When we enter the classroom, Miss Bleach seems to be even more distracted and confused than she normally is. “Eh, eh, yes, yes...” she mumbles to nobody in particular, going through a huge stack of paper on her desk. “Class 6-B, right?” But when she glances over the top of her half-moon spectacles, she dives right back into the fast-growing chaos in front of her. Even she can’t mistake a group of third graders for graduation students. “Where’s the schedule? It must be here somewhere. Ah, here! Oh no, that’s last year’s... Aaaah, here it is! No panic, children, I will know who you are in a minute.”
Miss Bleach’s general forgetfulness and overall vagueness are legendary, but today they have reached Olympic status. I like her. I think she’s endearing and cute. Gnat, however, hates her with venomous conviction. Even on a good day, she pushes all his I-want-to-hurt-you-buttons, but today his irritation levels rise alarmingly high. Somehow, he just can’t deal with innocent people. It seems he needs to drag everybody down to his own level so he can hate us as much as he hates himself.
The smell of ozone and the soft crackle of electricity make me sit upright, ready to intervene. Miss Bleach, however, seems to be blissfully unaware of the explosive effect she has on Gnat and directs her first question right at him.
“What was the assignment for today again, Casper?” The crackling next to me grows so loud that it must be audible at the front of the classroom. I kick him under the table, but the crackling only intensifies. Small, mischievous lights begin to glow in his eyes. This is getting beyond my control. I try to signal Shadow for help, but she signs back that she doesn’t know how.
Quickly I answer Miss Bleach’s question for him, hoping that it will defuse the situation. “Chapter nine, Miss.”
“Ah, thank you, Mariette. And what book?”
“We only have one book, Miss.”
Next to me, Gnat grumbles under his breath. “Mind your own business, Tinderstick. She’s hopeless. It’s time she wakes up.”
“Please come to the front, Casper, and explain the process of osmosis on the blackboard to us.” I hide my head in my hands. What is she doing? Asking him to come to the front of the class is absolutely the worst idea ever, but Miss Bleach watches happily as Gnat slowly walks up to her. “Start with drawing a tube of water, and then I’ll tell you what substances to add.”
There he stands in front of the blackboard, his arms hanging limply down his body, a piece of chalk loosely between his fingertips. I know him well enough to know what goes through his angry mind. He can’t obey her. Obeying is defeat.
“Go on, Casper. If you are too nervous, I can guide you through it...” This well-meant encouragement is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The crackling increases exponentially, and the scent of ozone starts to hurt our noses. “And if you really need it, someone else can help you, of course.” Her head turns to me. “Mariette, can you come up here to help your shy friend?”
It’s the best idea she’d had so far, but it’s too late. Gnat raises his hand; Miss Bleach, and when he presses the piece of chalk against it, sparks flying from the tip. He doesn’t even pretend to write. He just presses it against the black surface, his face turned towards the floor.
Miss Bleach, still holding the blackboard with her left hand, starts to tremble as the high-voltage currents of Gnat’s anger find their way to the ground through her frail body. Her smile freezes, the trembling turns into shaking, and the shaking into bouncing until she violently moves up and down, her hand still glued to the blackboard, her hair bun nearly destroyed. Gnat seems to be in some sort of trance, unable to stop himself.
And then it gets even worse. The sparks around him begin to morph into some kind of electric animal, shooting bolts of lightning in every direction. I dive under my table for protection, and other students do the same, screaming and calling for help. Two tables to my right, Shadow panics and plunges the classroom into pitch darkness. Only the electric beast surrounding Gnat lights up the room now. I have no idea what to do—I can only pray that this ends before someone gets hurt or killed.
“Help me, Max. I can’t hold on much longer.”
“Miss Bleach? How are you in my head...?”
“No time, Max. You must stop him now, or there will be nothing left to save. Do it for your friend. I can’t reach him anymore.” She’s right. Most of the tables are toppled over, leaving the students with virtually no protection. Everyone is panicking.
“Max!”
Finally, I move. I grab my old backpack, praying it will provide enough protection against electrocution, and start pushing my way to the front of the class through the mass of wriggling and screaming students. The spark-monster around Gnat has grown bigger and more erratic, lashing out in every direction. In its center, Gnat still presses the piece of chalk against the blackboard, his face pale and contorted.
I close my eyes, raise the backpack in front of me, and start running. When I hit him, Gnat topples over with the slightest touch, the piece of chalk flying out of his hand. The monster disintegrates. Sparks fall to the ground and extinguish. Miss Bleach collapses to the floor, her eyes closed. Just before she touches the hard black tiles, I hear her voice in my head again. “Thank you, Max, you don’t disappoint.” And that’s it.
The deafening silence that follows is shattered by the door slamming against the wall. The Art, Geography, and French teachers rush in but freeze in their tracks when they see the chaos before them. Then they notice Miss Bleach and Gnat lying on the floor and hurry forward. Miss Beaufort, the French teacher, tries to help Gnat. Not a good idea, I think. I push her aside firmly. "Better let me, Miss."
Before she can regain her balance, I've knelt beside him, bracing myself for a shock that might knock me out. But when I touch him, nothing happens. Gnat must have completely depleted himself. I didn’t know that was even possible. When he opens his eyes, his characteristic piercing gaze is gone. All that's left of him is an exhausted little boy, who curls up against me like a four-year-old seeking protection from his mother.
“I messed up, Fire-face. Big time. I couldn’t stop it.” How am I supposed to react to this? I was ready to hurl every insult imaginable at him the moment he turned out to be unharmed, but now he’s like this—vulnerable and defenseless, hiding in my arms like a toddler. The only thing I can do is stroke his wild hair and whisper in his ear, “It’ll be alright, little mosquito. We’ll fix this, we’ll think of something.”
Meanwhile, the stunned teachers have helped Miss Bleach to her feet. “What’s happened, Rosemary?” asks Miss Beaufort, scanning the classroom where the students still huddle together like small frightened animals in a corner. I hold my breath. Surely our talents will be exposed now. No way we can keep it a secret anymore, but Miss Bleach does something totally unexpected; she lies.
“Well, Augustine, this is all very unfortunate. An experiment gone wrong. My mistake. Totally misjudged it. Forgot how powerful a Van de Graaff generator can be. Totally destroyed. Nothing left of it.” The face of Augustine Beaufort looks at her in disbelief.
“Van de Graaff generator? Is all this caused by a Van de Graaff generator? You can’t be serious, Rosemarie.” Miss Bleach looks her right in the eye, uncharacteristically bright and focused.
“Yes, Augustine, a Van de Graaff generator.”
And then something happens I didn’t see coming. The expression of disbelief on the faces of all three teachers slowly changes from incredulity to acceptance as if they have been persuaded after a long discussion. The shock in their eyes is replaced by a glassy gaze when they speak as one: “Yes, of course, a Van de Graaff generator.”
“Better be more careful next time, Rosemary,” adds the geography teacher jovially. Not a trace of suspicion left in his voice.
“I will, George, it won’t happen again.”
“Well, we will go now then,” says the art teacher. “Ha-ha, never a dull moment with you.” The door shuts behind them.
Gnat groans, recognizing how he has misjudged the teacher he hates so much. He’s saved by the person he almost electrocuted. “Stupid fuck,” he mumbles to himself while I help him up.
Miss Bleach, who seems to recuperate amazingly fast, addresses the whole class. “Well, boys and girls, better not speak to others about our little ‘experiment.’ No need to alarm your parents, right? Nobody is looking forward to an avalanche of angry letters.” Her voice is uncharacteristically clear and without her usual vagueness. She’s persuasive, very persuasive. The whole class responds as one. “No, Miss Bleach.” I look at her in awe. How does she do this?
“Let’s call it a day then. Go to the canteen so I can clean up this mess.” When everybody starts moving, the spell seems to break. Miss Bleach is once again as distracted as ever. “See you tomorrow, darlings!” she calls after us when we exit the room. “Tomorrow, we will pick up where we left off today.” Nobody feels the urge to tell her that tomorrow is Saturday.
Outside, when all other students are out of earshot, I’m determined to make something very clear. “If you do something like this one more time, you will never see me again. I may not have much control over my talent, but I’m pretty sure that our talents are not meant to harass other students or take revenge on teachers we don’t like. If we keep doing this, we will not be any better than the Flintstones, probably worse.” If I had thought Gnat and Shadow would try to fight me, I was wrong. Their eyes are fixed on the ground. Damn! I can’t stay angry when they are like this, even if I want to.
“Alright, alright, no real harm done. It could have been much worse. But no more. Agreed... Casper?” I dodge the backpack Gnat throws at me, but on his pale face a little relieved smile lights up, grateful for the diversion I offer him. “You better watch it yourself, Mariette.” And then we all laugh.