Non-Icy Marauders

Several weeks ago there was a school shooting somewhere in the country. Our headmaster addressed the issue, and told us that if a stranger every tried to approach our doors from the outside (we all have outdoor access doors in our classrooms - locked, of course), we were to tell our kids to get down on the floor and, um, I forget what else...

Since then, of course, I've had these horrible episodes of imagining such scenarios. Stupid imagination. I can scare myself almost to death in ten seconds flat. But I console myself that no such thing would happen at MY little, innocent school.

I was teaching British Literature today. We were going over the kings of England or something (I'm teaching them this great poem: "Willi, Willi, Harry, Steve; Harry, Dick, John, Harry Three; etc."). They all had their backs to the window, so I was the only one to see a stranger walk by. This is a very unusual occurrence, since our windows face out onto our playground, and not a public street or anything. Being the mature, self-controlled teacher that I am I quickly sabotaged my lesson by saying "AHH! STRANGE MAN!" They all wheeled around and began speculating.

He had on an out-of-the-ordinary hat ("looks like it could fit a gun, huh Miss Murray?") and a black trench coat ("Come on girls, why are you nervous?" "He was wearing a BLACK TRENCH COAT!"). It was a very strange occurrence. The girls kept making scared noises (you know how two girls can work each other up... or if you don't, take my word for it), so I went to the door and peered about, but the man had vanished around the corner. "He's going to take on the Kindergarten class" I joked, untastefully (if that's a word).

I was about to resume my class when two things happened nearly simultaneously. First, one of my girls let out a Matt's-grandmother-esque gasp of horror, and second, I saw a black shape in my doorway. I leaped, and half-screamed (too scared for a real scream), and found myself about four feet away from the place I'd been a split second before. He was INSIDE the school, walking down the main hallway! And he had NOT entered through the front door, because he was walking the opposite direction. OH MY WORD! I went to the door and cautiously looked out, to discover him legitimately talking at the front desk. False alarm.

The school was so very a-buzz however. Apparently he had knocked at the 7/8 classroom door! The teacher (brave soul! I would have fallen over in a dead faint) waved him toward the front of the building. The next teacher (way-too-trusting soul! Or maybe, less-paranoid-than-I-soul) let him IN to her CLASSROOM and took him to the front desk.

And now for the ultimate anti-climax: I have no idea who he was or what he was doing. (Loud groans here, I know.) He was talking to the secretary (in a foreign accent, my students joyfully, and with relish, reported) about some philosophy or other, last I heard. Probably just some door-to-door philosopher. But WOW what an adrenaline rush I got!

My kids wouldn't stop commenting on how high I jumped - "Miss Murray can fly!" - and they gleefully reported it to the incoming class. I guess I was taking the classroom joking a little more seriously than I'd thought.

Thanks, Linds, for bringing this all back (because it happened SO long ago) with your fabulous Icy Marauders tale!