Principal Maigle

“Utterly revolting” she sneered aloud.

“Look at them, so unruly. The ins are going to the outs, and the outs to the ins. Ignoring all the arrows we put out there, like sheep just following each other. They are meant to be guidance for drivers not winter décor. The whole place is amok. That daft ground’s keeper should be out there.” she continued.

She moved away from the second floor window, her face convoluted and contorted in patterns of abnormality to regular features. Her eyes were shielded by a purple plastic rim, that slanted slightly with pointy ends on each side, encompassing two sensitive bifocals. 

“Move! Move! Move!” she shouted. 

“And no running in the hallways” she added as she parted the sparsely crowded students on the hallway. 

She turned at the end of the yellow walls, and made her way outside.

“Good morning Principal Maigle” a stern voice met her at the exterior door.

“Aaah, Mr. Williams, late again are we? Maybe you should set your clock an hour earlier than usual.” Principal Maigle retorted

“Caught in traffic, the snow cover was pretty heavy last night. My whole driveway was a foot deep.” he responded.

“So was mine but I still got here on time” she retorted.

“I will…” Mr. Williams started.

“By the way, have you seen the ground’s keeper? She interrupted.

“Mr. Jones?” Mr. Williams asked.

“Of course, Mr. Williams or do we have another nitwit that is responsible for the outside of the school” Principal Maigle snorted. 

“He’s at the back, in his office I reckon.” he replied.

Principal Maigle continued to walk past Mr. Williams, she took two steps forward before turning slowly. 

“And Mr. Williams, sometimes I wonder how you became a science teacher. You ask some of the most silly questions.” She added with a groan. 

With a confused look, Mr. Williams stared. She pulled the dark brown trench coat closer, and tying the waist belt firmly, she walked away. Her pace was perky and intentional, with the winter boots glowing a shiny yellow from the clear morning sun. She turned half way to the salted walk path, onto the left and headed to the back of the building. 

The expression on her face turned sour on immediate encounter with the scene at the back of the school. She could not believe what was going on, and right under her nose. Her school. The balls in her eyes widened, and an intense glare was starting to grow. The air became a scanty smoke from her profuse breathing, and the gaping mouth where her whites habited.

It was her ears, chicks, forehead and chin. She was getting red all over, and it was not just on her nose anymore, from the chilly air. They had all turned color, somehow in the few moments she had been at the back, the scene was increasingly troubling to her. They were everywhere. Everywhere.

The masses of children outside playing this early, was appalling to her face. They were scattered on the swings, on the assembly patch, on the track podium and even on the giant massive oak stump that had been removed last fall.

The children were running around with snowballs. Snow fights were everywhere. The white fluffy rested on the entire school yard like a perfect blank sheet. The pockets of color were popping up at various spots. The yellow jackets, and the red ones, the white ones, the blue, the orange, all infinitely ran in different directions. It was a perfect chaos.

Principal Maigle was speechless, and her manners were being severely tested. Her eyes stopped at a familiar face. A pink coat girl seemed to be completely occupied with her hands. She appeared to be shoving a boy with glasses, under the snow. He extended his hands up, helplessly struggling to free himself but with no luck.

Is that Molly Reed? Principal Maigle wondered. And Adam Flemings? What is God’s name has gotten to them. She struggled to understand what had gotten into the children this morning. 

She moved closer, snatching the left ears of Molly Reed with a peculiar two finger twist that produced a mild cry from the girl as she let go of the boy below. She grasped with both hands trying to fight her assailant. Her eyes grew large when she realized whom had held her.  

“You're come with me young lady!" She said.

The girl obeyed with mild resistance, as her arm was being dragged across the grounds. She looked like a hostage being held for ransom. They walked to a small room that held the school matts and extra shirts. They came to a stop at the door. The worn out wall around the door had a white plaque with the word “GYM” written on it and an arrow pointing to the adjacent double steel doors.

“MR. JOOONESSS……MR JOOONESSS?!?” she shouted.

A man peaked from an open door, appearing from behind the corner wall, adjacent to the gym building. He had uncombed brown hair, with an unshaved chin and his eyes looked sleepy. He wore a long gray coat with black boots and a pair of fabric gloves covered his large hands. The pair did not match. 

“What in the heaven’s name is going on here? It more like in the devil’s name? The children have run over the yard, can’t you see this? She added.

Mr. Jones, looked at her in a puzzled and uninterested expression. He had his jaw open as if he was about to speak and his slight brown teeth were visible. 

“Aren’t you gonna say something? Or do something?” She continued.

“What is there to say, they are just kids. They can play around, class doesn’t start until eight o’clock” he replied, while shooting a glance at the watch in his hands.

“Mr. Jones, how many times do I have to remind you of your duties. You are an employee of this school, and thus shall act like one. The playground is off limits. It is only allowed, during breaks and extracurricular activities.” She stated.

“Now get out here and help me put a stop to this mess, immediately” she declared.

Mr. Jones sighed loudly, and pulled a black string that hang on his neck. A small yellow whistle rested at the end of the string. He walked into the snow covered play grounds, with Principal Maigle closely following behind him and behind her was Molly Reed, still a hostage. He put the yellow object between his parted lips and started to blow in a rapid succession of air with short intermittent breaks.

A loud swift-tone swelled in the air, piercing the scattered sounds of laughter and chatters in the playgrounds. The tone continued in a double rhythm manner. The sound was loud, with continuous bird like chirping and momentary pauses between the chirps.

There was an immediate silent and halt to the activities going on in the grounds.

The children had just noticed the two figures standing at the center. Mr. Jones and Principal Maigle stood tall in the middle of the grounds, and in the morning sun they looked like dark shadows covered with bright halos. The air was quiet, and all the children had their attentive eyes locked on them.

Poor little Molly was held tightly at the elbow, by Principal Maigle. 

The Principal passed a satisfied grin of breaking through to the morning chaos, and finally order was about to be restored. She was about to start shouting before the most unbelievable of things happened to her. 

A large white ball catapulted in a projectile motion, landing in the worst possible of places. It was fired with poor marksmanship and at the most horrendous of targets. It propelled from the back and swiftly made it’s way through the crisp air to land on Principal Maigle’s reddened face in the most terrible time.

A deep silent settled in the playground. It was as if time had stood still for moment. The wind blew and no one uttered a word for long time. A death pause one might call it.

Principal Maigle lifted her hand to clear the snow on her face, everyone stared in shock. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but it was Mr. Jones who broke the silence. 

He had tried to contain himself the whole time. He held his lips together, and his face puffed like a balloon. He chortled, sputtering a loud laugh that echoed around the school. 

One by one the children picked up the laughter, and an array of sounds, most of them out of sync with each other were heard. From small giggles to pitch laughter, they encompassed the playgrounds. Everyone was laughing. That was everyone except Principal Maigle.

She removed the snow from her eye glasses, revealing a face that had turned even more red it resembled an apple.

She started to walk away slowly and stopped half way. She looked at Mr. Jones, whose laughter had now gotten worse and tears were falling from his eyes, and sprung into action.

In an instant, she ducked down and in one swoop she picked a load of snow with both hands. She charged and dumped it on his face with no remorse. She quickly picked up more and dumped it on him in a continuous series of movements. 

This action sent the children into even greater laughter. There was a sudden movement from the children, to make snowballs and send them flying towards Mr. Jones. They joined forces with Principal Maigle to punish the unlucky ground’s keeper. 

A barrage of snow fights ensued that morning, targeting Mr. Jones endlessly. It was a feeling like no other. Principal Maigle was seen smiling at some point during the chaos, as she piled snow onto Mr. Jones. A sight rarely to be observed. 

It was later discovered, Adam Flemings was responsible for the rogue snowball projectile that struck the Principal. He had set his aim on Molly but his skewed coordination landed the blow on the hostage taker instead. 

As she left her office later that, day she remembered what had transpired that fateful morning. 

“The sheer amount of rudeness in that man.” she thought “he deserved every bit of punishment from those little monsters.”

A vague smile rested on her face.

She stepped into the snow filled faculty parking lot to head home.