It was Ridgeway Talent Share Day. Miss S still hadn’t been back to school, but there she was in the audience. She looked a little greenish, but she smiled when I caught her eye.
The lights dimmed.
It was time.
Marty was first.
I had written a little poem to introduce each person.
He juggles tomatoes round and round.
They squish like guts when they hit the ground.
Marty dropped 17 tomatoes! The stage was covered in guts. It was awesome.
Then it was time for Savanna and her “jokes.”
Savanna’s jokes will make you laugh,
but what if her hula hoop saws her in half?
That one didn’t happen, of course. But what kind of cool supervillain tool THAT would be. A hula hoop that wore away your enemy, right in the middle!
Then it was time for Leila and the piano.
Piano’s smile is bony white
Will it bite?
Leila went on for hours! And it was all soft and sweet, and there weren’t even any words. What is the point of music without words?
Finally, all the kids had gone. There were singers and breakdancers (who were really bad and just looked like turtles stuck on their backs) and drummers and a bunch of other stuff. Everybody got to share their “talent.”
Then it was time for Mr. Jones. The Vice Principal was going to do a dramatic monolog, whatever that was. One of the 5th graders who had to sit through it last year said dramatic monolog meant boring speech. Scratch that. LONG boring speech.
Mr. Jones was in the wings where the audience couldn’t see him yet. He was mouthing words, but he wasn’t making any noise. It was like a troll was lodged in his throat, gobbling up each word before it had a chance to come out. Mr. Jones waved his arms around, like the guys at airports who are showing planes which way to go.
This was going to be bad.