"What did I tell you about wool-gathering?" Miss Templeton hisses, reaching down and grabbing me by the wrist. Although the teacher is tall and thin like a maypole, she's terribly strong. I wince as my bones grind beneath Miss Templeton's fingers. A sharp cry bursts from my lips and I lean back in an attempt to pull myself free. I wasn't doing anything wrong, just making notations on my pad.
"Oh, no," Miss Templeton warns, brown eyes hard like flint. "I've given you enough chances, young lady. If your father can't correct your behavior, then it's my duty to do it for him."
"Let me go!" I shout as the teacher begins to pull me away from my desk. I kick out with one foot, knocking over a chair. It falls to the floor with a bang as the other children stare in shock, their faces pale and eyes wide.
"You're only going to make this more difficult," Miss Templeton grounds out, dragging me towards the door.
"What's going on?" Miss Kesseler exclaims, gripping her classroom door with one hand. Her eyes widen when she notices me in Miss Templeton's clutches. "Jenna—"
I stumble and fall to one knee, jerking Miss Templeton off-balance. My wrist slips out of the teacher's, but Miss Templeton is too quick. With a face like murder, the teacher snatches me by the collar and hauls me to my feet.
"Don't stand there and gawk, Marta," Miss Templeton snarls. "Grab her feet."
"For what?" Miss Kesseler cries, covering her mouth as the blood drains from her face. "Jenna, you've gone too far!"
"Students must learn discipline," Miss Templeton says as she twists the fabric of my collar around her hand, tightening it like a noose. Tears stream down my face and I gasp for breath. Miss Templeton has gone absolutely mad!
Coughing and gagging, I spin my arms, desperate to grab onto something—anything. My classmates crowd the doorway, ashen-faced and silent. The older students in Miss Kesseler's class poke their heads around the teacher's waist and shoulders even as she attempts to push them back.
"I have tried to be reasonable, Melusine!" Miss Templeton growls, knotting her other hand in my long black braid. "But wild animals cannot be reasoned with. The only way to ensure tractability is through punishment."
Pain explodes across the back of my head as my scalp is stretched to the point of breaking. Tears and snot run down my face as my heart races in fear.
There's a flash of muted green as Miss Kesseler comes flying over Miss Templeton's shoulder. "Enough, Jenna!" Miss Kesseler grabs the hand that Miss Templeton has dug into my hair and tries to pry her fingers off. "STOP!"
"Mister Vost!" Miss Templeton shouts, calling for the school custodian. "I need your assistance!" She turns to Miss Kesseler and backhands the other woman across the face. Miss Kesseler staggers and falls into a pile of her students.
My feet slip and slide on the wooden floor, and my hands bang into the walls as I flail about helplessly. As I spin, I spy the elderly custodian emerging from his tiny office towards the back of the school, a broom in one hand.
"Mister Vost!" I choke out tearfully, reaching for him. He's always been kind to the students, slipping them sweets his wife makes. "Help!"
Miss Templeton's response is to jerk my hair harder. "If you value your job, Mister Vost, you will get the whip from my office!"
The elderly man's bushy white eyebrows shoot up towards his balding head. "W-whip?" he stammers as the broom trembles in his hand.
"Is no one listening to me?" Miss Templeton cries in frustration. "Fine!" She snatches the broom from Mister Vost's hand. Tugging her fingers free from my braid, Miss Templeton lifts the broom handle high in the air.
I fall to the floor as soon as the deranged teacher releases me. Heart pounding like a drum, I scamper across the hall on all fours, all reason banished as flight mode kicks in. There's a door to the play yard at the end of the hall and I race for it as fast as I can.
Help! I scream internally, quickly glancing under my arm to see Miss Templeton swinging the broom handle around with a yell.
There's a whoosh and a crack as the broom handle strikes the wall, breaking off the tip. It skitters across the hall, bouncing off the walls like a rubber ball.
"HELP!" I scream, stumbling as I run. "PAPA!"
"Stand still!" Miss Templeton shouts, teeth bared like a mad dog. Spittle froths on her lips and she yanks the broom back for another swing.
"Jenna! That's enough, I said!" Miss Kesseler shouts.
I reach the door, panting, and grab the handle. My hands, slick with sweat, slide off of the old brass knob. As I desperately try to open the door, I see Miss Kesseler attempt to grab Miss Templeton by the shoulder. But the older teacher shoves Miss Kesseler against the wall. A startling puff of air escapes Miss Kesseler's lips, mouth forming a surprised "O". The younger woman's head hits the paneling and she slides to the floor, slumped to the side.
And there's Miss Templeton, her tight brown bun coming loose, thick tendrils sticking out in all directions. Her face is bright red and the flush travels down her neck to disappear into her high, starched white collar. The broom shakes in her grip, knuckles bone-white.
"You. Will. Obey. ME!" she snarls, raising the broom and striding down the hallway. A small, watery sob leaves my lips and I close my eyes, body tensing for the inevitable blow.
One that does not come.
Miss Templeton suddenly lets loose a blood-curdling shriek. The broom drops from the teacher's nerveless fingers and rolls up against the wall. Slowly, I lift my head and look through the arrow-slit window in the door. Looking back at me, black eyes narrowed in fury, is the massive head of a male sea lion.
The beast bellows, heavily furred throat shaking with fury. Gasping, I throw myself away from the door, falling into an alcove where students hang their coats just as the sea lion rears up and smashes the wood to splinters.
High, shrill screams fill the school as panicked students and staff pours into the hallway and start running towards the other door. Miss Templeton's eyes widen and nearly pop out of her head; her face turns from red to white in a blink. She spins around, but the crush of students keeps her behind and no amount of screaming or clawing at little shoulders gets her any closer to safety.
Gingerly, I push myself out of the alcove and lean against the frame, chest heaving up and down as I desperately try to catch my breath. The bull sea lion slowly lurches forward, dragging his bulk across the floor.
A strange clicking and chittering sound follows and I stare in shock as a wave of small red crabs flows around the sea lion like a tiny stream. Miss Templeton turns around and notices the crabs.
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" she howls. Children are shoved to the ground and stepped on as the head teacher forces her way between them.
The crabs carefully maneuver around the children and swarm around Miss Templeton, crawling up her legs and back like a living curtain. Her screams rise higher and higher and the woman spins around, flailing her arms as if she were on fire and banging into the wall to loosen her tormentors. An ugly, sickening series of crunches pepper the chaos as the broken bodies of the crabs fall to the floor, little legs twitching in their death throes.
There's a soft grunt and I turn to look up as the sea lion, his burly brown body still damp from the sea, stops next to me. Please don't eat me ... I inhale sharply, an action that irritates my raw throat, but the sea lion merely nods and carefully maneuvers past me.
As adrenaline slowly leaves my system, I grip the doorframe and peer around it. The seal lion reaches Miss Templeton, her skin pock-marked and bleeding from dozens of tiny pinchers. As the big bull stretches out his thick neck, the crabs seamlessly flow away from the back of Miss Templeton's head. The teacher lets out a high-pitched, albeit muffled, wail as the sea lion latches large, sharp teeth on her bloodied collar.
Slowly, deliberately, the sea lion begins to drag Miss Templeton backward as she howls and batters around his head with crab-covered arms to no effect.
The whole hallway has gone still, I realize as the sea lion exits the school. No one talks, only breathes. Papers crinkle as Mister Vost furiously fans Miss Kesseler, a noise that echoes throughout the corridor, as loud as a shout.
I slowly emerge from the alcove, step over the splinters of the ruined door and peer outside. There's no sign of Miss Templeton or the sea lion. Not a single, terrified scream drifts up the hill.
They might as well have vanished.