Three lessons had gone by and James now found himself sitting in Math Lit class, attempting to focus on the monotonous droning of his teacher's voice. Alas, no matter how hard he tried boredom hung over his back like a heavy blanket. There were only a handful of students in the school that could brag the ability of fending off the mind numbing powers of 'Mr Robin the Mundane'. James snickered softly at the thought.
He was rummaging mindlessly through his pencil bag while his brain spun backwards on its hamster wheel, when he heard a guy sitting to the right from him whisper over to one of his friends. 'It's probably Steve,' James guessed. A glance confirmed this and he watched as Steven rocked arrogantly on the legs of his seat.
"Thank god the lesson's almost done", he muttered under his breath.
Mr Robin, who had apparently heard the boy's comment, peered shrewdly at him from over the rims of his circular glasses.
"Steven", he called loudly. Steven quickly stopped his rocking and met the teacher's glare. "Would you mind repeating to the class what was covered during this period?"
The class watched as Steven looked for an answer, but obviously finding none, he instead looked down and at his opened textbook.
"That's what I thought", the teacher said with an air of satisfaction, "Now as I was saying-."
He was cut off by a timid knock on the door. Most of the class looked over and at the girl that stood under the doorframe, waiting patiently. 'Michelle Davis,' James thought as he shifted in his seat. She was one of those girls that half of the guys in his school swooned over.
Although he had to remind himself not to fall so easily for her, James couldn't stop his heart from fluttering annoyingly as he wondered why she would need to visit this particular classroom. Pay her no mind. 'Maybe she just chose the wrong class.'
"Yes, what do you want?", Mr Robin asked her, with a noticeably far lower level of patience. He placed his textbook down on his desk and turned to face her.
For a second Michelle looked like she was uncomfortable, and James almost felt sorry for her, but the moment passed and she fiddled with her hands before answering, "I...uh...Mrs Shelly needs James Sulman sir. We have a small problem in our classroom. Would you mind if he helps us?"
'Is this a joke?,' James wondered in bewilderment.
The teacher hesitated and then without another word waved his hand in James' direction. James hesitated as well, for a briefer time than his teacher, but he quickly decided that it would be good idea if he acted immediately. He got clumsily out of his chair and moved forward. It felt like everyone was looking at him – no, assessing him - as he walked towards Michelle and the open door, and the feeling subsided only once he took that last step and crossed over into the hallway. He turned to face Michelle and he waited for her to talk. She did, but not with the words that James was hoping.
"Don't you know where Mrs Shelly's class is?", she asked him. She shook her head in disbelief, which caused her auburn hair to ripple and distract James from making a reply. He attempted futilely to recover his composure.
"No, no. I know where it is...It's just that I couldn't help but be distracted for a moment", he said feebly. 'Did I really just say that?,' James thought inwardly cringing at his response.
Michelle looked at him with a nonplussed expression, like she thought he was acting crazy.
'Well maybe I am...,' James berated himself mentally.
"You know what, I'm going to stop talking now", he told her.
"Yeah, maybe you should do that", she agreed dryly.
They both walked down the passage in an uncomfortable silence until at last James stopped at the door that led into Mrs Shelly's room. He took a minute to allow his assumptions to run rampant, then he latched down and caged them. He stepped into the room, but also noticed that Michelle stayed next to the door. As he entered the class he glanced around. He heard a thudding sound and the ruffled flapping of wings come from above his head, so he looked upwards and saw what the commotion was all about.
A pigeon was flying around the ceiling in panic, feathers falling loose as it bumped into walls and searched for an exit. All of the students stood at the far end of the room gazing uncertainly at the frightened bird that was trying to fly over them. 'How did it even get inside here?,' James marvelled. He didn't bother answering his own question, and instead crept slowly towards the manic pigeon's direction. He carefully removed his blazer and jersey, laying aside the blazer and clutching the jersey in his fingers like a net while he edged closer still.
James liked to tell people that he wasn't afraid of anything that came his way, if they ever had to ask him. Most of the time, however, all a person had to do was look and observe how James acted when a situation was laid before him. More often than not, actions spoke louder than words. In the case of the crazy pigeon, there was no exception. If James had paused to ask himself the same question, and he rarely ever questioned his abilities, he would have also ended up believing in his own claims. He had the proof. Whenever he went to the beach he swam deep in the ocean. Whenever he went cliff diving with his friends he was always the first one to jump off and into the churning water bellow. He also found that he could handle insects and spiders without any hesitation. The list went on.
James brought his thoughts back to the present, and in his mind he saw the aggravated pigeon that was before him as just another fat bird. 'Worst case scenario I'll get a couple of deep scratches,' he reasoned to himself. But that was very unlikely to happen if he handled it properly. So with all those thoughts out of the way and his heart beating loudly in his chest James continued walking, keeping a sharp eye out in case the bird decided to fly into his face. It didn't.
Instead, rather ironically, it chose to dive towards the group of students. To James, the only explanation that made sense was that it must have desperately been looking for an escape and it had to make a choice, 'the one advancing human or the crowd of passive humans?' It had made its choice and as it flew towards the students, they broke away and scattered. One of the guys at the front of the group screamed out in fear and James turned his head to see who had made the high pitched outcry. That person had been a muscular dude whose name was Mike Sunday. Which was why before he could stop himself, James released a snort of laughter. He managed to shut his mouth a second later, but knew that the damage had already been dealt. Mike's face had a menacing expression written all over it, in thick-black-permanent marker. It said: 'Just you wait smart mouth, I'll get you later...'
James would have face-palmed his forehead if he hadn't been holding his jersey in both his hands. 'How can I be so stupid?,' he thought. He forced himself to return his attention to the pigeon. Regardless of the mistake he had made, he would have to worry about Mike later. As for the bird; he had to get it out of the room, now. All of a sudden impatient, James pounced. Before he could grab it the pigeon twisted to the right and dodged his crude net, flying hard into the wall beside him. It was momentarily stunned and James made use of this brief advantage.
He sprang up and with great caution wrapped his jersey around the bird, pulling it to his chest so that he could hold onto it tightly. Despite doing this, James could feel the pigeon fighting against his hold, so he ran for the door while students shuffled out of his way. He raced back out into the corridor and practically shoved his jersey out of the nearest window that he could find.
James watched the pigeon untangle itself from the knitted fabric and fly off into the distance. Only then did he allow himself to let out the breath that he was holding in. He stayed standing by the window for a few more seconds to watch where his jersey landed so that he would know where to find it later. Turning around he noticed that small crowds of students were standing outside their individual classes, clearly wanting to see what the noise was all about. They were whispering so loud James could make out what they were saying.
"What the heck was that?"
"I think it was a bird..."
"You think? What else could it have been you idiot, the dude's sandwich?"
"Who's the guy that tossed it out the window?"
"The hell if I know, man..."
Just then one of the groups that stood behind James moved aside to let one of the teachers step out into the passageway.
"Alright everyone, that's quite enough time wasted. Off to your classes. All of you!"
And so the gathered crowd slowly began to disperse. The teacher, who James realized was Mrs Shelly, made her way towards him. She had a grin on her pudgy face, "Thank you for your help James. That was quite a show!"
James put on a half-smile, "Just happy to get out of Math class Ma'am", he replied.
She let out a sigh, "Well then, I suppose you should be getting back to class yourself. Don't forget to take your blazer with you please." Mrs Shelly entered her classroom again, and Michelle followed close behind.
The second bell rang for break and as James walked past Monty he gave him a brief high five. They stopped walking and faced each other.
"Heard about your heroics last lesson", Monty said. Then in a dramatic tone of voice he added, "Tell me Sulman, how did it feel?"
James couldn't help but grin as he tugged on the straps of his bag. "It was nothing", he replied unconvincingly before pulling a mischievous smile. Monty laughed and slapped James on the shoulder.
"See you later Jimmy!", he yelled giving a wave as he walked off.
As James neared Mr Leary's classroom, along with a few other students, he could feel his happy mood start to ebb away. He never liked going there but he also felt an odd sense obligation to attend every once in a while. One by one the learners began filing into the class, which served as an Art room, and took available seats that were positioned at the centre of the floor. James held back by the door and when he saw that nobody else was coming, closed it so that the room would have less light obscuring the screen.
He sat down on an empty seat in the front and waited for the daily news broadcast to begin. The tension was almost tangible and most of the students moved around tentatively in their chairs, until at last the news presenter handed over the feed to a reporter. The smartly dressed woman stood within view of the border of a seemingly quiet town. 'The most famous town in most of the world at the moment.'
"Rey Williams here. This is the update hour regarding new casualties that have arisen since yesterday's readouts. Thankfully, there are less vanishings today than in recordings of previous times, but of course that doesn't change the fact that the kidnappings still go on. At the time of this report there are three victims. In order of disappearance: Rachel Nelly, Ivan Richson-", a girl sitting behind James started to sob. She got up and ran past him, her hair flicking him in the face. The sunlight stung James' eyes when she opened the door and fled the classroom, and one of the guys had to get up and close it again. Upon shutting the door, the sense of stillness returned to the room.
"-Kyle Lewis. That's all for the moment. The suspect still has not been found, but we have hope-",
"That's bull!", a boy far at the back shouted, "Just a bunch of empty words!"
"Quiet down!", Mr Leary boomed.
Silence fell again.
"-remember that nobody is allowed in or out of the area. The town is quarantined and is unsafe for both entry and departure. There is nothing that can be done as of yet, but if you wish to you can help the residents by praying to which ever god you follow. We are all going to need it."
The reporter's grave face was replaced with mug shots and family pictures of the three victims, including the evidence of their disappearances. Black shoe-prints seemingly printed into the very ground where they last stood, the only trace that they were ever there in the first place. One pair of shoe-prints, James saw, was discovered in an office cubicle. The second was on the front porch of a house. The last one was beside a park bench. All of them looked unnerving.
As the broadcast finished, students got up one after the other and left the classroom. They all had the same expression written on their faces. Frowns and downcast glances. After a while, James realized that there was still one more guy remaining in the room, sitting right next to him. He looked at the boy awkwardly then out through the window where Mr Leary was talking to another teacher. The screen, which was now muted, cast a dim light onto the two teen's faces making the lines of tension on their foreheads stand out like scars. The whole time James was looking for something to say that would break through the silence, but he came up with nothing. So he was caught off guard when the guy finally spoke to him first.
"My uncle lives there you know."
"Uh...really?", James inwardly winced at his response.
"Yeah", the boy replied, "He immigrated there last year."
"Were you guys close?"
"Yeah, but we don't communicate as often now as we use to."
James glanced at the boy again and saw that he hadn't removed his attention from the monitor, so he looked down at his feet then up at the boy again.
"Are you ok? I mean...knowing the danger that he is in."
"Part of me just wishes that he disappear so that I can stop having to worry all the time."
"Oh." 'So he believes in that theory.'
"Every time I watch the news I feel my heart stop, as I listen for his name. The other part of me spends its days hating the first part. I mean, how can I even think of something like that? What must a person be like for them to wish something like that onto another person?" A tear ran slowly down the boy's cheek and it left a glistening trail. He didn't seem to notice it.
"I don't know, human?", James said.
The boy sighed and wiped the lone tear away with the back of his hand before he got up. James stood up as well. Only then did the boy meet his eyes.
"Listen...you shouldn't have to bury this inside of you. It looks like you could use a friend, and good news for you I have an opening." James offered his hand for a shake.
The boy chuckled, "Tell you what, give it some time then I'll get back to you."
He shook James' waiting hand and moved to leave the room. He tugged the door open and let in the harsh sun.
"Hey I didn't catch your name", James called as he shielded his eyes.
The boy turned back and his head blocked the light. "It's Liam Riley", he said. With that parting sentence he stepped into the sunlight and shut the door, leaving James in the dark.