It was the same every year, new comers, applause and
flowers; a welcome back breakfast to toast the new work year. Lots of hugs and
kisses because after all we are in a tropical country and that is how we greet
people here. The foreigners are intrigued by all this kindness and a bit
startled too for in their culture you greet just with a hand shake.
Later on we are placed into an auditorium where we
need to listen to the director for about an hour, talk about what was done the
previous year and what will be done or needs to be done this year. Some people
are happy, some frustrated and the new comers just smile although they do not
understand a word that is being said of this new language that they are yet to
learn.
After this day we are off to planning our classes and
getting ready to receive our students in the few days ahead. Some people need
to work more than others for they need to rearrange their classroom furniture
and hand up pictures and posters and make the atmosphere more pleasant so as to
make the little ones fall in with love their new place and most of all make
them want to be there.
For most of us, it is just getting ourselves ready
with notebooks and planning. Of course there is so much red tape that you end
up doing most of the reports even after classes have begun. It takes a while
getting used to all of this.
Deep down inside for some reason, I knew this year was
going to be different. But it wasn´t a good different, just a different that
gave me the chills.
A couple of months had gone by after the glorious
breakfast, when one afternoon as we were enjoying some coffee in the teacher´s
room. The director came in to make an announcement. He didn´t look happy.
People started whispering to each other what it could be. As soon as he began
his speech, he was interrupted by his secretary who was carrying a box. It was
a simple box covered in red and white wrapping paper.
The director opened the box and turned pale. I thought
he was going to pass out and was hoping some one would catch him. He turned
around and threw up all over the floor. His secretary quickly helped him to a
chair. The gym teacher went to the box and looked in it. He apparently had a
stronger stomach. He saw there was a note. His trembling hands took the note
and with a muffled voice he read it loud and clear.
`I am here to do what one must do. This was the first
of many. Remove from the box and show it to the others so they can know what is
in store for their future. I am among you.´
Some people started to panic. The gym teacher cut open
the box and everyone saw the most horrific scene. It was the coordinators head
on a silver platter.
After recovering from the shock, most people tried to
run out of the room but the doors were locked. Some of the women fainted. Some
of the men started to cry. The director regained his strength and asked
everyone to calm down. Cell phones were out and no one could call the police.
It was a bizarre situation. The signals were down.
I just sat around observing some people´s reactions.
There were some people that started laughing, which could have meant hysteria,
they were just nervous. But others I do not think that was the case. This
particular coordinator was not appreciated by some. But in my mind, I decided
to erase this thought. Despite the fact that he was not liked, no one would
want to see his head on a silver platter.
A chill ran up my spine as I looked at one of the
windows, a hand covered in blood holding a Swiss knife was slowly moving as if
the murderer were waving. I knew who the hand belonged to. I had to tell the
director who it was. But then again, it belonged to one of the most popular
teachers. The director wouldn´t believe me and would think that I was just
slandering. I was stuck.
There was a loud noise; people held their breaths and
the sound was repeated. It seemed as if all the doors to the room were being
locked from the outside. Then, there were screams.
(Written January 10, 2015 – This was based on a dream
that I had.)
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| Google Images : Peter Hudspith |
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