The Mental Maunderings of a Mad Man

Whoever designed and created school bells must have a harpy, quite literally, for a wife as I assume the ear-splitting, migraine inducing sound that emanates from those humble mesh squares in the wall must be recorded by such a being. My joyous whistling is drowned out by the buzzing of the fourth hour bell and I shamble past the first people spewing forth from the various doors lining the hall and direct myself towards the office once more.

“I’m back.” I note casually to the secretaries as I enter. They stare at me blankly and one smacks her lips as she repositions the stick of Wrigley’s in her mouth. “Just thought you should know.” I grumble and turn away out of the cramped office and into a herd of freshmen rushing forwards to their next class. “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” I encourage them, smacking a few on the rear as they stream past, “The tardy bell tolls in just a few moments and if you’re late you get locked out!” I chuckle sadistically as the new students redouble their efforts to enter class on time and I smile as schadenfreude seeps into my veins and soothes my seared nerves.

All thoughts of my recent and ever so curious encounter with the galactic goddess or whatever she claimed to be fade away as I stalk through the halls and make for the gym. Only the oddly heavy metal hanging loosely from my neck keeps the memory alive as it slaps hard against my cool flesh with every step of my uneven gait. I sigh and finger the suddenly warm trinket as I turn into the locker rooms. My focus shifts once more and I abandon inspecting the alien amulet.

‘Better just to not even think about the things I can’t explain.’ I mutter below my breathe to myself as I open my locker and strip down.Slip a scratchy ‘Property of’ t shirt over my head and pull a pair of tight basketball style shorts up to my waist ignoring the worried cries of underclassmen as they’re pushed and shoved, or depants and mocked, or whipped with sweaty shirts and tossed fully clothed into a cold shower. I ignore them because any attempt at intervention is doomed to fail, I took more than my fair share of hazing, if you can call it that, when I was new here, they can deal with it for a while longer and come out just fine. I did.

I move quickly to the gym and watch as the stragglers are screamed at and ushered in by our bear of a coach, Shaw.

“DOUBLE TIME! DOUBLE TIME!” he screeches, blowing hard into his humorously small whistle after each command. “You ladies’ll be out runnin’ laps again today since some of you couldn’t be bothered to finish your lifts on Friday!” he explains the drill for today as the young men surrounding me groan in distaste and disgust. “What’s that?” Shaw questions with a deviant smile, “You ladies wanna do sprint laps instead?” Everyone begs not to do any such thing, “Well OK then, since YOU all insist!” Shaw claps his meaty hands together and spits into a nearby waste bin, he misses but fails to care, “LET”S GO!”

I jog slowly out to the track with the dozen or so other men around me, Shaw takes the opportunity to ensure that the school golf cart is fully operational and can bare loads in excess of three hundred pounds.

A faint shimmer of light, or more accurately a faint shimmer lacking light if such a thing were possible, catches my sight of to the edge of the practice field in-between the bus barn, the equipment shed, and the smoker’s alley. I shift my eyes until Shaw’s in my line of sight and plan my escape. At the perfect moment Shaw becomes preoccupied by a freshman’s “phony” asthma attack and I dash away from the ignorant men on this imbecilic march.

My detour takes me right into the alley called smoker’s paradise and the stench of hocked and stolen Marlboro’s fills my lungs. I wheeze for a brief second and gasp for breath.

“And I don’t even smoke…” I ponder the worn state of my lungs aloud.

“Really?” A soft, heavily accented voice calls out to me, “So you wouldn’t happen to have a light on you?” I look to my right and through the smoky mist that perpetually hangs here and burns my corneas I am greeted with what I’ll chalk up to the second strangest sight of the day. “So about that light?” A light blue pegas- Alicorn repeats.

“Yeah,” I stutter and grab a stray disposable lighter laid carelessly on the windowsill next to me, “Here you go miss…?” I light the blue Alicorn’s long, fancy cigarette and stare at her uncertainly.

“Sis always told me how bad smoking is for me,” she gripes after a long drag on the biri, “She always pesters me about how unhealthy it is and how unbecoming for a princess it can be,” she purses her lips and blows slowly exhaling a neat circle of smoke. As I watch the smoke ring shifts into a caricature of the goddess I’d seen only a quarter of an hour earlier. “Such a hypocrite,” she carries on and I simply listen out of sheer, morbid curiosity, “She barks at me for enjoying a fine cigarette every now and again but if I ever even dare to mention her stash of “Medicinal” alcohol, or her dozens of “escorts”, or even all the cake she throws a royal, excuse the pun, tantrum and sulks for days. Ugh!” The princess’s sister, who I can only assume to also be royalty, looks at me expectantly.

“Absolutly.” I agree and nod stupidly.

“At least somepony, sorry, someone understands me!” A mouthful of teeth so white that I suspect bleach had played a part in their coloring flash kindly at me and I return the sentiment. “Oh, but where are my manors?” She suddenly asks me. “I am Princess Luna, Goddess of the night and bringer of the Moon, you are?”“A pleasure to meet you Princess,” I bow slightly, “You can call me-”

“JUS WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOIN’ OVER THERE?!” Shaw screams at me.

“And who is that pleasant sounding fellow?” Luna asks inquisitively.

“That would be Shaw…” I mutter sourly and look over my shoulder at the approaching golf cart as it putters along. “And I’m about to get-” I look back to find no one near me, “In a load of trouble.” I finish lamely.

“WHY aren’t you running?” Shaw demands to know. “And WHY are you over here in smoker alley?”

“I wanted a toke before I ran your laps.” I deadpan and chuckle as Shaw’s chubby face turns two shades brighter red than usual.

“Boy you’d had better hightail it over to that track right now or else imam make you regret ever passin’ the eighth grade!” Shaw threatens.

“Just because you couldn’t manage it doesn’t mean I’ll be regretting it.” I reply with defiance.

“BOY,” Shaw speaks through clenched teeth as a vein in his brow appears and throbs dangerously, “You’d best be gettin’ over there. NOW!” I obey Shaw’s order and start jogging towards the track but my jog soon turns to a run and then a full on sprint as he bumps me with the front of the golf cart and follows as closely as he can without actually running me over.

As I tear across the field with an angry gym coach in a vehicle made to carry little old ladies around the greens a realization occurs to me. I look down at my chest and see not one but two trinkets on two chains, one golden and one blackened, bouncing with every step.

“Heh,” I laugh as Shaw speeds up forcing me to do so as well, “I guess I got a present from Luna too.” My laughter fades as I approach the asphalt of the track but my silent and unexpressed pleasure remains as the small, black moon medallion weighs down solidly and comfortably on my neck and chest right alongside its celestial companion as I run.

‘Can this day get any weirder?’ I wonder as Shaw rounds us up like cattle and has us head back inside.

“To be honest,” I mutter as we march back in doors, “Some weirdness would be a welcome change.”