Feb 1987
Curious junior Curt Stockton is in his assigned seat in first period study hall before the bell, drawing some dark, furry creature that's mostly a primate's head, looking upward somewhat wistfully, with duck-bill feet, rope arms and dragging hands. Just as Nick walks up someone asks Curt what the hell that is, he just turns up with sleepy eyes and chants,
I got a big BLLLLLB...BLL-BLL-BU-BLLL-BLLLLLB
In a compelling low teeth-clenched growl.
"Nifty," the other dude offers, then just as the bell rings Nick remarks that it looks like some some kind of 70s album art and they take their seats, a space apart, with Nick two seats behind Curt alphabetically.
First period study hall fell to Doc Benson this term, balding and tenured, pretty much a sure sentence to everyone who doesn't go to the county voc that will need Government to graduate. The seating chart, as much as possible, staggers the occupants diagonally throughout the room, consensus is that has to do with Sigmund Freud smiling in his grave.
After the bell rings and whosoever will are dismissed to the library, at the click of each minute on the centrally synchronized clocks Stockton would hit it again, subtly,
I got a big BLLLLLB...BLL-BLL-BU-BLLL-BLLLLLB
Expertly metered to just a 7 or 8 seat radius, and after a couple times it gets a bit bolder as folks chime in,
I got a big BLLLLLB...BLL-BLL-BU-BLLL-BLLLLLB
You have to keep the tongue against your front plate, and Curt seems to keeps a beat on Benson, who may have already caught on, but for now,
I got a big BLLLLLB...BLL-BLL-BU-BLLL-BLLLLLB
Definitely getting a bit of support among those just staring at their books, or acting like it, although Katrina “HellKat” Yaeger is red in the face and subtly shaking with hysterics but able to conceal it from the front with her paperback.
Each click brings more and more of a make or break, this can't go on forever, but surely not till the next bell, seems at least half a dozen voices strong now, click,
I got a big BLLLLLB...BLL-BLL-BU-BLLL-BLLLLLB
Nick takes a look out the window and chimes in from the side of the mouth this time. After scratching and looking back down he stares up at the front wall, as if deep in thought, about ten feet from the front desk but it's pretty clear Benson is scanning for suspects.
Stockton, cool beans in a buzz cut, all this time sitting back thumbing through some car mag, which tends to direct his voice toward the back where it needs to be.
This is crazy, a bit too crazy, Nick struggles to keep his ears from flushing, click,
I got a big BLLLLLB...BLL-BLL-BU-BLLL-BLLLLLB
"Gentlemen I believe choir auditions were a few months ago, but we can arrange a review if you wish." Benson had been perched on the front desk the past couple rounds glaring before he spoke up.
Well crap.
Stockton turns toward the window and issues a sly grin from the side. It's over. Wayyyy too soon.