The Missing Teacher: A Creative Short Story

My students were given an assignment today to write a short story and to be as creative as possible.  I came up with my own story and ran with it.  Here is my result.  (Maybe I should record it or vlog it, as performing adds a layer of fun both for me and for my audience.)

We arrived at school, and our teacher was not in the classroom.  No one knew where she was or when she was coming back. 

Our teacher had been on vacation in Cambodia.  While she was there, she was kidnapped by the Chinese and held prisoner.  The Chinese agents were in league with England’s Queen Victoria II, who was hatching a foul plot to release aborted leopard fetuses into the world’s food supply.  Our teacher was intended to be the guinea pig in their sinister culinary experiments.  The United States government would not allow such a travesty to occur.  They secretly sent their best agents—Chuck Norris and Jack Bauer—to our teacher’s rescue. 

What Chuck Norris, Jack Bauer, and the US government did not know was that our teacher had been trained by Israeli Mossad and could take care of herself.  She had gone on twelve secret missions to release kidnapped English waifs from forced labor in the mines of Ecuador.  She made short work of her Chinese captors, and when Chuck Norris and Jack Bauer found her, she was dissecting her captors’ bodies in Manchuria. 

Chuck Norris and Jack Bauer were instantly attracted to our teacher, and decided to battle to the death to win her hand in marriage.  It is not clear who won this battle, as our teacher would not be a prize and so fed the victor to her pet Komodo dragon, laughing as first the victor's beard, then his knees, and finally his feet were engulfed into the dragon’s gaping gullet. 

Deciding that the punishment was to fit the crime, our teacher kidnapped Queen Victoria II and banished her to slave in the mines of Ecuador, subsisting on the flesh of the aborted leopard fetuses she had so wickedly wanted to feed to the world.  Our teacher returned to our class and continued to instruct us in our studies. 

Little Things

Hello Friends,

This blog post by a friend of mine spoke to me.  It is so important to remember the important things in life.  I've found that it can be so easy to lose sight of the things that really matter.  Many of these are little things:  the perfect cup of espresso every afternoon, a laugh with a friend, a good movie, playing an instrument or singing songs with friends, or, if you're in my family, bathroom humor at the dinner table.  If I may, I'd like to digress to something that has been a simple pleasure for me lately.  I've been standing patiently outside in the afternoon, taking photographs of hummingbirds in my backyard.  Here's one of them, cropped to focus on the bird: 

Just yesterday, I was watching a hummingbird at the feeder when suddenly another flew up out of nowhere and chased the other away.  These feisty little birds chased each other around the yard a lot last summer, and it officially started again yesterday.  That's a line from one of my old favorite movies popped into my head:  "Aaah!  They're at it again!"  The hummingbird chaos reminded me of the scene from Mary Poppins when the gaggle of chimney sweeps is dancing on the roof.  This scene is sort of what the backyard feels like when lots of these little birds are buzzing around.  I also have a funny neighbor who is an old salt and whom I could easily picture shooting off fireworks like this, if he ever felt like it.  (And yes, I'm not ashamed to admit that I love the likes of Nietzsche, Jung, Joseph Campbell, and Wagner but still occasionally enjoy my childhood favorites such Disney movies and the Three Stooges.) 

I think what this did is suddenly remind me of things I had forgotten that were once so important and meaningful to me.  I had that experience a few weeks ago listening to a video of Anna Netrebko singing scenes from Act IV of Il Trovatore.  My grandmother played the piano, so almost from birth there was always music in the house.  Most of my childhood and youth was spent around people who played instruments or acted in plays.  When I went off to college and the people I knew went off in different directions, I put some of that musical-theatrical involvement aside to pursue my studies.  After I graduated, I went to Italy and fell in love with the sound of the mandolin.  Eventually I bought one from eBay and fiddled around with it.  Playing the mandolin was relaxing for me in a trying time.  But now I feel more than ever that music is something I need. 

There are so many questions and concerns in life, and they only increase as we grow.  What am I going to do for a living?  Where is the money going to come from?  Am I pursuing the right track for me?  We learn more about ourselves, we explore new paths that we discover, and we get lost along the way.  At least, I know I do.  But it's little things that bring us back, that remind us who we are and what we love, and what we need.  It is little things that give us pure joy.  It is laughter, it is hummingbirds, it is good food, it is good company, it is song and dance, it is a good story, it is a game of fetch with the dog.  These are the things that matter.  These are the things that make all of life's obstacles and challenges worth facing. 

I think the most important lesson that I've learned recently is:  Never forget where you came from.  Who you are and what you love begins at the cradle.  You may grow and learn more, but you never change.  At least, fundamentally, I know most of my quirky traits have been with me for a lifetime.  Artistically, my palate may have expanded, but it still relishes the same movies and music it did from every previous stage of development.  Special effects master Ray Harryhausen and writer Ray Bradbury once boasted that when they met at 18 years of age, they vowed always to hold onto their childhood love of dinosaurs.  That passion for dinosaurs fueled their lifelong friendship and produced some of the finest science fiction literature and fantasy films of the Twentieth Century.  It is so important to stay in touch with the inner child, the child who knows who his friends and family members are and who lives, almost, ignorant of anything else.  Ultimately, family, friends, and the little joys are what really matter.  They make us who we are, and they become the marks that we leave behind us.