Miss Grasshopper - Chapter One

Suzette (Sue to everyone but her mom) stepped into the back of the room, then moved to the side. There were thirty-seven students in the classroom, but they didn’t spare her too much attention. All of them, or most of them at least, were focused on the tablets and integrated desk-computers they had.

The Quincy Special Education Centre was perhaps one of the most prestigious schools in all of Boston, which was saying something. The mega city had a few thousand schools, and some of the private institutions were quite impressive.

There was a reason that this school, Quincy SEC (or Q-SEC), was the best, and it could mostly be traced back to one person.

Suzette dreamed of being a teacher ever since... well, it had been a long time. It was something she aspired to from a young age, in any case, and now she was well on her way to becoming just that. A few more months of internship, and she’d be teaching her own classes.

Unfortunately, no matter how much she wanted to be a teacher, she knew she’d never be as good as Melanie.

The door to the front of the room opened, and the students perked up. Tablets were laid down, screens were returned to their home pages. It was a small miracle that someone could pry their attention away from their screens without even being in the room yet.

Then Melanie waltzeds in.

It wasn’t an exaggeration, the young woman spun into the room with a laugh on her lips and a smile in her eyes. Her dress, this ancient summer dress, far too modest to fit in anywhere, fluttered out around her. It was covered in a pattern of cartoonish bugs and splashes of colour. “Hello everyone!” Melanie said.

The children chorused a cacophony of hellos right back. Most of them settled on “Hello Miss Fizz-Snap!”

Suzette hugged her own tablet closer to her chest. There was something... magical  about Melanie. She didn’t belong in such a dirty, messed up world, and yet here she was.

Melanie tapped the board at the front of the room, and like magic, it came on and text scrawled across it in a rainbow hue. “Fraction!” she declared. “They’re not just slices of a pie, but windows into a new world! A world of bits and bobs, broken up to share and admire.”

These were all special needs kids, Suzette knew. They had comportment issues, or problems keeping focused. She had some classes with them, on occasion, and it was a nightmare to get even half to pay attention.

Melanie had each and every one captivated from day one. “Tommy, dear,” she said as she tugged a tissue from a sleeve and placed it on the desk of a student near the front. “In our class, we embark on adventures with our minds and hearts, not in our noses.” Her wink was a shared secret, and somehow it turned a reprimand into a joke that even Tommy was in on.

Suzette laughed with the students, then let out a wistful sigh as Melanie turned her attention to the board. It flicked to a new screen, with colourful explanations of today’s maths lesson, not that Melanie seemed to pay the board any mind. It was an aid, a visual to help the kids that needed to see to understand. Instead, Melanie launched into a story, a silly tale that hid lessons anyway.

She asked questions, always to someone who knew the answer, or she’d coax it out of them. In those brief moments, it felt... almost naughty. Melanie would single a kid out, and give them her entire, undivided attention, she’d listen to every word, nod and smile and listen, then she’d guide them to the right answer with a gentle nudge or two.

Sue would give a lot to be the centre of that attention.

Class was going on as it usually did when Sue received a ping on her augs. Just a little notification in the corner of her vision, but one which was red and flashing. She noticed the way Melanie stiffened for a moment as well.

There were only a few things that could poke through her ad-block that way. She made sure she had a good one, after all, and was very careful about permissions. A red flashing warning, one that Melanie received as well...

She swallowed and moved to the back of the room, making sure that the door was closed, then she touched her thumb to the electronic handle and swiped right.

There was a faint clunk as the door’s emergency lock engaged.

Melanie did the same with the front door, all without interrupting her lesson.

There were two reasons the teacher alarm might go off. A school shooting, or an alien incursion. Sue was desperately hoping it was a false alarm. Barring that... the shooting would be the better option.

She opened the warning.

Quincy Special Education Centre All Staff WARNING

-THIS IS NOT A DRILL-

Coastal Incursion Detected.

Remain in Class.

Lock Doors and Shutter Windows.

Keep Students Calm.

Gunlockers Auto Unlock On.

Sue found herself shaking. No, this was... there had been a coastal invasion a few years ago. A swarm of aliens rushing up the beaches and over the coastal walls. It had taken the militia and a lot of mercenaries days to stem the tide. It was only when a few samurai came in and bombed the shores that the aliens stopped coming, and by then thousands had died.

But there was nothing to worry about. They had built newer, better walls since. There were more people on the payroll for defence. Higher taxes too. She remembered her dad complaining about those.

Melanie clapped her hands. “Okay my little critters, it’s time for a pop-quiz! You’ll find a worksheet on your tablets. Nothing too hard, I’m sure you’ll all do great if you give it your all!” Melanie sent everyone in the room, Sue included, a small packet with some worksheets. It was the typical colourful sheet that she customised in her spare time. More pages with fewer questions, and little doodles on the sides that usually had small hints tucked away in them. Sue had always wondered how Melanie found the time.

Then the woman at the front looked up and caught Sue’s eyes, and she could feel the worry in them before it was hidden behind a reassuring smile.

Melanie was just as worried as Sue, but she wasn’t going to let it show in front of the kids.

Sue moved to the side of the class, meeting Melanie halfway at the teacher’s desk there. “Do you have permission for the box, Sue?” Melanie asked.

Sue shook her head. “I’m still just a temp.”

“Right, that’s fine then,” Melanie said. “Did you have the safety classes yet?”

Sue nodded. She had. Twice a month for the first six months. It had felt both perfunctory, and like it wasn’t nearly enough, but the lessons were mandatory.

Really, she just had to take the subway to a training building on the edge of the city where a digital instructor went over how to load and unload a gun, how to check if it was safe, how to store it, then it went over how to shoot. Not a real one, but a cheap plastic knock-off that fired little pellets.

The safe tucked into the wall behind the desk, with its bio-lock, had real guns.

Sue gulped as Melanie casually picked up a folding rifle and placed it on the desk. Then she grabbed a small handgun, still in a sheath, and gave it to Sue. “Just in case.”

“Right,” Sue said.

The flashing red alert returned, and she froze up for a moment before Melanie touched her shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” Melanie said.

She opened the warning, and almost flinched.

WALL BREACHED

Escort All Students and Staff to Primary Shelter.

Remain Calm and Orderly.

Melanie clapped her hands together, a big smile returning as if this was nothing at all. “Hey, my little bunnies! Pick up your tablets please. We’re going on a bit of an adventure! Hup hup and hop into a line, just like we practised. That’s right, in alphabetical order. Sue, could you be a dear and unlock the door for us?”

She didn’t explain what was going on, but some of the kids seemed to have caught on to the undercurrent of stress anyway. Mostly from Sue, probably. She was feeling twitchier than ever as she rushed to the door and unlocked it.

Melanie stepped up to the very front, rifle casually in her arms as if it belonged there as she lead the class out of the room in single-file. Soon enough, Sue followed after, keeping just behind the last student.

There were other classes in the corridors. None as organised as Melanie’s... at least, until she got to them. Melanie helped one student to her feet, then gave her a hug and patted her back until she stopped crying. Then she praised another class for being so orderly and neat, her voice carrying through the corridor to anotherother less-neat group who seemed to suddenly snap into their lines.

Everything was going well until they reached the bunker.

It was a building smack in the middle of the courtyard at the back of the school. A cement lump that opened up to a ramp leading downwards. The entrance had a set of scanners and a door that quickly opened and closed after checking on each student and staff member.

Melanie stepped to the side, allowing her group in, then helping others, until, finally, it was only Sue and a few of the staff left. “Are we sure that’s everyone?” Melanie asked, her worry finally showing now that the students were safe.

“Everyone that checked in this morning. Not a single student unaccounted for,” the gym teacher said. He nodded, then stepped in himself.

Sue went next.

The door stayed shut.

She received another message from the school over their aug-network.

Suzette Smith, Intern, Non-Admissable.

***