There are ten alligators hanging out in this classroom. When I came in things were cool. There were only two or three. I took my seat like I always do â not too close to the back, but not like the front row. I donât want to have to look at my teacher straight the whole time, but I donât want to look like a slacker, you know?Â
Before class had even started two more alligators showed up. Now, Iâm all for alligators in the classroom. I get it. But when I counted five alligators in the classroom I was like âoh ok this is a lot of alligators.âÂ
A few I didnât even see come in. Is there another door or something? A sewer entrance theyâre popping out of? Should I say something here?Â
Anyway, there are ten alligators now.Â
I am just keeping my mouth shut. Iâm not big on school so my rule is to just get through it and get home so I can hang out.Â
Our teacher started the lesson a few minutes ago. Just before that an alligator took a bite out of Martinâs leg. The yelling and blood excited a bunch of the other alligators so they all went over to bite on Martin too. Heâs been eaten at this point, so the yellingâs stopped.Â
He was a football player too, so thatâll suck for the team. I think they have a game this weekend. I donât really follow a lot of the school sports except for track, which Iâm on in spring.Â
It makes me glad I didnât sit all the way in back. Eric and Jemma have blood all over them from the frenzy. Theyâll have to wear those clothes for the next two periods.Â
âJemma, eyes up here please,â the teacher says. Jemmaâs focused on the ten alligators thatâre now all gathered at the back of the classroom. Some of us are turning around to see whatâs up too. I donât blame her that sheâs distracted.Â
Our teacher continues explaining something about the Industrial Revolution. I think the alligators are eating Jemma now. Sheâs trying not to disturb the class but we can all hear that thereâs a struggle going on in the back of the room.Â
Sheâs yelling now too, like Martin did. I donât know if she plays any sports. I take a look back and it looks like the alligators are eating her all right. Sheâs out of her desk and the alligators are rolling around and tearing her up.Â
I heard somewhere that alligators donât actually eat like every day. They can eat once a week or something and then they rest and are pretty good for a bit. I hope thatâs the case here, but also there are ten alligators so that might take awhile before theyâre all tired.Â
Iâm having trouble taking notes today. Iâm just not feeling it. My friend Steve has the same class first period, so he can tip me off if thereâs a pop quiz on any of this and I will cram some studying during homeroom. I wonder if we have any popcorn at home I can make after school.
An office assistant comes in the door and interrupts class. She hands a note to the teacher. The teacher nods OK to the assistant and says something to her I canât hear. The office assistant goes to the door and gestures for someone to come in.Â
Itâs the alligator wrangler. Good. He comes when alligators might start to be a problem in the school. Used to be that there was one guy whoâd go around to our school and the middle and elementary schools around here, but this year the school hired a wrangler that is just assigned to our school.
He only has one arm, which I think is funny because like why not get a full wrangler? I donât know how he lost it. Probably something to do with alligators.
He says hello to the teacher. âTheyâre in the back of the room.â The teacher says. The wrangler looks over and sees the ten alligators, some of whom are still fighting over Jemmaâs limbs, and moves toward the back of the class.Â
âExcuse meâ he says as he brushes past me. He almost hits me with the butt of his rifle. What the hell man, watch where youâre going with that.Â
Weâre talking about railroads and coal in Great Britain. An alligator, a big one waddles past me. Its tail whips on my foot. Iâm always surprised how heavy and big these things are.Â
That alligator leaves through the front classroom door. Nine alligators.Â
A rifle shot scares the crap out of me, and everyone in the classroom. The wrangler just shot at one of the alligators. I look back and itâs still moving and looks like the wrangler is reloading. Another alligator bites his boot and tries to drag him down.Â
âKick her in the ribs for me, please,â he calls to Eric. Eric stands up and kicks the alligator in the side and it releases the wrangler. âThanks.âÂ
âEveryone, letâs focus. Up here please,â the teacher says. Another rifle shot rings off the cinderblock walls of the classroom. Our teacher jumps again. âHowâs it going back there?â she asks. I think sheâs getting annoyed.
âAlmost done.â I peek back again and there are only three or four alligators left. I still donât know how theyâre getting in and out. I only saw that one go out the front door.Â
The steam engine was important. Coal plants. Manufacturing. Out the window I have a good view of the parking lot, where I see my friendâs older brother parking and coming back in to the school. I wonder why he was off of school grounds. Was he skipping class? Only five minutes âtil the bell.Â
The wrangler seems like heâs done. He comes back up to the front of the class and nods at the teacher. âSorry for the disruption,â he says.Â
âThanks for the help!â
The bell finally rings. I get up and glance at the back of the classroom. Only one alligator still around, but looks like thatâs the one that got shot. Itâs laying there not moving. One of Martinâs big shoes. He must have had like size 14 feet or something.Â
As I leave class see the alligator that left out the front door slowly making its way down the hall. It hangs a left right into my bio class. I hope itâs tired. I am. Only one more period then we can go home.