Raven Feathers

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

It only took two weeks for me to realize 'teacher aid' translated to 'slave' in whatever language it was Mr. Mercier spoke. The second day of school for me, he set me to work organizing the cabinets in the classroom. The task took me three class hours, and it didn't help that each day he messed my organizing up by getting things out for his classes and not putting them where they belonged. Each day I had to go back and redo part of what I had previously done, and it was more than just a little frustrating. It didn't help that after the cabinets were as done as they were getting, I had to move on to his office next. Six days in, I still was no where near finished.

I was sitting with my legs crossed on the floor just outside his office. There was a mess of papers in front of me from his desk, and slowly but surely, I was sorting them into proper piles. The number of drawings and rough sketches overshadowed documents with actual writing, and I even found a detention slip from the beginning of school he had lost in the pile that showed the punishment hadn't been fulfilled. “If cleanliness is close to godliness, you are the devil.” I hissed, too annoyed to even pretend to show him respect.

Mr. Mercier looked up from his newspaper to send me a smirk. “I'm not the devil; I'm simply a demon.” he said, shrugging his shoulders. I chose to ignore his comment and keep working while examining him. He was dressed in a similar way as the first day I had seen him only the stains on his shirt were blues, and he had the first three buttons of his shirt undone. “You'd make a good secretary, Adele. If you don't plan on heading straight to college after high school, you can always work for me for a year or two.”

I pouted a bit when I noticed he wasn't looking toward me. “Are you being serious, or are you you just messing with me?” I asked.

He hummed, thoughtfully. “I suppose I am being serious. I'm not any good with keeping things straight and in their place, believe me I've tried, and with you around, things have gone a bit more smoother. I think after a year of free labor, it would be too much of a shock for you just to leave. However, if you did work for me, I'd have to pay you.” he sighed at the thought. He placed his newspaper aside and looked lazily at me. “Why did you want to know if I was being serious or not? Are you actually going to consider it?” he wondered.

“Maybe.” I answered, truthfully. “I don't know what I'm going to do after high school, but I know a traditional college setting doesn't appeal to me. I was planning on, well more like thing about, getting a part time job and taking online classes so I could at least get a general degree.” I looked down at the floor and sighed. “I don't know what I could even do with my life.”

“Most people don't know what they want for their life until they try something out and find they don't like it.” Mr. Mercier said, scratching the back of his head. Something about him made it seem like he was uncomfortable with how the conversation was going. “I know I don't want to be a teacher, but here I am.” he admitted. “Sometimes you just have to take what life deals to you and do your best with it.”

I took in every detail of his appearance from the downwards shift in his bluish purple eyes to the way rouge strand of hair fell in his face. “You're not happy with your life right now?” I asked. I was a bit uncertain whether I should have asked or not because it was such a personal question, but at the same time, I wanted to know his answer. He wasn't one of my fifty year old teachers who said they went through what their students were going through and could relate. He was my only teacher who was still going through the same thing as his students.

“I haven't been happy with my life for many years of my life.” he sighed a reply. “I've made mistakes and let my anger get the best of me, but soon I'll get better. Once that happens, things may finally turn around for the best.” The way he talked made it seem as if he was miles away, lost in memories.