Most teachers have
eyes in the back of their heads, but in reality, that’s just a ruse. Teachers actually have an extra ear on top of
their heads. You might not normally
notice as it’s hidden beneath their hair.
What? Your teacher has no hair? That’s no scalp, that’s a bald cap covering
the extra appendage. Trust me, I
know. I am a teacher after all. You may think it odd to have an ear growing
from the crown of your head, but don’t worry, we’re not born with them. They are an added, and also really helpful, adjustment that most teachers
go through. You see, this ear doesn’t
hear normal sounds. Instead it...
I lower my hands from the keyboard and sigh. Maybe it’s too soon to reveal this
secret. If the students find out, there
might be an uproar. Chaos could then
naturally ensue and nothing we taught would get learned. Further, once parents found out, there would
probably be trouble for the Department Head as well. But at the same time, to keep this a secret..?
The bell chimes through the school, startling me from my
reverie. End of lunch. I close the program and shut down the
computer. Grabbing my afternoon binder,
I then push the office door open, turn off the lights and head to class. The hallway rush consumes me immediately as
students bustle to and fro, nattering back and forth to each other as they
finish their lunches and head to class.
It should hit her now!
I turn on my heels and catch the ball of paper before it
meets my face. “Nice try, Bradley.” I
smile at the blond youth who stands, mouth open beside a garbage can down the
hall. I toss the ball back at him. “Garbage.
Get to class.” I don’t wait for
him to close his mouth before I pivot and continue.
How did she..? the
thought trails off as I turn down another hall.
“Find your seats, please.” I walk into Room 219 as the
changeover time ends. Twenty-one pairs
of eyes stare over their desks at me as I walk to the chalkboard. With my back to the students, I pick up a
piece of blue chalk and begin writing the day’s agenda nice and big.
Arg! I brought the
“Yes, Connor?” I ask, my back still to the class.
Chairs rub against tiles as the students shift in their
I finish writing my current line and then turn to look at a
well muscled boy with shaggy auburn hair sitting in the second row. His hand is half raised in the air and he
stares back at me, mouth set in an uncertain smile.
“You brought the wrong binder, right?”
He gives a curt nod and then looks sideways at his
“You can go with Dylan—”
Did she just say my
“—He spilled his water on his jeans and needs to change.”
Heads rotate in unison, as if pulled by a string, to look at
the small, dark haired boy sitting by the back window. He’s perched on the edge of his chair, legs
spread open. His torso is currently
leaning forward over his knees and his eyes peek up at me in wonder. An empty, but dripping, water bottle rests in
his right hand.
“Well, hurry up, you two.”
The two stand. Water
drips to the floor from Dylan’s pants leaving a snaking trail as they leave the
“Ms. Bea,” Leanne, my lone red head begins. I can hear the question forming in her
mind. “How did you know? Are you a mind reader or something?”
That’s the question.
Now, do I answer? I ponder for a
moment, a small smile on my lips.
“Ha! People can’t
read minds,” scoffs Richard, Leanne’s desk buddy. “Are you stupid? If anyone could, they’d end up being lab rats
and all the news casts would tell us there aliens among us or something.” He leans back in his chair and scratches his
chin. “An alien hunt... now that would
Resting my piece of chalk on the ledge beneath the board, I
let my smile widen. It probably is too
soon, but maybe someday. Right now
though, listening to thoughts might be a bit too unbelievable.
“Rich, four on the floor, please. The truth is, class,” I say with a wink,
“most teachers have eyes in the back of their heads.”