Vice

“Shhh! How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet. Vice! Are you listening to me? Come switch desks with Chloe,” Mariella shouted over the fifth grade students, not one of them acknowledging her, not that they could even hear demands over their own noise. Vice continued to tilt his chair onto its back two legs and poke the boy next to him with his pencil. Seconds later, the same pencil went flying across the room and landed safely in the hair of Veronica, who squealed out as if she had been slashed across the face with a razor. Mariella pressed her forehead into the sharp edge of Mrs. Stephens’ desk. She never understood how someone could claim to hate children; and then she became a substitute teacher.

With a dramatic flair of her wrist, Mariella branded the only weapons she knew the kids would respond to, a pen and a sheet of paper to write a bad note for their teacher. “Vice, who names their kid Vice?” she muttered under her breath, not that it mattered, the students were so adept at ignoring her she could have shouted at the top of her lungs and not one of them would have absorbed her words. “You name your kids after addiction and wonder why he acts like he’s doing speedballs in the bathroom. That’s like naming your daughter Temptation and wondering why she’s a whore.” If she hadn't been in such a foul mood she would have been able to make some clever connection between meth and ADHD medication, which she didn’t need a medical degree to know Vice was in desperate need of, both being stimulants. But the witty comment evaded her.

Chloe, a particularly small girl who sat at the front of the classroom due to her poor hearing, was the only one who noticed the rapid movement of Mariella’s pen. She elbowed the girl next to her and she repeated the action to the boy beside her. After a long train of jabs to the ribs and apathetic giggles the class became quiet as they watched their substitute teacher furiously write. “Are you writing to Mrs. Stephens?” Chloe asked.

“Smart girl,” Mariella grumbled.

“Are you writing a note to Mrs. Stephens?” Chloe repeated.

“Am I in the note?” Vice shouted from the back of the class with the side of his mouth perked up into a grin.

Mariella’s hand went still and she tossed the pen down. She looked up and met Vice’s eyes. “What do you think?”

The boys in the class let out a series of barking laughs. “Shee,” Vice said with an almost delighted grin.

The kids were in the habit of replacing any swear word with just the first syllable of the word: “fuhh, ahhh, shee, dihh.” It made Mariella clamp her eyes shut and grind her teeth together anytime she heard them say it. They didn’t understand why she got so annoyed with them since they claimed, “We’re not even saying a bad word.” She would explain that she wasn’t born yesterday and knew what they meant. And she would avoid telling them that she would prefer them to just say the word in its entirety, to have some balls and own their disobedience; but she didn’t want any angry calls from parents about how she was encouraging kids to swear.

“Vice, stop it with that.”

“Man, I didn’t even do nothing.” Vice jumped out of his seat and threw his hands up.

“For the love of God, just sit down and be quiet.” A large part of her, the part that housed her brain told her to just ignore him, that they loved to see her angry, but her mouth was a separate entity, it formed words and lashed out on its own. She just couldn’t help herself, never had been, a long trail of ruined friendships followed her as proof. A college roommate accused of stealing jewelry, a boyfriend accused of cheating, a coworker accused of spreading rumors. Each argument littered with, “And let me tell you another thing—” as the other person was walking away, luring them back in for another round.

Vice paced at the back of the classroom whipping his arms around as if he were in a boxing match. “Boom, boom, pow! Boom, boom, pow!”

Mariella nearly took him up on his silent invitation to fight, it didn’t necessarily compromise her morals to beat up a ten year old, if the ten year old was annoying. But, she was not in the mood to get fired, and possibly arrested, instead, she took a deep breath, as if she were going to meditate, and let out a scream. The students went quiet as Mariella’s face turned red. She trailed off as her lungs emptied out, then took three heaving breaths and screamed again. The pitch was making her own ears ring. She only stopped when she began to tip over and she was sure she was going to pass out. She looked out over the classroom. Stunned faces, some with their mouths hanging wide open, others with their hands cupped over their ears, stared back at her. Chloe had removed her hearing aids and had tears welling up in her eyes. Mariella couldn’t help but laugh at them and the students joined her.

Soon, they were louder than they had been before. Mariella was doubled over laughing. No one heard the knock on the door and it took everyone by surprise when it ripped open to Mrs. Reeseman stomping in. “Never in my fifteen years of teaching,” she began, shrill and ear-peircing, “Have I ever been able to hear a class three doors down, with the door shut!” The students regarded her with blank expressions and slow blinks. Mariella, however, avoided looking at the woman, she shrunk into herself, hunching her shoulders and staring at her lap. Mrs. Reeseman continued, “This is highly unacceptable behavior, all of you are losing recess and the principal will hear about this.” She slammed the door on her way out. Mariella chewed on her upper lip and pretended to pick from gunk from her eye to hide the tears that began to fall.

“What a bih,” Vice shouted out. No one laughed, the silence was uncomfortable and heavy.

“She really is, isn’t she?” Mariella responded. She took the note to Mrs. Stephens that she had written and tossed it in the trash. “Who does she think she is coming in here and yelling at my class? Acting like I can’t control a bunch of fifth graders, how disgustingly embarrassing.” She began to work on her new note:

Mrs. Stephens,

It was a pleasure to work with your class today. They were

nothing but respectful. Vice had a lot of helpful insight.

Mariella Fitzgerald