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Monday, August 15, 2011

Handful of Sand Chapter 20 Page 3

Everyone was standing in the cold looking at each other, uncertain of what to do. The students had been spreading rumors among themselves. The rumors about a fire drill or an actual fire had died out quickly with the lack of activity coming from the building. Then someone had mentioned a grenade and there had been the rumor of a terrorist attack.

That story died quickly too, since nothing had happened and everyone was still alive. The next tale after that was that it was a ghost... in daytime. The rumor that it was a false alarm never did take root. By the time the teachers came to organize them, the students were in a mixed state of anxiety, panic, disbelief and exasperation.

A teacher with a megaphone briefed everyone about the grenade in class 9-B and ordered the students to group together by class. Then the homeroom teachers took attendance to make sure that everyone was present.

When Selina's name was called, Sandy was surprised to hear a reply from just behind her. She turned around to see that her tall classmate was truly there.

When did she get there?

Sandy had not the opportunity to ask Selina anything. There were more exciting things going on. The police had arrived while attendance was being taken. They came in a couple of patrol cars and a white and blue van labeled 'Bomb Disposal', each vehicle with strobe lights flashing and sirens wailing.

Uniformed personnel kept watch around the building. The bomb disposal squad, consisting of two men, entered the building. One of them was clad in thick padded armor and a visored helmet while the other carried a metal drum.

"Selina, there's something I've been wondering," Ariel began as she turned back, "Where's Selina?"

Esper looked around. "She was here a moment ago."

Sandy too searched about. Selina was gone again.

Some time later, the policemen came out of the school building. The armored man had his helmet and gloves under an arm. Both men appeared to be at ease. They consulted with their colleagues. Then one of the policemen spoke briefly with the teachers.

Shortly after that, the students were allowed back in class, all the students except for those in class 9-B. The teacher announced that the police wanted to inspect the place. After that, the maintenance workers were going to replace the window and clear the glass.

Thus, class 9-B was assigned to one of the unused science labs. A minor benefit to having been relocated to the science lab was that the students got to seat with whomever they wanted. Sandy, of course, sat with Ariel and Esper at one of the large lab tables. Selina was back with them again.

"All right class, we've little time to waste," Ms Redgrave the history teacher said as soon as she entered the laboratory. It was already halfway through the period.

Then Ms Redgrave met a difficulty with the lesson. The students' belongings were still in class - coats, scarves and importantly, their bags, textbooks and stationery.

"Oh, bother," Ms Redgrave sighed when she realized she had the only textbook. She closed the book and thought.

Sandy hoped the lesson would be canceled so she could talk freely with her friends. She wanted to discuss what had happened earlier.

(Well, no such hope, Sandy! That was Ms Redgrave, Dedicated Instructor of History and Mistress of Improvisation (in Education).)

"Mr Rothingham, Mr Knowles," the teacher called Roger and Jordan, "Go to the office and ask for three boxes of pencils and two notepads. We're going to have a short quiz."

The class would have collectively groaned in disappointment if their teacher were someone other than the stern Ms Redgrave.

***

It was lunch break when they were finally allowed back into the class. Sandy wanted to get her lunch box, eat and relax. Having two pop quizzes in a row had been draining. The teacher of the period after History also had the problem of the students not having their textbooks. Thus, the teacher had copied Ms Redgrave's solution and conducted another informal test.

The second teacher had not been Ms Redgrave. Thus, the class had indeed collectively groaned in disappointment then.

Sandy had been raking her brain for a period and a half. She had enough of sudden questions that demanded answers, answers that required serious thinking to form. She had been too lazy to work her gray matter.

As she was pulling her lunch box out of her schoolbag in class, a black-haired sophomore entered the class. Sandy recognized the boy. He was the same sophomore that had bothered Ariel a long time ago for information on the incident with the raccoon on her desk. She had also seen him with a camera at many of the Interclass Games matches.

He turned to Sandy, the first person he saw. Randy, the boy who usually sat by the door, was not there. He must have gone straight to the cafeteria or washroom.

"Hi, I'm Keith McDowell, reporter-in-training," he introduced himself, "Were you here when the incident with the grenade happened?" He took out a pencil and notepad from his jacket.

(Yes, more sudden questions for Sandy.)

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