Skipped Chapter 2: Growing Pains

[If you haven't already done so, please consider reading Chapter 1: Play Time before proceeding with Chapter 2.]

From the files of William Hambrook, Vice-Principal, Woodside Secondary School, dated May 24, 1979:

These notes concern Richard Dunfrey, Grade 9 Student in Edward Mitchell's homeroom class. Mr Dunfrey was sent to my office on the afternoon of Wednesday, May 23rd after an altercation involving another student, Paul McClusky. I also interviewed Mr McClusky and those notes are also on-file. The two accounts essentially match, with the notable exception that Mr McClusky claims no knowledge of what Mr Dunfrey accused him of doing, as so often happens in cases like this. Details follow, in the form of an unofficial transcript of my meeting with Mr Dunfrey (since budgetary concerns preclude the hiring of an actual stenographer).

Hambrook: Well, Mr Dunfrey, you've been here for almost an entire year now and yet you still haven't learned in that time that we don't condone fisticuffs or violence of any sort in our halls?

Dunfrey: I didn't mean to start a fight, Mr Hambrook. I just lost my cool, is all.

Hambrook: Yes, well, losing one's cool is also not condoned, young man. What prompted this behaviour, then?

Dunfrey: It was just a misunderstanding, Mr Hambrook. I thought Paulie had stole something of mine because he had it in his locker, so I just got mad when he denied it.

Hambrook: And what exactly did you think he'd stolen? And it had better not be cigarettes or drugs of any kind!

Dunfrey: No sir! Nothing like that. It was... just something that I lost a long time ago, when I was a little kid.

Hambrook: Go on. You still haven't told me what it was.

Dunfrey: I don't think it even has a name, sir. It's this green rock or game piece or something that I found back in public school, but then I lost it again right afterwards. I don't even know why I remember it so well, but I guess I wrote a "What I Did Last Summer" essay around then and that kind of made me remember it ever since.

Hambrook: A green game piece? Like the little houses in Monopoly? You were fighting over something silly like that?

Dunfrey: No, sir, it wasn't actually a Monopoly piece. I used to try to think what it might be, so I guess I'd decided it was part of a game or something after I lost it. It was sort of, like, a green rock, round except flat on the top and bottom, which means it probably was made by someone. Although I guess it could've been natural, too. I don't really know.

Hambrook: So you lost this rock a long time ago, and then you found it in Mr McClusky's locker today? So.. what? You thought he'd stolen it years ago and you'd just caught him now?

Dunfrey: I know it doesn't make any sense, sir. I was just so surprised to see it again, but then Paulie said he'd never seen it before even though it was right there on the shelf of his locker, so I got mad! I've never seen another green rock like it, so it had to be the same one. And he just kept egging me on, denying he even knew where he got it from, so I shoved him, and then he shoved me back, and I guess it just all got out of control. I'm really sorry and I'm sure it won't ever happen again.

Hambrook: We'll have to see that it doesn't, Mr Dunfrey. I'll be talking to Mr McClusky next and I hope his account lines up with yours, for both your sakes. If so, I'll be willing to let both of you go with a warning this time, but you only get one warning, young man! Do you understand my meaning?

Dunfrey: Absolutely, sir! And thank you, sir.

Hambrook: Well, you go sit outside now while I talk to Mr McClusky.

Final Note: Since McClusky's account was essentially the same, and he stuck by his story that he'd never seen the item in question before, I decided not to pursue the matter further, as these things have a way of getting out of hand when given too much gravity by staff members. The object in question had been in Mr Dunfrey's possession during the shoving match and, seeing as only he seemed interested in keeping it, I let it go. He was quite right in his description: it's not like anything I've ever seen before either, but seemed entirely harmless: unlikely to be useful as a weapon and unsuited to hiding contraband inside of,as it appears to be solid.


From the files of William Hambrook, Vice-Principal, Woodside Secondary School, dated May 25, 1979:

A second set of notes concerning Richard Dunfrey, Grade 9 Student in Edward Mitchell's homeroom class. Mr Dunfrey was sent to my office, for the second day in a row, on the morning of Thursday, May 24th, following an incident with his home room teacher shortly after the bell rang. Details follow, in the form of an unofficial transcript of our meeting (since budgetary concerns continue to preclude the hiring of an actual stenographer). I'd already heard Edward's account of what happened prior to talking to Mr Dunfrey.

Hambrook: Well, well, Mr Dunfrey, you appear to be well on your way to becoming a regular around here. And believe me, sir, that's not a good thing!

Dunfrey: (He was visibly distraught.) I can't go on that trip, Mr Hambrook! I just can't.

Hambrook: No one's saying you have to go on the Science field trip, son. But you shouldn't be scaring your fellow students with gloom and doom predictions, either! That's very irresponsible of you, to say the least!

Dunfrey: But I just know something bad's going to happen!

Hambrook: You'll have to forgive me if I'm having trouble understanding why yesterday you were engaged in a shoving match with Paul McClusy and this morning you're convinced of some doomsday scenario. I must say, I'd just barely finished writing up my notes from yesterday's discussion and here you are again, with a completely different 'issue' bringing you to my office again. Can you at least explain why you're so overwrought about a school trip?

Dunfrey: It's hard to explain, Mr Hambrook. As I told Emit... I mean, Mr Mitchell...

Hambrook: You children today and the lack of respect you show teachers! Yes, yes, we're all well aware that you call Mr Mitchell by that.. name.. because he occasionally passes gas, but it's a medical condition, for Pete's sake! There's nothing funny about it! Anyway, as you were saying, you told Mr Mitchell.. ?

Dunfrey: Yes sir. I told him I had this terrible feeling yesterday afternoon when I put my backpack into my locker after Math class, and it was all I could think about last night. It was like I knew that something terrible is going to happen on the field trip. I tried to ask... Mr Mitchell to cancel the trip altogether, but he said that was stupid so then I told him there's no way I was going, and then he got mad because other people were listening and maybe they wouldn't want to go. I guess I yelled a bit, too.

Hambrook: I'm sure Mr Mitchell was simply concerned that you'd upset other students with your unfounded claims. Listen, Richard, we're not about to force any student to go on a field trip that they have reservations about. Just get one of your parents to send in a signed note explaining that you won't be participating and we'll arrange for some activities for you to do while the rest of the class is away. But you have to stop behaving so irresponsibly, do you hear me?

Dunfrey: Yes sir.

Hambrook: Very well. Oh, and by the way, I assume there've been no further incidents involving your mysterious green whatsit, or I'd have heard about them by now?

Dunfrey: Um, well, actually it's gone missing again, sir. It was in my backpack when I put it my locker but it wasn't there when I got home yesterday so I don't know where it's gone. I can't ever seem to hold onto it very long, I guess. My mom says I'd lose my head if it weren't attached, but I don't even know what that means.


From the files of William Hambrook, Vice-Principal, Woodside Secondary School, dated June 4, 1979:

In this terrible time in our school's history, I feel some reflections are in order before I can successfully move on.

The tragedy involving the Grade 9 Science class last week has affected us all. With fifteen funerals behind us and another dozen still to come, including a special memorial ceremony for our friend and co-worker Edward Mitchell, there's clearly a pall hanging over our hallowed halls right now. I have every confidence that we all, both student body and staff, will bounce back from this, but I fear it will be a long and heavy-hearted summer for most. My heart goes out to Edward's widow and two children, and to all of the parents who suffered the greatest loss imaginable.

Preliminary findings all agree, however, that no negligence was involved in the accident that sent the school bus and all of its occupants off the road on that dark day. The general consensus is that the unseasonably heavy rainfall caused the slippery conditions, and with such poor visibility, it was all sadly inevitable, I fear. At any rate, from a purely rational point-of-view, it appears the school has nothing to fear in terms of litigation, thankfully. Small mercies at a time like this.

One final note is perhaps required. Since earlier files of mine recorded something which might, on the surface, seem related to this tragedy, it seems best to deal with it head-on. While a very unfortunate coincidence, Grade 9 student Richard Dunfrey's claims of disaster regarding the Science field trip, and his subsequent refusal to participate in it, must be considered just that: a coincidence. While we can all ironically be thankful for his irrational fear, since it inadvertantly saved his life, we mustn't fall into the trap of giving it any credence. Richard is a very fortunate young man, while twenty-seven of his fellow students, a teacher and a bus driver were not. But certainly any claims of paranormal activity, or Cassandra-like prophecy, should be treated as the rubbish they clearly are. It behooves the school staff, and the Board as well, to continue to downplay this bizarre occurence and focus instead on the job of grief management and recovery. We still have several hundred students prepared to finish out the year in a few weeks, as well as a graduating Grade 13 class to celebrate. Those must remain our priorities.