The boy liked making tiny origami weapons-- swords, spears, axes-- and leaving them on his desk for the next class to find. John had started with small, wrinkled weapons, dropping them inconspicuously in his classroom as the group left for lunch. He quickly accelerated into larger, more complicated weaponry. One day he would leave a fully functional catapult under his desk and hope no one would step on it. The next he would bring in a three-foot spear and hang it across the coat rack. One time he even replaced all the pencils in the classroom with miniature swords, leaving a sticky note on his desk that simply stated, "FIGHT!!"
His teacher, of course, knew he was doing it. He was the only kid in class who actually paid attention when Mrs. Moore talked about the great wars. She did not mind, though. The other classes enjoyed trying to figure out which student prompted them to assault their fellow students.
Well, everyone except Wanda.
The girl had a head full of cornrows and a brain stuffed full. She knew more about Ancient History than the teacher herself. The weapons John placed in the classroom left the other students mock-fighting and puzzling over who was their weaponsmith instead of listening to her report on Ancient Mesopotamia. To be frank, it drove her nuts.
Being the smart cookie she was, she deduced that it was John leaving behind the weapons of mass destruction on her desk every day. It only took a minimal amount of snooping and spying. Her only problem was she did not know what to do about it.
One dreary Friday, during lunch, Wanda spotted a book sticking out of John's backpack. (Though to this day, she will deny ever staring for an extended period at the boy.) A book of origami. She thought she saw the tip of an ax that had disrupted her pop quiz on the cover. And a plan began to form in her mind.
Before their classes started again, John left his backpack on his bench, unzipped, of all things, chatting with his friends at the other side of the table. Wanda, sweat dribbling down her brow and a determined twist in her mouth, walked by, pulling out not one, not two, but three books of origami that had been shoved haphazardly in the rebel's bag. In the bathroom, she buried the books under her 8-year-old pencil bag, a nervous churn in her stomach but a sneer on her lips. She tried to leave the bathroom casually, but she could not control the quickening of her heartbeat as much as her feet. Wanda went through two classes—Math and Social Studies—before she was finally confronted by John himself.
“Give me the books,” John demanded, crossing his arms, and leaning on the wall, blocking Wanda’s path to English.
“Only if you promise not to kill anyone with them,” Wanda replied smoothly, ditching her idea of playing dumb.
“Technically, I don’t kill anyone with them. I just provide the tools for death,” John countered without batting an eye.
Wanda sized up the tan, year-older, broad-shouldered boy in front of her. Her first option was to run, but who knew what a boy obsessed with war would do once he caught up with her. The second option was to continue arguing with John until the bell rang, but she would need a new idea for when school was over. There was a third option, though...
“You mean you’ve never actually fought with your weapons before?” Wanda asked, mimicking John, and raising her eyebrows.
“What do you mean?” John said skeptically.
“You’ve never had a battle; you’ve only made the weapons?” Wanda clarified.
John worked his jaw. “Maybe.”
Wanda laughed a fake laugh, doubling over.
“It’s not that funny,” John said, shifting uncomfortably.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Nuh-- Ok, tell you what.” Wanda smiled. “Tomorrow--”
"Is Saturday,” Wanda interrupted.
“K. Monday, then, I challenge you to a duel. I’ll make the swords; you bring the books. Winner keeps them both,” John contended.
Wanda narrowed her eyes, as if suspicious. “Shake on it.”
John spit into his hand and held it out. Wanda did the same, ignoring her instinct to grab a bottle of hand sanitizer.
Glaring at each other over their clasped hands, John wondered how many weights he would have to lift in three days to prepare, and Wanda wondered if the library had any books on dueling.
For this one, I combined two Writing Camp prompts! Thanks for reading!
Comentarios