As a middle school teacher with over thirty years of experience, little riled up Ms. Mandel. So when Stephanie Parker, a perky teacher's pet, ducked her head into the classroom between fifth and six periods, she didn't even look up.
"Come quick, Ms. Mandel, it's Zac Dalton."
Ms. Mandel, paused while writing the letter 'F' on the spelling quiz she was currently grading, recalling Zac had looked a bit peaked in class. She added a minus to the 'F,' put down her pen, and peered at her star pupil over her reading glasses. Stephanie looked quite a bit more manic than usual and Ms. Mandel's ears–ever sharp from decades of busting children for passing notes and chewing gum–registered some shouting above the usual din of the hallways.
She pushed back her chair and, with the regal attitude of and educator who has wrangled pubescent children more successfully than most military generals manage new recruits, walked gracefully across her classroom and stepped out into the hallway.
Though she had seen it all, Ms. Mandel had to admit it was quite a mess.
As usually occurred during any type of 'incident,' a circle of onlookers surrounded the situation. Most looked horrified, but Danny Jones and Brian Peterson guffawed at the victims. Three sixth-graders had clearly just gone down in the middle of the hall and were various stages of distress– getting back on their feet and reckoning with what had just happened.
Zac Dalton leaned against the lockers on one side of crowd looking green.
From behind Ms. Mandel, a seventh-grader walked up with AirPods in his ears, completely oblivious to the world and any peril it might hold. Before Ms. Mandel could grab him, he slipped and fell as well, AirPods flying asunder. A groan of disgust went up from the crowd.
Ms. Mandel snapped into action.
"Stephanie, take Zac down to the nurse's office." Stephanie nodded enthusiastically and set of down the hall, Zac dolefully lumbering after her.
"You four," Ms. Mandel motioned to the three sixth-graders and the seventh-grader who were all looking extremely unhappy and pathetic, "go to the restroom and try to clean yourselves up."
"Danny!" Danny startled and looked from side to side, clearly hoping he'd heard wrong and that Ms. Mandel had called someone else out. "You go get two chairs from my room and block this half of the hallway so nobody else slips."
"Any you, Brian," she said, grabbing him by the back of the shirt as he was slyly trying to leave the scene. "You go get Mr. Pierson and help him clean up this mess."
"Aw, do I have to?" whined Brian. But the sharp look he received from Ms. Mandel, cut him off. Better to go fetch the custodian and help him clean up Zac Dalton's puke than face an afternoon of detention and extra spelling quizzes from Ms. Mandel.
