Phantom wall

Lunch break. As always, we find ourselves at the far end of the school square, like leftovers stuck in a drain. All three of us are deep in our own thoughts. Even Slug isn’t his usual chatty self. Shadow is completely absent. An interview at her asylum seekers center, I believe.
    Time seems to drag, but I’m sure it has nothing to do with Slug this time. Finally, Gnat gets up. “Time,” he commands.
  Not in the mood to fight him, I get up. Slug, however, remains seated on the ground, raising an enormous sandwich so slowly to his mouth that it will take at least ten minutes before he even takes his first bite.
    “Come on, moon-face, we need to go. Now!” Gnat urges, more agitated than usual.
    It still amazes me that Gnat has turned out to be the most punctual of all three of us. Who would have thought? Yet, here we are. Despite his constant grumbling about the strict school schedule, I can't recall a single time when he was actually late. Last… always. Late… never. There can only be one explanation for this uncharacteristic behavior—he's afraid. Despite all his tough talk and bluster, he doesn't want to risk a trip to the vice-principal's office, because he may be many things, but being brave isn't one of them. Look at him, impeccably dressed in something very white, straight from his father's wardrobe, tapping his leather brogues impatiently on the black tiles.
    “Only... one... more...,” Slug replies, unfazed and oblivious to the anger he's provoking. Finally, Gnat turns around and starts walking toward the front door.
  “Suit yourself, Frog-brain. It's your call. Come on, Fuel-head, the gymnasium is at the far end in the east wing. We need to hurry.” He doesn’t even wait for a response, confident that I’ll follow. And I do. I must have a higher tolerance for super-annoying, über-obnoxious tiny people than I realized. Must be Gran’s genes.”
    Before we enter, Gnat turns back one more time, but when he sees that Slug still hasn’t taken his first bite, he steps resolutely over the threshold. The corridors are already deserted, and after just two steps, something happens that we've been dreading all year. Simultaneously, all the classroom doors close, as if responding to an inaudible signal. Lessons have started, and for the first time, we’re actually late.
    Gnat starts running, and I follow. The sound of our footsteps echoes sharply off the walls.
    “This building gets on my nerves,” Gnat pants a few meters ahead of me. “Sometimes, it feels like we’re wandering through the intestines of a huge monster.” He’s right, the building feels even creepier when it’s completely empty, but I don’t respond—I just want to reach the changing rooms as quickly as possible.
    “To the right,” I command. Gnat reacts instantly, knowing I’m more familiar with the school than he is.

    BAM!

    “Sh********t! What a dick move, Sulfur-brain!” He furiously rubs his forehead, which has turned bright red from the impact with the wall. I’m stunned.
    “But... but... this wall isn’t supposed to be here,” I stammer.
    “Don’t bullshit me. This is no time for pranks; we’re already late as it is.” My initial spark of sympathy quickly fades.
    “Cut it out, Mosquito. This... this isn’t right. This wall isn’t supposed to be here. It’s not on the map.”
    “And now excuses, too... lame.”
    “No, I’m serious. I know the school’s layout inside and out, and this wall isn’t part of it. We’ve taken this route countless times, remember?” Gnat’s painful frown shifts to a strange mix of defiance and suspicion.
    “Tssssht, you’re right. What the f…?”



“Later,” I cut him off, rather rudely. “First, we need to find another route. Maybe the corridor on the first floor.” Gnat nods. But before we even start running toward the staircase, we freeze as a cracked, gritty voice echoes down the stairs. It’s Williams? And he’s singing? A lullaby?
    “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high…” Within a few seconds, he’ll be down and see us, and then we will be in trouble. Being out here during lessons is a capital offense at this school. We dive between the long rows of coats and bags hanging from the wall in a feeble attempt to hide. “Twinkle, twinkle…
  Suddenly, the singing is abruptly cut off by a voice from above. “Williams! Stop that childish singing.”
    “Good afternoon, Master Scroptz,” Williams replies, without a trace of stress or worry. “Those who don’t embrace their inner child will never truly grow up.” Despite the situation, I can’t help but smile. It’s something Gran would have said. A sharp poke between my ribs is my reward.
    “Don’t be a smartass, Williams. I’m fed up with your arrogance, especially after that little incident with that black girl.” Now it’s Gnat who needs to be held back.
    “Ah, Master Scroptz, I’m sorry you feel that way, but then again, a day not fought is a day not lived, I suppose?” Williams says nothing offensive, yet it’s clear Scroptz will interpret it as an attack anyway.
    “You’d better start worrying about yourself, Williams. The vice-principal wants you in her office.”
    “The list,” Williams sighs, and for the first time, his voice loses a bit of its lightheartedness.
    “Is there news about the list?” asks Scroptz, with a sudden edge to his voice. “Did they get it last week? The vice-principal has been very secretive.”
    “No, I can’t say they did, Master Scroptz, although they managed to get inside.”
    “They’ve been inside? Again! Where you, the Legendary Williams, couldn’t? This is sweet. How overrated you are, Williams? Teacher gone. List gone. The whole guild in disarray, and you do... nothing? Goddamnit, you with your so-called powers and abilities were hired for occasions like this! This whole Kwintens disaster will cost you your head, and to be honest, I can’t wait. Don’t forget, vice-principal’s office in an hour.” The sound of agitated footsteps disappears up the stairs and fades away.
    My thoughts are racing. How, in heaven’s name, did I end up in this conversation? It’s abundantly clear that Scroptz hates me from day one, but to learn that I’m a recurring source of contention between him and Williams, is unreal.
    For a moment, all is quiet, and then... “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high…” Seemingly unfazed by the confrontation moments ago, Williams appears around the corner, dragging behind him a bucket filled with dirty brownish water and a mop. His eyes twinkle like the stars from the song as he walks straight toward us, despite the fact that we are still hiding between the coats and bags. “Mister Monteque, Miss Kwintens, a good afternoon to you both.”
    “Uh…” I reply cautiously, struggling to free myself from a tangle of unruly coats, while unsuccessfully trying to come up with a valid excuse.
    “…Good afternoon to you too, sir.”
    “No ‘sir’ for me, as you well know, Miss Kwintens. "It might give the impression that you think I'm old." I look at the extensive network of lines and folds that make up his face, unintentionally wondering how so much loose skin manages to stick to his skull without sliding to the ground. Williams beams happily back at me and Gnat who looks more disgruntled than ever.
    “Aren’t you supposed to be hanging from the ceiling or jumping over some wooden obstacles in gym class right now?”
    “Eh. Well…” I mumble. “Got lost.”
    “You, Miss Kwintens? You might have lost many things, but your memory is surely not one of them.” The skin around the corners of his mouth morphs into his signature bright smile.
    Gnat, however, isn’t in the mood for banter.
    “Punishment then?” he grumbles adversely. “All teachers are the same. Let's get it over with.” Williams’ smile only grows bigger.
    “Ah, that’s where you misjudge me, Mister Monteque. I’m not a teacher. I’m a janitor, or rather, I am the janitor.”
    “Same difference.”
    “Allow me then to shock your rather bleak outlook on life. No vice-principal for you today. At least, not because of me. Instead, I advise you both to hurry to your lesson and hope that the gym teacher is as lenient as I am—that is, if you are as late as you think you are.”
    “What does that even mean, old man? We’re either late or we’re not.” Despite Gnat’s overtly contemptuous tone, Williams responds, undeterred.
    “It has only happened when it has happened. To your lesson now, and quick.”
    He speaks with such surprising authority that we start walking right away. But before we’ve taken two steps toward the staircase, he stops us again.
    “Better to take the shortest route, don’t you think?” he smiles amicably, nodding to the corridor that must still be blocked by the rogue wall.
    “Fat chance, old man,” Gnat hisses, balancing so dangerously on the edge of impertinence that I’m afraid even Williams can’t let this go unpunished. 
    Quickly, I walk to the corner. “Eh... Gnat... better have a look.”
    “Why? Has a door magically appeared in the wall?”
    “No... it’s gone.” Gnat runs the last few meters. Confused, we look at each other.
    “But we didn’t...” I stammer.
    “...imagine it?” Gnat adds, but the big bump growing on his forehead, slowly turning a deep purple, proves that the wall had been very real.
    I shake my head. No time to linger on it. We still need to hurry. We sprint to the door at the end of the corridor, which leads to a narrow hallway with access to the boys' and girls' changing rooms. Gnat tears open the boys' door but stops so abruptly that I crash into him. Confused, I look over his shoulder. I expected the changing room to be completely deserted, but it’s not. It’s packed with shouting and laughing boys, fooling around while changing into their gym gear, some half-naked. I’m so stunned that I even forget to look away, despite my legendary prudishness.
    At the far end, Slug is in the middle of the slow and deliberate process of pulling up an embarrassingly long white sports sock. When he looks up, he gives us his biggest smile. “Good... there... you... are... I... knew... you... would... be... on... time…”

Training

School with an 'undo' button