Chapter 29 – School...School Never Changes

There are certain constants in life.

Most people cite death and taxes with a relevant or humorous third thing.

I'm still figuring out my constants but it can be assured that any cafeteria food I encounter will have a more wretched smell and consistency before it is eaten than several hours after the fact.

That said, I didn’t really have any other options. Sometimes I packed a non-wheat bread sandwich, or I had one packed for me. Not this time. I needed something and my standards were fairly low. So long as it had a consistent, expected color.

The line for the main dining area was excruciatingly-long and the annex line wasn’t much better but it felt shorter.

After the fourth period bell rung, I made sure to turn in everything to Mrs. Horwitz. She put a hand on my shoulder and told me again that everything would be alright. I smiled and thanked her, but my mind was already zooming ahead to the rest of the day. I took THE DARK HALL around to the area beside the staff parking lot and found there was already a line in front of the annex.

Aside from the option of waiting at the main dining hall, there were random vending machines around and outside it. The carousel ones held the same kinds of terrors I found at the hospital. My mom’s last visit there was several years ago for heart failure. My dad’s was relatively recent, when he had a bowel obstruction.

Maybe hospital experiences changed that kind of food for me, but I still wasn’t going to tempt it. Especially when it was often a mix of egg salad that looked a shade too dark and cheese and ham which looked two shades too bright.

Of course, we were already a long way from Taco Tuesday. Not that I would’ve tried that when I knew enough from others that it often transitioned into “When Will It Stop?!” Wednesday. Can’t take credit for that joke. All on Cody and he told it better.

So, by default, I found myself in the line for the annex hoping that whatever rejects from the cafeteria they served up were worth a line like I was waiting to get into an overbooked concert.

It was flesh to flesh with the pushing and mashing of body on body. I actually didn’t mind it. It was a small comfort. I could be there in that moment. An anonymous nobody pushed along by the crowd as it crept forward and edged through the doorway.

Mini-corndogs (I reminded myself I could have the regular kind now). Baked beans. Fries. With some sugary mixed fruit. Nothing special but at least they were all in a form I could easily carry. The corndogs were deep brown on the verge of charcoal and the sickly, clammy reek of human sweat gnawed at any aroma of food beyond a steamy, blasting crush of generic odors that would never be associated with nourishment. Best not to smell anything for the next few minutes and breathe as little as possible.

I picked out what I wanted and paid more than any of it was worth. But I had something by the time I squirmed my way out of there. Despite my relief to be free of that crowded monstrosity, it was a fun experience, especially right then.

My foam tray wasn’t going to hold up for long with all the hot items on it. I ate a few of the corndogs (wheat still wasn’t wowing me) to lighten the load and cut across THE DAAAAARRRRKK HAAAAALLLLL (last time, I promise) again to get to the front of the gym.

Back then, there was nothing between me and it. I just hopped over a patch of caving mud which used to be soft grass and went through the blacktop to the door out front. I was the first one there.

The front doors to the gym were sealed closed except for special events. So no chance someone would open it into my face. Tall weeping needle pines lined the side area which led to the faculty parking lot. While it seemed like you could drive up this area and around to the small pathway which led past the old stadium, I’d never seen anyone do it and the gates were almost always closed. Perhaps once I’d seen a truck on the blacktop by the gym but that was about it.

I used my bitterly rigid backpack to shield me from the dust, stuck gum, and roughness of the wall as I ate a little bit more. Nothing on my plate was particularly horrible, but I would never otherwise eat any of it by choice. The fries were petrified little twigs that didn’t crush, mush, snap, or do anything any rational fry should do. I wasn’t even sure if they were made from actual potatoes.

At least I had a bottle of water with me in my bag. From several weeks ago. Still drinkable. I massaged my temple and adjusted my glasses as I noticed the first of the group to arrive. It was Kenneth.

He was about my height with spiky brown hair and an eager smile. The only time I’d ever seen him get really mad was when, for reasons I can’t remember, we were talking about the President. He joked about how “Monica” wouldn’t be what you name your kids for a generation and Brian, not thinking, added ‘Ken’ for Ken Starr. With a glare, Kenny smacked him in the shoulder and stomped his feet. Of course, Brian was over six feet tall, so it was nothing more than a mosquito nip as it took Brian a long moment to realize what he'd said wrong.

“Hey, Kenny!”

He gave me a half-hearted wave and a squinting frown. He also kept his distance. Nothing to be worried about. Sometimes the lunch group didn’t come together at all and it was just me. I tended not to hang around those times.

Adding a rising nod, Kenny asked, “Sup?”

I shrugged and cleared my throat of hot dog bits before answering, “Not much. You know if anyone else is coming?” He was noncommittal on that. Before long, he mentioned that he had to go take care of something.

I kept eating. I was definitely thinking and worrying too much. There was very little chance most people knew anything about what was going on. If he did know, then I suspected he would’ve been clearer in his demeanor.

But then boys didn’t make much sense to me. Specific ones in particular. Just so hard to read them sometimes. Kenny might’ve had days where he was leaping off the pavement and talking up a storm and other days where he was moody and sullen. It didn’t seem to be predictable or anything. Whatever. Thinking too much again.

Brian made an appearance with his usual backpack and not-so-usual guitar. He’d brought it around once or twice, but it had been a while since I’d seen it. I greeted him as well and he gave me a cursory nod with the accent of a smile. He brushed his long, dark hair out of his eyes, set his jutting chin, and strummed on the cords with a silvery pick.

I had a vague sense of what song he was playing. He muttered the lyrics quietly to himself. Again, familiar. He’d shown me his favorite music CDs along with some new groups which looked too hard-edged for me then but which would feel quaint years down the line.

As I got through the last of the corn dogs, I asked him how his day was. Calmly, and with a light but pleasant frown, he answered, “Can’t complain….” I listened with a smile to the fragments of his day.

He didn’t sit but he lingered in slow, twisting circles until Kenny’s sister, Elizabeth, showed up. That wasn’t her real name but that’s as close as I can remember to her real one. She never had a moment that crystallized her name in my memories.

She was always nice though. She often wore her hair in a ponytail and dressed in jeans and a pale windbreaker. Covering her mouth, she gave a quick yawn before murmuring, “Hey there…What’s up?”

Her calm was reassuring. I returned it and told her, “Just been having a weird day. Weird week.”

Her blue eyes, accented with thin, nearly black eyebrows, squinted as she asked, “Weird?”

Brian let a note hang in the air before he turned to look at me. I brushed at my cheek and told them, “I kinda mentioned it to Cody. I was in the security office because of stuff. I saw the VP earlier in the week too.”

With a raised eyebrow, Brian let out a puff of air but didn’t offer a question. Liz adjusted the straps of her backpack and casually asked, “How come?”

I wanted to let the question linger and have Cody explain things. At the same time, I wasn’t sure if his version would be dramatized or confused or accurate. Best not to let spread false information and rumors about me unless I was spreading them myself.

I’d gotten a little bit of practice with telling my story. This time, I framed it, “I’m not even sure what’s going on. But like…I just got the thumbs up from my doctor to eat wheat for the first time I can remember…” I held up my last corndog to demonstrate and then swallowed it. I needed to make better food choices.

In this group, only Kenny and Cody really knew about my food allergy. I filled Liz in on the details and Brian nodded and listened as he strummed. As soon as she got the gist of it, she settled down on her backpack against an adjacent wall.

“So, why did that get you in trouble?”

I rubbed the back of my neck, brushed aside my hair, and threaded together the pieces, “Well, the day I started eating wheat again some weird stuff seemed to start happening. Some people in the restaurant where I had my first meal with wheat started to transform. And then the same thing happened in biology class at the beginning of this week.”

Liz squinted and gave me the sort of look I’d gotten more than once. Brian tossed me a glance as he started a new, slow song. I continued, “Then something happened to my friend, Wes, in my English class and it was a real shit storm.”

Lifting a finger, Liz snagged the thread, “Wait…you said people were transforming? Like how?”

“Boys turning into girls and girls getting like longer hair and different features and stuff…”

Brian’s last cord squeaked as he inquired, “No shit?”

I nodded and added, “My doctor says I’m fine though…basically he has no idea and no one at school has any idea either and I don’t know if it’s 'cause of me either.”

A bit of a lie. It was clearly me but then there was a remote possibility that it wasn’t me exactly. Brian cracked his neck and commented, “Sounds fucking weird….Whatcha gonna do?”

I appreciated that he listened to all that and didn’t take a step away from me.

Art by Alexis Rillera/Anirhapsodist