Have You Seen Mr Foster?

Tonight's Episode

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Mr. Foster was a creep. He was weird. He’d stand in front of a classroom, rocking up on his heels, thinking very highly of himself, saying inappropriate and unnecessary things to the kids. Someone his age feeling so large, purposely dominating and belittling people less than half his age was incorrigible.

He knew how to ingratiate himself with the “right families” though, and he constantly chatted up the administration to maintain his stature among the staff and faculty. Over the years, many of the so-called “loser” kids complained about him. Anyone who complained about Mr. Foster had to be a “loser”.

Nothing was ever done. When he would insult them, place his hands on them in domineering ways, like grabbing their arms, or standing behind their seat and putting his hands on their shoulders. Or, like making references to their family situation in front of the other kids, and generally exposing the vulnerabilities in the way that a person with arrested development does.

It had been going on for years. For so many years kids had these stories, and they remembered the stories their older siblings told them. Then, when the younger siblings would later have him as a teacher, they would experience the behavior. Even the kids designated as the “good kids” were feeling a certain way, because they didn’t want to be associated with this dynamic. It was uncomfortable for them, as well.

Homecoming day approached. Foster was telling all the kids about the Homecoming’s of the past, and how much effort had to be put into protecting the sacred ceremony from the “losers” and “wannabes”. He told stories of the kinds of things that had to happen to engineer the event in ways that weeded out the “bad seeds” from participating. Insuring them that they wouldn’t have to worry about their rite of passage being ruined.

After so many years of this, and since there was so little concern from the Admin for the well-being of the student body as a whole, the coddled kids and the outcasts had pretty much decided that they had more interest in coalescence than tolerating the forced alienation and the ill-intended profiling of their fellow students.

The big night finally arrived. All was in place. The floats, the pomp and ritual; the marching band; the team waiting at the tunnel where they break through the big logo and through the gauntlet of cheerleaders.

In character, Foster was out on the sideline, shmoozing with the coaches, and the booster club, and all the influential adults. It was his custom however, to make sure he was in the middle of the bleachers, among the kids when the team entered the field.

Of course, he made his way into the crowd. A legend in his mind, smiling and shaking hands with the kids and parents there, because everyone was so happy to see him, of course they were. He worked his way to a spot with the popular kids and invited himself to sit, because naturally, anyone would want to be the ones who get to sit with Mr. Foster. He was such a neat guy.

The moment was building, everyone knew, at any moment the team would emerge into the field. Then the announcer came in. The team was announced, and a cacophonous frenzy erupted. Everyone was on their feet, stomping and screaming at the top of their lungs. The players circled the field and made their way to the sideline for the pre-game pep-talk from the coach, and all attention was on the field.

As the crowd began to settle, behind the bleachers, one of the school electric carts used for carrying equipment and refuse slowly, unnoticed, made its way back to a dark corner of the parking lot and faded into the woods.

Coincidentally, Mr. Foster wasn’t at work on Monday morning. In fact, no one has seen him since that big game that one year.

685 Words

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