He hadn’t seen anything like it in twenty years of teaching. Never. Not once. And he had seen a lot.
Bartholemew Cassegy, or Coach Cassegy as the students referred to him graduated from university at 22. He immediately dived into education with the fervor of a rock star climbing onto the stage for their first sold-out concert. He loved pouring out the contents of this brain and seeing the young minds lap it up with curious eyes and bold faces. He had taught all the ages, from kids barely out of diapers to adults rebelling against their upbringing and diving off into their own adventures. He decorated his classroom every year. He knew the name of every child he ever taught, and there were thousands.
He once had to help deliver a calf on a field trip to a dairy farm.
When students began making videos to post on the internet, he joined in from choreographed dances to ‘Ghost riding the whip’. Somehow the students convinced him to climb onto his 1998 Honda Civic and pretend to surf while no one controlled the car’s slow cruise across the empty back parking lot.
He broke up a fight between two rival cliques in the middle of the cafeteria and then was the victim of pranks from both sides for the rest of the year.
Once he accidentally set off the fire alarm while carrying a fire extinguisher with a loose pin back to the chemistry lab. His hand slipped letting the escape of fire suppression power and gas rise up into the air. Alarms blared and when students poured into the hall, they visualized what appeared to be smoke. That was when he befriended the fire chief Claire. She was kind about it. The students laughed. The principal admonished.
He coached cross-country, even though he hated to run because he hated running less than he hated any other sport.
He chaperoned Prom only once. That night he found two teens enjoying each other’s company a bit too much in one of the bathroom stalls and decided he didn’t need to experience that sort of event twice.
When another teacher was out on family medical leave with their sick spouse dying of cancer, he suggested the student body make greeting cards to boost their spirit. He had to pack his trunk to the brim with all the cards and gifts and outpouring of support.
He’s seen a lizard run into the classroom and be caught by the one student who was never paying attention to the lesson. The student proudly stood, climbed onto her desk and declared – I AM THE LIZARD QUEEN!
He had seen the student body president crowd surf in the middle of an assembly that was supposed to be an informative disciplinary lecture from local law enforcement after drugs were discovered on campus.
He has seen balloon-filled classrooms as senior pranks.
He had seen a hot air balloon land on the football field mid-game disrupting a rivalry championship.
His mind flashed through all the life experiences he had. He thought of the funny stories. The sad ones. The pranks. The terror.
But in 20 years he had never, ever seen anything like this.
It was purple.
It was wet.
It took up the entire 200s hallway from Senor Baca’s classroom to the nurse’s office.
And he was PRETTY sure, it was dead.
Then, it breathed.
One Divided NATion 