Albert
Someone called Mike Pike (or similar) offered me a job. He always wore a suit and was a headmaster or professor at a prestigious educational residence. It was some sort of trainee, research position which also incorporated an element of teaching. I jumped at the chance, particularly as I had an avid interest in his area of expertise. It was a golden opportunity and almost seemed too good to be true!
On my first day there's the obligatory tour and introduction to staff and students. All seems fine and dandy but all day long I notice that Mike Pike seems, well, oddly on edge. He speeds up stairs and through corridors, scurrying along at a frantic pace. His eyes never stay still, they dart this way and that, scanning north, east, south and west; constantly on guard. He treats me with exaggerated courtesy, going out of his way to provide tea and snacks, extra furnishings for my room -
"Anything you fancy - Anything at all? No really. You name it, you've got it."
When we talk he's apologetically polite; intones my name with sugar-laden familiarity and tip-toes over details with a light, evasive air. In my mind he starts to take on the persona of a slimy, desperate car salesman or estate agent. I can't help but feel suspicious and begin to suspect he's keeping something from me...
He shows me the "Pool" (seemed like the sea or a natural lake, but all situated indoors) and we suited-up into scuba gear. His research seemed to involve the study of the bizarre flora, fauna and life-forms of the Pool bed). Down in the deep we swam, witnessing a magnificent, colourful array of strange never-before-seen-creatures. I felt honoured and privileged to be witnessing such wonders.
Then, as we climbed out of the pool, Mike Pike asks - in a quick, contrived, it's-now-or-never manner that betrays his reticence to say it:
"Oh, by the way, I did give you the letter didn't I?"
"Er, no. What letter?" I reply.
"Oh, it's just this letter we give to all new staff" Mike says as he magically produces it and hands it over.
I open the envelope and begin to read. Below is a roughly recalled summation of it's content:
Dear New Member of Staff
It is our pleasure to welcome you to Such & Such School. We hope that you will find your time with us both enjoyable and rewarding. We value and respect all our staff and believe it is through their contribution that the school achieves excellence. We trust that you will develop a fond relationship with our student body.
In particular we would like to make you aware of one of our students: Albert, whom some of the students have unkindly nicknamed "The Biting Boy". Albert is a warm and friendly child who shows much promise. Unfortunately, he has been known to bite both staff and students. It is for this reason that we recommend that all staff abstain from wearing shorts or short-sleeved shirts. It is recommended that you bare the minimum amount of flesh as possible so as not to facilitate one of Albert's fits.
In the event that you are bitten please be assured that recent medical checks have ensured that there is no current risk from rabies or infection of any kind.
We look forward to working with you.
Yours sincerely
Mike Pike
The letter scares me. But before I can ask Mike Pike any further details he rushes away. Leaving the pool building I'm caught in a throng of slowly marching, mingling students. Panic starts to set in as I nervously eye their faces, wondering if one of them is the notorious Albert...
"Hello, Sir" an innocent looking lad pipes up.
I casually nod acknowledgment, taking a couple of side-steps to distance myself from the group. Once they've passed, and no one's looking, I sprint away - hurtling for the safety of my room, haunted by the fear of an attacking Albert.
On my first day there's the obligatory tour and introduction to staff and students. All seems fine and dandy but all day long I notice that Mike Pike seems, well, oddly on edge. He speeds up stairs and through corridors, scurrying along at a frantic pace. His eyes never stay still, they dart this way and that, scanning north, east, south and west; constantly on guard. He treats me with exaggerated courtesy, going out of his way to provide tea and snacks, extra furnishings for my room -
"Anything you fancy - Anything at all? No really. You name it, you've got it."
When we talk he's apologetically polite; intones my name with sugar-laden familiarity and tip-toes over details with a light, evasive air. In my mind he starts to take on the persona of a slimy, desperate car salesman or estate agent. I can't help but feel suspicious and begin to suspect he's keeping something from me...
He shows me the "Pool" (seemed like the sea or a natural lake, but all situated indoors) and we suited-up into scuba gear. His research seemed to involve the study of the bizarre flora, fauna and life-forms of the Pool bed). Down in the deep we swam, witnessing a magnificent, colourful array of strange never-before-seen-creatures. I felt honoured and privileged to be witnessing such wonders.
Then, as we climbed out of the pool, Mike Pike asks - in a quick, contrived, it's-now-or-never manner that betrays his reticence to say it:
"Oh, by the way, I did give you the letter didn't I?"
"Er, no. What letter?" I reply.
"Oh, it's just this letter we give to all new staff" Mike says as he magically produces it and hands it over.
I open the envelope and begin to read. Below is a roughly recalled summation of it's content:
Dear New Member of Staff
It is our pleasure to welcome you to Such & Such School. We hope that you will find your time with us both enjoyable and rewarding. We value and respect all our staff and believe it is through their contribution that the school achieves excellence. We trust that you will develop a fond relationship with our student body.
In particular we would like to make you aware of one of our students: Albert, whom some of the students have unkindly nicknamed "The Biting Boy". Albert is a warm and friendly child who shows much promise. Unfortunately, he has been known to bite both staff and students. It is for this reason that we recommend that all staff abstain from wearing shorts or short-sleeved shirts. It is recommended that you bare the minimum amount of flesh as possible so as not to facilitate one of Albert's fits.
In the event that you are bitten please be assured that recent medical checks have ensured that there is no current risk from rabies or infection of any kind.
We look forward to working with you.
Yours sincerely
Mike Pike
The letter scares me. But before I can ask Mike Pike any further details he rushes away. Leaving the pool building I'm caught in a throng of slowly marching, mingling students. Panic starts to set in as I nervously eye their faces, wondering if one of them is the notorious Albert...
"Hello, Sir" an innocent looking lad pipes up.
I casually nod acknowledgment, taking a couple of side-steps to distance myself from the group. Once they've passed, and no one's looking, I sprint away - hurtling for the safety of my room, haunted by the fear of an attacking Albert.
posted by The Dreamer | 3:24 AM
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