Robert Chippendale
Robert Chippendale
Robert Chippendale
IN the early morning light, robert chippendale, English teacher for more than 20 years at Tower High, punches in at 7:04. he will never touch the card again. he is unaware that before this day is over, Tower will be rocked by murder, spotlighted by the ten oclock new and denounced by the general public. Dressed in a blue jogging suit, he carries over his shoulder his sports jacket and newer slacks- his school clothes- in a garment bag, which he hangs in the teachers locker room. Lightly jogging down the stairs to the back dorr, he pushes it open to cross the short path to the running track. He lets his mind wander. Is it too late to change his life? Season spent running in circles, starting and stopping at the same point on the track, a metaphor, he thinks, for his teaching career, now rutted like the track itself,in the soft years of familiarity. he bends down to retie his laces and notices that the air is surprisingly
mild. he does not see the face inside the red-hooded sweatshirt, the body that bowls over him over. lying sprawled on the ground Chippendale tries to find the face, the morning sun blocking his view. he certainly hears the torrent of words.
The red- hooded sweatshirt
Hey, man, watch where you are goin. Aintcha heard of excuse me? hey im talking to you. Chippendale thinks, a morning run cancelled, an incident report to the dean a trip to the office. Not worth it, no way, not on this glorious winters day. The voice again: Hey man, wher you going? You owe me an apology. you think im nobody?
something psychotically edgy in the voice, more of a reason to let it drop. As Chippendale gets up, he watches the red-hodded sweatshirt pick up a long thin package and head through the back door, into the school, saying over his shoulder, who do you think you are, a movie star or somethin
Robert Chippendale
A good question, he thinks while stretching. who am i? average height
weght, no close relations. average person waiting in the movie line, single. description: light, curly brown hair; pleasant face; brown eyes. nothing special abou thim, the staff would say. A little nuts about running, but nothing outside the parameters of normalcy, even for teachers. Is he happy? who could know? eho wonders what what teachers think behind their lesson plans? He begins to run around the quater-mile oval. he thinks he hears several popping sounds, looks around, sees nothing. HE is ten yards intohis third lap when the shot rings out. He does not see, hear, or feel the bullet that exploades his brain like a star- burst rocket. He is dead before he hits the ground, instant blackness covering all.
Mike Curry
Whos shot? What happened? Where? See anything? please stay in your rooms. Gotta get into the hall. Whaddya hear? Four people shot? Cool ! Maybe the principal got it too. Pleae stay in your rooms. Teachers keepin us in. whaddya mean, where was I? Batroom, man. YOu cant make us sit down. I;m outta here, man. Whoa, whered all the cops come from? please stay in your rooms. Chippendale? Youre kiddin me, man, had him 2 terms ago, bor-ing, no life to him. Then or now, ha ha. please stay in your rooms. Yeah right. HEy, maybe ill make the ten oclock news. Cool !
The Note
Dear Ms. Falcone, You should leave Mr. Chippendale alone. Let him be forgotten, and me remembered.