Suicide Bomber

Why is there a suicide bomber in our class-room? It’s difficult not to stare, but we’ve come to the consensus that staring for so long at a suicide bomber might cause them to become uncomfortable and that probably wouldn’t be good for anyone. I try to reassure everyone that she looks like a respectable person, that I’m sure she has the appropriate license to carry around a suicide bomb. She hasn’t implicated any direct form of hostility. The fifth graders huddle together, shivering. They are wearing more expensive suits than I could afford when I was twenty-one. My assistant teacher confirms that there are no such things as licenses for suicide bombs; there’s also no such thing as suicide bombs. Everyone looks relieved. No, as in, nevermind, you sigh and reassume your state of impenetrable brooding.
Is she acting strange, for a suicide bomber? I ask the others if they know what normal suicide bombers act like. Maybe we can profile past suicide bombers and compare our suicide bomber to the average one. If ours is acting like an anomaly, maybe this is all just a coincidence and we’re just at the wrong place at the wrong time.
The fifth graders remind me of the seven dwarves. I hate children. I really hate children, I don’t know why I got this job. They look at me with those tiny mischievous perverted eyes. You compliment my reckless qualities. Allen, what the hell are you talking about. You make absolutely no sense. You’re still brooding. Make sure you finish brooding before you open your mouth otherwise everything that comes out makes no sense.
The suicide bomber is Indian. Middle Eastern. Possibly Haitian. I can’t tell. Has anyone here seen her before? If any of you guys have seen her before raise your hand. Guys. Guys, pay attention. If any of you have ever seen this woman before please raise your hand. Anyone? Nobody.
She’s beginning to look nervous. Stop staring at her. Is anyone here staring at her? One of the mothers of one of the fifth graders will look at the woman if no one intercepts her gaze. She’s going to kill us all if we don’t stop her. Quick, divert her gaze.
Encountering suicide bombers during field trips is not part of the job description. I am frantic. If that bomb goes off there will be blood on my hands. There will be blood on my hands. Allen, don’t be cute. You try to comfort me by telling me I won’t have any hands to get blood on if the bomb goes off. You are being so earnest that it forces me to disregard the fact that that’s probably the last thing I wanted to hear.
Garth. Garth take your hand out of your pants stop that. Kip stop teasing Garth. It’s not funny. Kip would you cut it out? Allen rushes over to herd the kids and distract them from me temporarily so I can worry over the situation in peace.
Do we know that’s a bomb? No, it looks like a bag. Did someone ask her if she was carrying a bomb? Did someone at least look into her bag I mean do we have any, proof, at all—so you did look into the bag? You almost did. You got pretty damn close and you’d bet on it. Do you gamble a lot? Are you any good?
No I don’t ask these last two questions. Garth get your hand out of your pants.
One of the mothers is doing yoga. She’s connected to her chi. That’s what they do in yoga, right. I try to strike a conversation with her but she is already connected to her chi. Okay. That’s alright. I don’t have the attention span to hold a conversation with anyone past the first sentence, anyway. However, I’m absolutely fantastic at starting conversations. If you ever need help starting conversation I come up with the best opening lines. And it’s a constant stream too, of opening lines. They just keep generating, never stopping.
Garth!
One of the mothers is having a panic attack. She pops two Xanax bars. Isn’t that a lot? I remember someone telling me a bar was a large dose of Xanax, but I could be mistaken. I try to shield the fifth graders from looking at the mother during her panic attack but they all catch on and just make her stand out, even more, oh, my, God, thanks a lot guys, really. Garth if I have to remind you one more time—
Allen makes this noise in an attempt to scare the kids but it sounds so wrong but they’re all struck dumb by his earnestness. It’s really a force to be reckoned with. It could stop any woman in their tracks, even the ones wearing heels.
Garth pulls me aside, blushing furiously. Garth sweety what is it you look terrible. You whisper that there’s something on your butt. There’s something on your butt? I give him a toothy smile to make him a little less uneasy. Why, what’s growing on your butt, a pimple? Let me give ‘er a feel, just bend over a little buddy, yeah…wait—
Did you just do what I think you did? Did you just squeeze out a turtlehead into my hand? Did you just shit into my hand? Did you just shit into my fucking hand? You fucking piece of shit child go scream for your mother go get your fucking mother and wipe this off before I smear it all over your goddamn face don’t you dare fucking life you piece of, fucking, shit I’m going to kill you. I am going to fucking, kill, you.
After I wash off the shit stains on my hand I walk with that intimidating curve damn I’m good I look pretty mean, and sleek, and lithe. Allen can you believe it that son of a bitch just fucking shit on my hand. What do you mean it probably wasn’t on purpose of course it was. Do you feel like shitting into your girlfriend’s hands when she rubs your ass and you forgot to take a dump beforehand? Do you just squeeze it out for her? Is that what you do you sick fuck. I can’t believe I even bother to consult you about these things.

The suicide bomber has showed no signs of leaving, but neither have we. She wants to play games she’s on of those bitches, oh, yeah, I can tell, I can see it in her eyes she wants to play games well then we’ll play games. I design these games cat you think I don’t know—all the fifth graders are screaming, the fifth graders, what’s going on, wasn’t anyone watching over them? Allen’s picking his knows in the other room alright. What is going on you guys why are you all staring at Garth. Oh, did he shit all over your hands too? Did he? Why am I not surprised. Why am I, not, surprised. I give him the didn’t anybody ever teach you how to wipe your ass? eye. This is too much for him, he is befuddled. Don’t worry sweety, just wait one second now—
Allen help with me with this before he starts sobbing. Hey is the suicide bomber staring at us. She is? Keep your eyes on her I think Garth did a number two in his pants. God the stench. That could have been on my hands. I almost want to thank you Garth for not shitting on my hands. Don’t worry I’ll drag you to the bathroom and you just wait there crying while I sick one of the mothers on you. Yeah now just…stay there. Stay there honey.

Okay everyone, we have to reconsider our options. The suicide bomber obviously plans to stay. No I don’t know who she is. No. No I don’t know where she’s from. We haven’t even, technically, left for the field trip yet. Maybe if we all form a synchronized exit we can escape unscathed. Okay. Yeah. Alright let’s practiced. Kids. Kids you first. Oh Garth are you feeling better…you are!
That’s, fantastic!
Okay. Okay is everyone ready? On three we’re going to make a break for it. Yes on three okay now. I’m going to start counting now everybody look at me. Yeah look at me. Okay three.
Two.
One.
Okay let’s move. Let’s go guys c’mon everyone together. Wait. Wait what’s she doing the bitch is getting up. She’s walking right toward us. Allen. Allen. Allen I’m overcome with dread where the hell are you. Okay everyone stick your heads into the bag let’s clarify this is not a bomb people.
Excuse me, who are you? Yeah. Oh you’re one of the moms going on the field trip? Oh that’s your son? Allen. Allen would you get over here I don’t know how to pronounce this kid’s name what did we call him again? Allen hurry this is fucking embarrassing.
She’s with us people. No she’s not a suicide bomber she’s one of the moms. That’s correct. Absolutely. She doesn’t look like a suicide bomber. No she doesn’t. I disagree. Why that’s a horrible thing to say but I can’t tell you that because you’ll get me fired, you bitch.
Allen where have you been you little rascal. You.

At home no one wants to go out and nor do they want to wait for me to cook. We order in Chinese food. Korean, whatever. My step-dad’s son, my step-brother, is staring, his eyes are fixated, on my tits. Mom who are these guys you meet and where do you meet them I mean do you even know this guy or did you just marry him on a whim like you do everything else in your life.
I come home to endure insufferable awkward silences? That kid won’t stop staring at my goddamn tits. What’s wrong with him? Can you see this buddy? Yeah. Your son is kinda like, uh, staring at my tits? Oh God. Oh God not you too. That is disgusting. Mom seriously, where do you meet these guys. My step-dad, like, just checked me out.
I go visit my little brother. There has to be some sanity left in this household. Apartmenthold. No those don’t exist I don’t know oh the door’s open. Mom. Mom where’s Brandon. What’s this powder, on his desk…wait a second. Is this what I think it is? Brandon are you in the bathroom? You are. Get out here. Right now. Right the fuck now. We have to talk what is this. So it is cocaine. Are you brain-dead this is one of those things you hide before indulging in.
I am furious right now. A cokehead? My little brother? When? How long is it serious? It is? Oh my God haven’t you told Mom? Brandon. Brandon look at me. You need to get help. You need to get help right now. No, not tomorrow, right now. This isn’t a joke Brandon. Brandon what are you doing. Okay. Okay kid you get your hands off me. Wait what are you doing. You can’t do that. You can’t just evict me from your room like some barbaric teenager.
This entire family is going to hell. All of you can kiss my ass. I rummage for some money; going to spend the night at Nikki’s. No that’s not the name of a prostitute.

Yay, Nikki. Nikki. Nikki pick up. Nikki pick up the phone. Nikki pick up the phone, you fucking bitch. Nikki! How are you! Yeah I just moved back in a couple days ago. What are you doing tonight do you wanna hang out do you want to do something with me. Oh. Oh you can’t why not? Where are you going? Can’t you—oh, okay. Yeah I’ll just, lounge around here and catch up with, them, I guess. Yeah. Yeah call me if anything changes okay. I’ve missed you. Yeah. Yeah okay bye. Fucking bitch lying so fucking bad.
I’m not going mom. No she’s fucking some new guy or something I don’t know. Sorry I didn’t mean to swear. Sorry. Sorry, Jesus Christ! Why don’t you go solve the problem of your new husband staring at my goddamn tits? Fucking bitch.
I’m going to bed. I hate this family I can’t believe I grew up with any of you. Oh, here’s my brother, the cokehead. Yeah what’s up. You’re all like, coked up. Yeah. You’re so fucking cool. Shithead. All of you can die in, fucking, hell. I hope you all die in hell. Seriously.

What do you mean that wasn’t the suicide bomber. Wait so there are two of them? What do you mean. So the chick that came with us last night wasn’t the suicide bomber than who was? That doesn’t make any sense there is absolutely zero evidence to support that. Okay just because someone’s not white doesn’t make them a suicide bomber. Oh look, a suicide bomber. There’s another one. And another one. Fucking bitch. Please don’t fire me because I forgot to smile at you. Fucking bitch. Your neck, yeah your neck, it looks like a turkey gizzard, it’s gobbling at me. You neck is gobbling at me that is fucking, disgusting.
There is not another suicide bomber that’s enough we’re not going over this again.
Wait, Allen, so I have to teach all of these classes? But. But I failed math. No, you don’t understand, I probably failed fifth grade math too. I cannot teach math, it’s simply not happening. Not happening!
Like what the hells is that gizmo sign it looks like a sandwich. Divisible. Disavability sign? What is that di you just make that up? No one ever taught me what that was. I’ve never even seen one of those before. What is it. Oh it’s a division sign, okay, well you could have just said that. Oh this is easy alright I remember this stuff. And that’s the multiplication sign. Like, PEMDAS or whatever the fuck it was, right. No I didn’t just say fuck. Oh stop it what are you, five. Would you shut up?
There are no suicide bombers. None. No. There are no suicide bombers. Kids settle down. There never was an original suicide bomber how can their be a second one. Okay who told you that. That is not true whoever told you that can sit in the hallway. That is not true Jake that’s absurd.
Okay when you’re at home, you guys can listen to your parents, but when you’re at school, you listen to me, alright? Yeah. I don’t care if your fucking Botox-junkie mom is a goddamn, hick racist bitch. Oh God. Oh God don’t do that. Every time I watch your mouth move I hear these babies, crying, and they won’t stop. It’s driving me nuts oh God Allen!
Where’s Allen.
Okay wait who is that. Wait. Excuse me who are you? Oh God. Oh God wait. Is that a bomb? No. No this is not happening. No, stop. Turn that thing off stop that, now. No you listen to me you fucking towel-head. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God I’m going to fucking die, I’m going to fucking, die. This was all for nothing. My life is ending. Don’t smile at me you fucking sand nigger. Oh God. Okay we’re not just going to sit here and die no. Okay kids, kids, okay who just said, Jake would you shut the fuck up can’t you see this is a fucking life or death fucking situation here, here take the kid, blow these fucking kids up just let me go, okay? What do you want can I bribe you with something to spare me alive? No please. No. No I don’t want to die stop. Stop this isn’t happening. Why. Why are you doing this. What did I do to you. I didn’t to anything to you. I spent my whole life not doing anything to you and I always stood behind you fucking towel-heads and this is how you repay me. No. No. No this is not happening. No. Oh God.