Spider
Scare
It was third grade, room 244, just at the end of the day. Lucas, a boy
in my class, had just
finished reading his story about his pet spider,
Copper. Everyone clapped, except for those
troublemakers. They know
who they are.
“Now
kids, go pack up!” Ms. Zingaro, my wonderful teacher, said.
Everyone got up and
chattered toward the cubbies, except me. I snuck up
behind Ms. Z. I reached up
on my tip toes, slowly extending my hand
toward her. I made spidery
hands and crawled my fingers up her neck.
She jumped high in the air,
yelped, spun around, black dress with purple
polka dots (very
fashionable) swirling, and stared at me with wild eyes.
I leaned back, almost
falling onto the multicolored carpet. All the kids in
the cubbies paused. I’m
sure all the other classes paused, too.
I
felt bad, because I absolutely, POSITIVELY, DETEST getting in
trouble. I did not expect
such a dramatic reaction, and that’s why this
memory is burned into my
brain. I remember the door and bathroom sign
out sheet in front of me,
Ms. Z’s petrified face, and all the kids in the
cubbies, unaware of what I
did. The table stood behind me, and the
SmartBoard was blank next
to me. The teacher’s desk stood behind me,
stacked high with papers. On
the computer buzzed a BrainPop video. To
my left was the wall of all
the artwork and stories we had drawn and
written. The heater blew
air into the room as the silver zipper on my gray
jacket swung back and forth,
back and forth, in a hypnotizing way. It was
so quiet you could’ve heard
a pin-cushion drop. I can picture the image
from my view, from the
left, right, above, below, front, and back (I actually
forced myself to imagine
the angles before I wrote them).
After
the stunt I pulled, other students went around as a facsimile of me by doing
spiders on someone’s back. I’m sure Ms. Z has forgiven me, though, and I’ve
forgiven myself. Kind of. I do plan on getting in contact with Ms. Z again, I
just won’t be pulling any more stunts.
