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Bumps In The Night


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Dark Rider -- Part 10
by
Martin H Slusser

“I want the reports by class tomorrow, boys.”

The chalk snapped in her fingers. Mrs. Ritter scowled at the pieces. She carefully lay the chalk down and returned to her desk.

Todd, he’d have it done before he left school today. Benny, she did not doubt, would tool around with his motorcycle and forget. Then he would owe her a two thousand word report.

She sighed. Benny would shrug it off and let it wait. He simply did not care about anything but his family. He was obsessed with keeping them safe. His one redeeming character was his intense love and loyalty.

Closing her eyes, she remembered the deluge of news hungry sharks that descended on the school the day the story broke. She’d had to take the Sandy Valley children home in her car to keep them from being trampled by reporters.

The class tittered. She cleared her throat and a dead, terrified hush fell over the classroom.

Mrs. Ritter was pretty cool, but she handed out thousand word reports like they were Grandma’s candy or something.

There was a joke around school that she was sawing down a tree on her farm and a copper head snake came out and bit her.

Then it curled up and died. Yo, man, like yo.

Benny threw a sly wink at Todd. He shook his head. Most teachers would have run him down to the office with a note. Not old lady Ritter. She liked to make the kids suffer all by herself.

He tried to get Todd’s attention without the old battle-axe at the back of the room seeing him.

Ducking her head behind a text book, she disregarded Benny and the noise he was making.

Sullen, Todd glared at his history book. He shook his head. Benny hissed a little louder. He signed at Todd, hands barely moving.

Todd slumped, head down. He made a slight nod.

Smirking, Benny wrote out the assignment Mrs. Ritter had chalked on the board. Sinking into his seat, he pushed away the pain. His ribs settled into a tolerable throb.

Mrs. Ritter patted the soft and grandmotherly curls on her head and gave an evil smile. Poor Benny.

Poor, poor Benny.

My, but this was gonna be fun.

©2002 StoriesByEmail.com

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