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"Come
on in, Mrs. Andrews. How've you been?"
"Well..."
I started.
"Ah...you're
not the only one," Mr. Dilk, the principal of my school continued,
"everybody hates the hell out of February. But you look grand. Splendid.
Have a seat while I get a hold of Ms. McGwirk and the good doctor."
Out
of habit, I headed for one of the hard browns. But Dilk, while he was
mumbling instructions into the phone, hissed at me to take the
comfortable chair.
I
did.
He
drummed his fingers on the desk and smiled a knowing smile at me while
nodding his head up and down.
"Relax
Mrs. Andrews. There's nothing to be alarmed about. We'll get this
business about your daughter all straightened out in no time. Of course,
I haven't had the pleasure of teaching Annabel this year, but I'll tell
you one thing. That little gal is a personality in her own right. She
has a real mind of her own."
Fat
lot you know about it Silky Dilky.
"I
guess that's true, most of the time," I said.
"You
bet it is. And we at the Barton encourage that kind of spunk and zip. We
like to see spunk and zip."
Spunk
and zip? Spunk and zip! It sounded like a book about two Swedish
brothers. The Adventures of Spunk and Zip. Spunk and Zip in the Frozen
Fjord. Spunk and Zip in the Sunken Ship. See Spunk zip. Good lord, was I
going mad.
"I'm
sorry," I said, "you were saying?"
"As
long as its accompanied by mature self-discipline and a sense of
obligation to herself and her school."
Jeckle
to Hyde in mid-sentence. The feet were now on the floor. The cigarette
had been stamped out viciously in the ashtray. The hands were clasped
together, with tapping index fingers. This is the church and this is
the steeple. Open the doors and kill all the people. And the smile
had vanished completely.
When
do we get the long nails, and the fangs, I wondered.
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Freaky
Friday