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 wrong binder.
“Yes, Connor?” I ask, my back still to the class.
Chairs rub against tiles as the students shift in their chairs.
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 classmates.
“You can go with Dylan—”
Did she just say my name?
“—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 room.
“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 be fun.”
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.”