Gene Prevatt and I were sitting on the other side of his desk in the Principal's office of Groves High School were we had made the grievous error of duct taping Mrs. Johnson's English class in her room.
The door opened to the inside so it was pretty funny when the tenth grade class rushed out as the bell rung while Mrs. Johnson screamed the homework assignments.
The fastest students ran right into the door of duct tape and bounced back into the second wave of slower students.
Principal Andrews was asking what we knew about the incident.
Gene locked guilty because he looked at the floor.
I remained zoned on Mr. Andrews beaked nose.
It would have been an immediate death sentence to look him in the eyes ... because one forever strayed to the right and the other to the left.
There was no way to look the man straight in the eyes.
Gene continued to stare at the floor and I was focusing so hard on his beaked nose I was starting to sweat which, of course, Mr. Andrews took as a sign of me cracking under pressure.
"Mr. Elliott," he said clearing his throat, "did either you or Mr. Prevatt bring duct tape to school with you today?"
It's hard to shake your head from side to side and remain focused on a nose when wild eyes are bouncing in every direction.
"He did," Gene announces now staring at his fingernails.
"What?" I exclaim.
"Mr. Prevatt," the Principal says. "Please proceed."
"We both had to bring duct tape for Shop Class," Gene explains. "But it was stolen from my locker."
Mr. Andrews shakes his head which is like trying to watch marbles bounce at the same time.
"It was," I offer remaining intensely focused on the beak nose. "I gave mine to Gene for safe keeping and it was stolen from his locker."
"And how do you know it was stolen?" Mr. Andrews presses looking somewhere pass Gene and it was at this point that he faltered.
Every so quickly Gene stole a glance at the Principal seeing the eyes looking at both his ears but not meeting his own eyes.
Gene busted out laughing.
Which of course made me bust out laughing.
Mr. Andrews found nothing funny in the room.
"Mr. Elliott," the Principal finally snaps, "do you have anything to add?"
"Yes sir," I say wiping tears from my eyes. "It wasn't me."
"Well it wasn't me," Gene quickly added.
"I see," Mr. Andrews concludes while staring off into another Universe.
We spent the rest of the day sitting there with Mr. Andrews until the 3:00 bell rang and he had to let us go.
Mrs. Johnson waited outside the office when we exited.
"You did it," she bellows, blond hair askew from frustration and the school's limited air conditioning system.
"Did what?" Gene says.
"It wasn't me," I add.
And that's all I have to say about that.
