs. Yug-doog’s address down on the envelope, put the stamp on, and stuck the prescription inside. Thank goodness Mrs. Yug-doog was in the same zip code as the school! Now the prescription would get to her tomorrow. I raced outside. I could see the mailman coming in the distance. Then a hand pounded down on my shoulder. It was Mrs. Reltih! “Oh, hi. I was just going to mail Mrs. Yug-doog’s prescription to her so she can come back to school tomorrow,” I gulped. “Don’t you want me to stay?” her overly-friendly voice asked. “You aren’t going anywhere, sonny! I still need to get total revenge on this wicked class!” her now-nasty voice snapped. I thought it was hopeless until I saw Watsin behind Mrs. Reltih. I threw the envelope to him. He caught it and handed it to the mailman as he pulled up. “Nooo!” yelled Mrs. Reltih as she ran after the mailman and soon disappeared. I glanced at my watch. It was time to pack up. The next morning we didn’t even have a substitute. A puzzled Mr. Bunksquee led us into the cafeteria. We watched an eternal filmstrip until eleven thirty. (I needed to get more sleep anyway.) I awoke by hearing some of my fellow classmates muttering. They were asking kids if they knew what happened to Mrs. Reltih. They were wondering why we didn’t have a substitute. (I figured that Mrs. Reltih had chased the mail truck so far that she’d gotten lost.) I became angry. I was angry that the kids hadn’t tried to help us get rid of Mrs. Reltih. I was angry that Watsin and I weren’t being honored for being the only ones brave enough to get rid of her. “You are all cowards!" I exploded. “Watsin and I took great risks to try to get rid of Mrs. Reltih, but you guys were too scared! Since I’m new in this school, I wanted to get to know some of you, but no one wants to get to know cowards!” I sat shaking back down. Watsin started clapping for me. “Shut up!” I snapped. Kids were looking at me with expressions of hurt on their faces. “What are you looking at?” I asked rudely. Just then, Mr. Bunksquee came back into the room. He took us back into our sixth grade room. I groaned. There, at the teacher’s desk, was Mrs. Reltih! She must’ve given up chasing the mail truck and come back to the school recently. When Mr. Bunksquee left, she grabbed Watsin and me by the collar and slammed us against the wall. She sneered, “This’ll be great!” She threw me into the air. As I zoomed back to the ground, I saw a flash of light. At first I excitedly thought I was going to heaven. I looked up and only saw that Melissa’s black camera for show-and-tell had taken a picture. Mrs. Reltih threw Watsin onto the ground and raised a ruler in the air. She smiled nastily. “Which one of you wants to be whipped first?” I smiled nervously at Watsin. “Well, buddy, at least we’re in this together.” “I know. I’ll whip both of you at the same time!” the not-too-brilliant Mrs. Reltih laughed as if she’d thought of the best idea in the world. She quickly brought the ruler down. I braced myself, but the whipping never came. Instead, I heard a high voice call out, “Mrs. Reltih, what are you doing?” I looked up, surprised. It was Mrs. Yug-doog! “W-well, these boys tripped, you see,” stammered Mrs. Reltih. “And I-I am holding my ruler because-” “Because you were going to whip us!!” I interrupted. “That’s not true!!” yelled Mrs. Reltih. We began arguing. “QUIET!” said Mrs. Yug-doog tiredly. “Aaron, do you realize that if you are lying to me, a teacher, you will get a detention?” I nodded. “Do you, Mrs. Reltih, realize that if you are lying, you could be arrested for child abuse?” Mrs. Reltih nodded. “I just don’t know who to believe!” “Believe Aaron, Mrs. Yug-doog! Mrs. Reltih has been very mean to us. She gave me this black eye!” an angry boy said. Kids rose out of their chairs and walked toward Mrs. Reltih, murmuring their agreement. “That’s not true! Would you take kids’ words over an adult’s?” asked Mrs. Reltih. Mr. Bunksquee had been listening through the door, and right then he came in the classroom and told about seeing Mrs. Reltih giving a kid a black eye. The leader of the rebellion (his name was “Jason”) tapped his black eye. “They have no proof!” shrieked a very scared Mrs. Reltih as she backed away from the human wall that was swiftly moving towards her. “Yes, we do!” smiled Jason in delight. He ripped the picture out of Melissa’s instant-developing camera. It showed Mrs. Reltih holding Watsin against the wall with me in the air. Mrs. Reltih was now backed up against the wall, totally beaten. Her face was white. That proof did it. Mrs. Yug-doog now knew exactly who to believe. “Come with me!” she demanded as she led the terrified Mrs. Reltih out the door. A wild cheer went up as all the adults, including Mr. Bunksquee, left the room. Everyone was happy except for me. “Listen everyone,” I ordered as I stood at the podium. “Hello! LISTEN!!” Watsin, get their attention.” Watsin drew in his breath and let out the loudest, longest belch anyone has ever heard on this side of the Mississippi. Everyone stopped and stared at him, including me. “Hey, it worked!” he grinned sheepishly. I shook my head, marveling at the incredible unintelligence of my friend. “I just want to say that I’m sorry for calling you all cowards. I, myself, was scared to death just before when Mrs. Reltih had us on the floor! You guys stood up for me, though. That was anything but cowardly. I judged you all permanently by your first appearance. No one should ever do that. Thank you.” I was pleased at the effects of my speech. People were saying the usual “It’s all right. No problem” to me. Some were taking oaths not to do what I had done. Watsin had burst into tears. Mrs. Yug-doog came back into the room. “Okay, class, take out your whale reports. Yes, they were due today.” A kid asked her why she was back in school. “It’s the strangest thing,” puzzled Mrs. Yug-doog. “Today I received my pill prescription in the mail. So I took it to the pharmacy and got more.” I exchanged a knowing glance with Watsin. A kid asked her what became of Mrs. Reltih. “Never you mind.” Mrs. Yug-doog demanded. But as I took out my whale report, I looked out the window. A police car pulled out of the parking lot. I’m not sure, but I think the person in the back with handcuffs on had a beehive hairdo and an eyepatch. THE END | 
