The Politically Correct Pail

"Pipe down, this instant people," wheezed out Mrs. Frescia as she very gracefully placed Principles of Alkalinity and Solubility for the Slow Practitioner very neatly next to her box of chalk and duster.
"My head feels like its just been through a mincer. This migraine will be the end of me if not for all the chaos that you cause me each devastating day of pedagogic vocation I have to undego with you."

The class shushed themselves immediately, as Frescia let the noise die down on its own accord.

"We're really sorry miss," apologised Kevin from the end of the class. "A migraine must be quite a headache, is it not?" he inquired with a cheeky grin pasted on his face.
No sooner had he completed his silly statement when Frescia extracted a short stub of chalk from her box and launched it towards the rear. One and three twenty seventh of a second later the little dusty writing implement was sailing its way at breakneck speed above the sea of heads just before it landed a sharp sting right above Kevin's temple. He winced at the pain and cowered down, his smile condensing and his face flushing from the abrupt embarrasment. The class, unable to contain itself broke out in a frenzy of commotion comprising of cheeky chuckles and diminutive giggles while Frescia stood dreary eyed, still nursing her aching head.

The pupils once again, sensing the tension emanating from the front of the room, conducted itself in good grace and quietened down immediately for fear of provoking any further aggravation. Frescia's eyes rolled while she exhaustively thought, 'I've to be in a room full of half dimwitted, overly spunky kids, fill their every waking moment with a love for learning, instill a sense of pride in their ethnicity, behaviorally modify any disruptive behaviour, observe them for signs of abuse, fight any culturally fascist beliefs they may harbour, anarchist ideals, the war over drugs, be a paragon of virtue larger than life and encourage a respect for the cultural diversity of others, while also teach them chemistry. And I have to do all of this with a piece of chalk, a book, a bulletin board and a starting salary that scores under pimp commission. I need alcohol and valium.'

A quiet knock on the classroom door was more than sufficient for Frescia to allow herself to breathe a sigh of relief from chaos and the class to dwindle back into the usual chatter.

Ten minutes passed and the door to the room opened once again, having Frescia enter slowly, looking a lot less sick than she had been before she went out. The class went silent once again. Behind her followed an unfamiliar male face into the room of bewlidered looks. The looks of instant curiosity were more than prominent on each fellow's screwy face, leaving the girls to stare in lascivious awe at the man in question.

He stood 6 feet tall, well built with a face that seemed too bucolic and chiseled for a roomful of chemistry students.

"Class, meet our freshman entrant for this year - Jacques Gaultier."
The class recited in unison, "Hiiiiiiii....Jacques!"
"Hello," came the reply from the new entrant as he smiled and scanned the crowd in front as if looking for a mirage of some welcoming smile.
"Jacques here is from Colmar, France and it's his first time in our country, so I trust you will all make him feel completely comfortable in his new hometown and school," continued Frescia.
"Yes miss," came another unified reply as she silently thought to herself, '...bloody inconsiderate fucks. I hope this one brought his brains along from France. French kisses, French wine, French toast, French movies and French breath. Nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d'enculé de ta mère. Its like wiping your arse with silk.'

Frescia ushered him towards an aisle between the benches where there appeared to be vacant seats. Jacques made his way down the class amidst the coveting stares of the young women and the disgruntled look of haughty young men. Apparently, Gillian Cooper was the one who got the chance to smell Jacques' cologne. Jacques sat himself beside her after greeting her with a smile and a smart but soft spoken "Hello." Gillian smiled back and beckoned with her hand towards the chair beside her, informing him of its availability. As Jacques occupied his location, he was trying to cognitively ward of the inquiring stares of the class. Frescia noted the unwarranted attention Jacques was geting and boomed out to the class to get out their books and get ready for another session.

Butch Bailey yelled out cheerfully from the back,
"Miss... does that mean that we have one of them abse...err...absiday...ummm...new people in the class?"
"The word you're looking for Mr. Bailey, is 'abecedarian' and no he isn't out of elementary school. It'll just take him some time to get used to our scholastic routines."
Butch cowered down in his seat to dispel any focus from his side of the classroom.
"Use a new word ten times and it shall be yours for life" came the proverbial announcement from Frescia.
Somewhere at the back of the class Rajat Shourie was chanting away in cheeky softness, "Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, Amanda"

The topic for the day was a practical approach for students to find the chemical composition of pond water; namely alkaline, nitrite and nitrate.
"Right class, this experiment will require a few samples of ammonia compounds, nitrites and possibly a biologic converter and most importantly some pond water. Who's willing to undergo the laborious task of going over to Speyside and filling a canister full for the experiment?"

Frescia looked around at a crowd of apathetic faces before her eyes settled on the new entrant. "Maybe the young man who's just joined us may like to take up the task at hand...yes Jacques?" Jacques' face lit up, not really at the thought of going through manual drudgery, but just for the simple reason that he was chosen for a task on his first day in a foreign school.
"Ms. Cooper, would you be so kind as to gather whatever little is left of yourself and accompany Jacques around the school premises so that he doesn't lose his way?" continued Frescia, more an imposition than a requisition.
"Sure miss, I'd be glad to be of help."
'I'm sure you would' thought Frescia as she rolled her eyes praying for the day to end sooner.

The pair walked out of class, and the school compound with Gillian leading the way. She held Jacques hand while walking, affixing a stare that could almost burn a hole into the side of his face.
"Is it too far from here, Ms. Cooper?" inquired Jacques oblivious to her gaze, as they walked almost a metre into the ground.
"Call me Gill. It isn't too far."
"Shall we drive it down?"
"Up!"
"Up?"
"Yup, its over the dune just near the foothill. You own a car?"
"Well, yes. My father does atleast. Its his. I steal it early mornings to avoid the bus."
"Isn't that a dangerous decision to take?"
"A man with such muddled priorities does not deserve such a fine automobile. Arthur had his Excalibur, I have the Ford - close!"

Gillian giggled at the amusing replying, and followed him towards the car lot.
"Goodness, you have the brand new Ford Crown." she stuttered when she caught sight of the vehicle they were approaching.
"I'm impressed. You know about cars, yes?"
"Oh yes, I work part time in a garage after school hours."

The pond looked beautiful, just as it always did. Frogs ribbited and little freshwater fishes performed their gymnastics for no particular audience.
Jacques filled up the canister, a brimful and latched on the lock to secure the container. They lingered near the pond overlooking the picturesque countryside and Gillian stood alongside Jacques, utterly thrilled at being together with a devastatingly handsome Frenchman in a charming suburbia. Her shortlived fantasy was well...shortlived when they agreed that it was time to head back.

Jacques carefully maneuvered the car over the fairly steep elevation. The coming down would be quite an effort considering the car was heavy on chassis weight and Jacques was saving up on fuel consumption leaving the gear on neutral to let the car roll down on its own. As the descent began, Jacques kept his foot on the brakes to curtail unnecessary acceleration. The ride was smooth and the Cooper girl was smiling nervously. Something seemed amiss.

The car was accelerating faster now. Jacques futile efforts at keeping the car under control proved fruitless as the car picked up speed. Fear gripped her as she held her seat tightly.
"Go slow." she pleaded beseeching.
"I can't. My brakes are not working."
"What? Couldn't you have told me that before we got into this fucking dodgemobile? Maybe you could recite an Our Father"
"I'm Buddhist."
"What a time to be talking religion."

Faster!

"If we make it through this alive remind me never to introduce you to the rest of my friends."
"I will keep that in mind."

Jacques kept the car straight as it rolled down, stretched over to Gillian's side and pushed open her door.
"Get out!" he yelled.
"Out? Oh fuck you too, you fucking quirk. Keep your hands on the wheel. Christ, I don't wanna die with an unbroken hymen."
"You've never had sex?"
"Let's pretend that we don't know each other alright?"

The car was nearing the foot of the hill when the passenger door flung itself open. Instantaneously, a push and a shove followed, causing Gillian to spill out of the passenger side. She hit the grass and the first law of motion took care of the rest.

Back in the classrooms there was massive commotion. The staff department was running loose like a bunch of wild geese cackling away at other teachers and students alike.
The school assembled near the pavilion outside the school premises.
Rajat was running around looking for Kevin. And after five minutes of dedicated searching in chaos, he found him staring across the ground along with a crowd of faculty. As he reached Kevin's side he inquired out of breath,

"What's all the fuss about?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Don't try me bitch. What's up?"
"Well apparently...(sigh)...Jacques and Gill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water and I'm not talking nursery fucking rhymes here..."