Justice Intact....Again

The fifth grade boy sat stiffly at his desk and wiped his sweaty hands on the seams of his green Toughskins for what must been the sixth time in the last fifteen minutes. He knew today was the day and he was nervous. He was in the fourth month of his fifth grade year and he had the unfortunate luck to have been assigned to Miss Afseth’s class. Miss Afseth was undoubtedly was the meanest fifth grade teacher out of three possible choices. There was Mrs. Walden who seemed a nice quiet lady with golden hair and wire framed glasses. She only wanted to teach her students the three R’s. Then there was Miss Walker. An ancient gray haired lady, quiet as well unless a student happened to cough in her classroom. He recalled the day that his class and Miss Walker’s class were forced to merge for about three hours. One poor girl had a minor cold accompanied by a cough. The girl neglected to cover her mouth when she gave an undersized hack. Miss Walker was on her feet at once seizing the girl making her wait outside the classroom. Walker then lost her mind and rearranged the entire classroom in order to move the girls desk to the middle of the room all the while screaming about “coughers.” “Coughers are bad, coughers spread germs and coughers will be stationed away from the rest of the class” The girl who dared cough sat quarantined, staring balefully at the chalk board throughout the lesson and would suffer a grim glance from Miss Walker every time she attempted to stifle a cough.


Now Miss Afseth was entirely different matter altogether. Picture a sixty year old woman with a dyed brown bouffant hairdo, wire rimmed glasses and a very severe face. Her lips were constantly pursed and her nose in perpetual crinkle as if someone was holding a small turd directly under her nose. She had a voice that could shatter diamonds and when she yelled it felt as if your entire world was slowly grinding to an end. She wore only long matronly dresses that would hide her shoes. For the longest time the boy was sure she did not possess feet or legs for that matter. He was convinced that she floated because anyone that mean certainly had to possess super evil powers granted by the devil himself. In class when the students were given an assignment there would be absolutely no talking. Afseth kept up a constant stream of “be quiet, hush, be still, shut up, shhhh, no talking.” It didn’t matter if anyone was talking or not. Afseth seemed possessed by something and it certainly was not the soul of a human.

Now he could handle mean Afseth as long as he kept up his grades, which he did and completed his homework which he also did. The trouble was that the second meanest girl in the entire third grade was seated right next to him and she took pleasure in tormenting him on a daily basis. Her name was Debbie Ackerman and even in the fifth grade she had the face of a monster. That face was either verbally abusing him in class or pestering him on the playground. It felt as if her abuse knew no bounds.


One of her favorite activities would commence at the end of recess. As soon as the yard monitors would order the kids to turn in the basketballs, volleyballs and footballs Ackerman would nail him in the back of the head with whatever ball she could grab. She seemed to make it happen on a daily basis. The thing that irritated him the most was he allowed it to happen. Instead of being on guard at the end of recess he would be involved in deep conversation with his friends or goofing around and forget all about her.

Then out of nowhere he would feel the thump of a big rubber ball off the back of his head. His vision would blur for a moment as his head was savagely thrust forward by the impact and he would instantly go mad. He would spin around prepared to pounce on her, but she always made sure she was standing next to a yard monitor. His friends would laugh and Ackerman would pull a stupid face at him and skip off into line.

Once inside the classroom the verbal torture would start. She was an expert at whispering insults without ever getting caught “Doofus…loser…poop-breath…butt-face…ugly…bucky.” It would go on and on. He would sit there seething, wishing he could smash her into a million pieces.

The one time he did try to fink on her it was a complete failure. He approached Afseth at her desk and told her that Debbie had called him fathead. Afseth looked up from fiddling about with some papers, looked him square in the face and said nothing. Afseth looked over at Ackerman who was the personification of innocence, acting as if she was working on her spelling assignment or some phony nonsense.

Afseth looked back at him and said “go sit down and finish your assignment.” He was crushed, limping back to his seat on rubber legs with his heart beating far too fast for his young age. He thought briefly to grab the pair of scissors from Afseth’s’ desk and give Ackerman impromptu haircut. But he knew if he tried he would undoubtedly be convicted on some outrageous federal charge. It was obvious this girl was either protected by an entity so powerful his ten year old brain could not comprehend or she was in fact one of Satan’s minions. As he took his seat he glanced over at Ackerman’s face. She smugly returned his glance as she mouthed “Loser“ at him.

The rest of the day was a blur. When school ended he was picked up by his mom and did not have much to say when she asked about his day. He was on the couch in front of the TV that night not really paying much attention to what was showing when an idea popped into his head. It was an idea for revenge, sweet, sweet revenge. He jumped up from his spot on the couch and ran to the kitchen. He flicked the light switch and looked around the kitchen until he spied the infamous kitchen junk drawer. He tore open the drawer and peered inside. His eyes went right to a small cardboard square with tiny red thumbtacks stuck in it. He knew what he was going to do with at least one of them. He had no choice. It was either vengeance or madness. He chose vengeance. Stuffing the cardboard square carefully into the waistband of his pajamas he quickly walked to his room. In his room he removed the square from his pajamas and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

That night as he lay in bed he drifted to sleep fine tuning the details of his master plan. The next morning he awoke feeling giddy with excitement. He had worked out his entire plan the night before. He knew that if a student failed to complete the assigned homework, Afseth would keep that student inside during recess. He would tell Afseth he didn’t finish and she in turn would keep him in at recess. Then when no one was watching he would lift one of the small thumbtacks from the cardboard and carefully place it on the chair of the monster who sat next to him. Picturing the reaction the tack would provoke from Ackerman almost made him laugh out loud. She would come in from recess yapping and gabbing with her friends priming herself to begin her afternoon session of abuse. She wouldn’t even pay attention to her chair. She would be too busy blabbing. Ackerman would sit down and the tack would stab her right in her mushy butt cheeks. She would then proceed to jump up howling and everyone would laugh. He would finally get a taste of sweet revenge.

On the way to school the next morning there was an unusual amount of traffic and he was a little late getting to school. He was forced to run to ensure he made it to his classroom on time. As he entered the room his eyes went right to where Ackerman was supposed to be seated. Her seat was empty. For a moment he panicked thinking she was out sick. That is until he heard her snotty voice coming from the utility room that was located at the rear of the classroom. She came out carrying the pile of morning work fresh from the mimeograph machine. Afseth was right behind her. They were engaged in some crappy conversation and it was obvious that Ackerman had just completed a big butt-kissing episode. Afseth began ordering all students to take their seats and Ackerman began handing out the morning assignments. She conveniently skipped giving him his morning assignment and as she passed his desk stuck her tongue out. The students slowly began taking their seats. Afseth stood at the head of the class and orchestrated the entire movement. After the class took their seats Afseth gave the order to begin and walked back to her desk. As Afseth floated to her desk she noticed that the boy didn’t have his morning assignment on his desk.


Pointing a twisted finger at him she screamed “where is your morning work assignment young man?” Her voice seemed to rattle the glass windows in the classroom and it certainly caused his teeth to jiggle about in his head. The boy mumbled “I,umm err well I wasn’t given, she, uhh” but before he could even get the words out of his mouth Ackerman piped up and said “ I put one on his desk Miss Afseth, he must have lost it.”

Ackerman smiled her patented butt-kissing smile and Afseth began muttering about responsibility. Afseth walked to her desk to retrieve another copy of the morning assignment. The boy glared at Debbie Ackerman wanting nothing more than to pull the chair out from under her and see her fall on the ground, perhaps bumping her fat head in the process. The moment passed as he remembered his magnificent plan. The tack…the fabulous tack. Yes soon it would be time for the tack and Ackerman would feel the sting of his vengeance.

Afseth slapped the morning work assignment down on the boys’ desk and he set about completing it. Ackerman attempted to annoy him throughout the morning. Tapping her pencil on his desk, whispering small insults and breathing her foul morning breath in his face. He ignored all of her attempts at driving him insane and concentrated on his plan. After the morning assignments were completed and turned in Afseth began a lecture on some already dead president. The boy tuned her out almost instantly. He began to go over his plan. As he did so it occurred to him that if he was caught with the entire cardboard square of thumbtacks his excuse would never stand up under any type of investigation. Especially after the tack was yanked out of Ackerman’s gargantuan buttocks and examined by school officials. Of course he would be the likely suspect. He sat right next to her and it was common knowledge they were arch enemies. They would instantly match it to the other tacks on the cardboard square and his life would be over. They would drag him off to the office where he would be paddled and sent home. He would then be forced to suffer the wrath of his parents. He would be forced to explain why he had entertained the idea of placing a metal thumbtack on some poor girl’s seat. They would assume he was some sort of freak and ship him off to the special school, with the special kids. He would be obligated to sit next to kids who gobbled their own boogers and danced about the playground screaming their own brand of gibberish whilst messing their pants.

The boy’s forehead broke out in a cold sweat and he was on the verge of hyperventilation. He briefly considered confessing. But confess to what exactly? He hadn’t done anything yet. His plan could still work. All he had to do was make a minor modification. He looked around the room and out the window of the classroom. Across the quad he spied the restrooms and the idea came to him. He would obtain permission from Afseth to use the bathroom. He would deposit all but one tack into the trash. BRILLIANT! His plan was still a go and he relaxed.

He looked up at Afseth and raised his hand. Afseth pointed her bony face at him, fixed her beady eyes on his and said “yes? What is it?” The boy began to sweat all over again and froze. Before he could make his request Afseth said “If you are going to ask to use the restroom, you can wait, recess is in fifteen minutes.” Afseth’s beady eyes bore into the boy as if she was scrutinizing his every thought and sin before she muttered “as I recall you didn’t complete your homework did you? I guess you will be staying in during recess wont you?” The boy still partially in shock just nodded his head. Afseth said “you can go to the restroom then.”


He heard Ackerman giggle but ignored her. His plan was coming together perfectly. About five minutes before the recess bell rang the class began putting their books away and began lining up by the door. Ackerman whispered “have a fun smelling Afseth’s farts ya big dummy.” The boy shot back “I hope you step in a giant turd.” Ackerman twisted her face demonic and glared at him before lining up with the rest of the class. The boy stayed seated and waited for the class to file out. Luckily he was the only one that day who failed to complete his nightly assignment. He would be alone in the classroom with Afseth. He thought about that for a moment and decided that it would make things easier. Only one set of eyes t o watch while he placed the thumbtack on Ackerman’s chair.

After the class was gone Afseth took her seat behind her desk and began whatever it was that she did during recess. Not once did she look at him. The boy slowly raised his hand and whispered “um Miss Afseth…I…um still hafta go to the bathroom.” Afseth slowly looked up from her desk and pointed her scrawny finger at the door of the classroom and hissed “go and be quick about it.” The boy sprang out of his chair as if his butt was afire and ran out of the classroom. He ran all the way to the boy’s bathroom. Once inside he made sure no one else was in there he removed the cardboard square filled with little thumbtacks from his pocket. He carefully hid one in the coin pocket of his pants throwing the rest of the tacks in the waste bin. He ran all the way back to his classroom. and was breathing heavily as he opened the classroom door. Afseth looked up and said nothing. He hurried to his seat and quickly completed his homework. Now all he had to do was wait for the exact moment when he could sneak the tack out of his pocket and place it on Ackerman’s seat. He eyed Afseth who seemed engrossed in paperwork on her desk. He looked over at Ackerman’s empty seat then up at the clock. The class would be back in less than twenty minutes. His palms were beginning to sweat and he had to keep wiping them on his jeans. What if he got caught? What if Afseth looked up at the very second he was dropping the tack on Ackerman’s chair? His heart was beating fast and he tried to sit still and act natural. He looked up at Afseth who still took no notice of him. He briefly pictured Ackerman sitting on the tack. The thought brought him joy and happiness. He saw her screaming and rolling about on the ground in a futile attempt to remove the tack from her rear end. He imagined her being whisked off to the school nurse on a stretcher and the tack being yanked out of her derriere with a giant pair of railroad pliers.

He was jarred out of his daydream by the end of recess bell. He sat straight up in his chair and made instant eye contact with Afseth. Good lord the look she gave him it was as if she knew what he had been thinking. Without warning Afseth stood up and walked to the classroom door. He could hear her old lady shoes clacking away on the dull linoleum floor. He guessed she was opening the door so the class could file back inside. He knew this was the time. His pulse began to race and he felt a slight sweat break out on the back of his neck. Reaching into the coin pocket he felt he silently fished the little bastard out. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger he felt the sharp point on his thumb. He looked over at Ackerman’s chair and began to place the tack in the middle of the wooden chair. As he was about to position the tack it slipped from his sweaty grasp and fell to the floor. It made a small sound as it bounced on the linoleum. He froze for a moment waiting for Afseths shrill voice to scream at him “what do you think you are doing boy? “ But nothing happened. No shrill scream from Afseth, No bony fingers grabbing the back of his neck and dragging him off to the principal’s office.


Slowly he turned to see if what Afseth was doing. She was standing outside the door engaged in conversation with some other teacher. He quickly looked about the floor for the errant tack. As luck would have it was lying on its side directly under Ackerman’s desk. “Oh thank God.” He whispered to himself. He quickly bent down and retrieved the tack and placed it on Ackerman’s chair.

After the tack was in place his attention turned to the sound of his classmates noisily filing back into the classroom. They seemed particularly boisterous and Afseth began barking her usual orders from her desk “Sit down! Quiet!! Take your seats!! Recess is over!!!.” He turned to look see what his buddies were doing but ended up making eye contact with Ackerman instead. That’s when he got “The Fear.” He thought to reach over and knock the tack to the floor. He was sure he was going to get caught and sent to the special school.

“Oh crud...oh crud...” he thought to himself “I’m done, she’s gonna know oh no what have I done?” He began to hyperventilate. As he was falling apart another student by the name of Jon Monger was rapidly approaching Afseth’s desk and his face was filled with terror. At the same time Monger was advancing Ackerman was taking her seat. The poor boys breath was coming in short gasps and he felt lightheaded. He looked up at Monger who was standing pale faced, mouthing unintelligible words at Afseth. To his left he felt Ackerman sit down and give out a yelp as the tack pierced her fat ass. She jumped out of her seat her chubby little hand clutching at backside. Ackerman glared at him as if she knew he was definitely and without a doubt responsible for the pain she felt. Still clutching at her rear end she made a beeline for Afseth’s desk. Everything moved in slow motion for the poor boy. Monger was still at Afseth’s right side mumbling in some strange dialect as Ackerman rapidly approached Afseth’s left. He thought he heard Afseth tell Monger to take his seat but Monger stood fast. He saw the hate in Afseth’s face as Monger defied her direct order. It looked as if she was about to grab him and force him to his seat when out of nowhere Monger vomited what seemed a reservoir all over Afseth’s desk. Everyone in the class including Ackerman froze. Ackerman’s hand was still clutching her rear and Afseth had a look of horror on her face the boy would not soon forget. There was an orangey soupy vomit all over the top of Afseth’s desk. It dripped off the sides onto the linoleum.

Afseth began stuttering “Oh dear lord Jon…go...just get...go please god go.” As Afseth was in the midst of her begging Monger let go with another violent stream of puke, this time splashing into a large puddle on the floor to the right of Afseth’s desk. Afseth actually screamed and jumped up, grabbed Monger and hustled him towards the classroom door. It was then that Ackerman chose to make her move. Pointing at the boy she squealed “Miss Afseth! Miss Afseth! I think he put something on my chair!” Afseth turned her head and screamed “EVERYONE TAKE YOUR SEATS AND SHUT UP!!! THAT MEANS YOU DEBORAH!”

Afseth got Monger out of the classroom before he could soak anything or anyone else down. Ackerman stood there with a look of shock upon her face still massaging her posterior as Afseth disappeared with sickly Monger. The boy looked down at Ackerman’s chair and saw the tack all alone on the seat. He quickly grabbed the tack and slipped in into the coin pocket of his jeans. Ackerman didn’t even notice she was too busy weeping. Afseth returned moments later and found Ackerman standing by her vomit covered desk and bellowed” I thought I told you to take your seat Deborah?” “But Miss Afseth he, he put something on my chair and, and he did it.” Ackerman whined. Afseth twisted her face into a mask of terror and ordered Ackerman to take her seat.


Mr. Gurt the janitor showed up a few minutes later with his mop and bucket. Gurt began to clean Mongers last meal off the desk and floor. Ackerman made a couple more sad attempts to tattle on the boy but was rebuffed by Afseth each time. She finally gave up and sat in her seat sulking.

She looked over at the boy and mumbled “you’re gonna pay for this ya know?” The boy looked at her and smiled and whispered “Big fat meanies’ grow thorns on their butt sometimes ya know?” Ackerman never bothered the boy again and shortly thereafter the boys desk was moved next to a nicer girl altogether and things started looking better in every way.