Back in the 80s I had a form teacher in secondary school who was dubbed “Mr. Cool.” He never bothered us much unlike the rest of the teaching staff.
In fact, I think one of the teachers, who taught us history, quit her profession because she lost her patience with the boys. Think Gremlins after being in contact with water.
Our boisterous class was situated near the Principal’s office. It also didn’t help we were near the staff room. This meant regular visits from the Vice Principal, an evil personality from Hell’s depth that even made the Vampire in Salem’s Lot looked saintly. We shall call him, “Mr. Evil.”
Mr. Evil enjoyed punishing the class. He even got physical with some of the boys simply for being noisy and restless. Mr. Evil also had a habit of making us stay behind after school till late evening. This happened often.
On one occasion, Mr. Evil ordered us all to come back to school on Saturday. The punishment? We had to march around the school compound a hundred times. And after that, climb up and down the four-stories high school a hundred times as well. This infuriated many of the boys. So they decided to teach Mr. Evil a lesson. Let’s just say Mr. Evil needed a new paint work for his shiny brown car afterwards.
On Monday, my form teacher came into class. He sat at the edge of his table, one leg up, the other resting on the floor, and lit a cigarette. He looked at each and everyone one of us, and then said: “You people are stupid. You should’ve waited until the end of the year when the school term ended to take your revenge.” We certainly didn’t expect that.
Only 3 boys were caught. Their parents had to pay for the damages, and they were expelled.
The rest of us did not rat on each other. When we were being interrogated individually, I came up with an excuse I saw nothing. I was busy tending to a kitten in my school bag that I had picked up at the school’s car park. It was the honest truth. I had a witness – the janitor – as I gave the kitten to him later. He saw me picked it up and tend to it while we were marching.
You are probably wondering: Did I participate in damaging the car? Well, as you know a rat’s bite can be fatal. Good thing I had a feline friend to protect me.
