The Study of Nature

[Megami†]

It was truly a beautiful morning on the campus of Franklyn Senior High.  The weather was absolutely perfect for an April morning, a lovely 72 degrees Fahrenheit -- not too hot, not too cold, just right.  The thunderstorm that had rolled through the previous night had washed the dirt and grime away and seemed to have created everything anew, though the odd rain puddle was left here and there in the campus courtyard.  Now, there wasn't a cloud in the sky and the warm sunlight beat down gently on the scenery below.  The breeze blew just slightly, passing the fragrant scent of blooming flowers from the wonderful spring weather across campus.

And where was Ricky Callahan during this glorious moment of nature?

The answer was quite simple.  Ricky was currently skidding his blue truck into a not-so-coordinated parking maneuver.  The hispanic boy looked down at his clock nervously.  The time was 8:45 and he was officially fifteen minutes late for his first period class.  Grabbing the keys from the ignition and retrieving his bookbag in one fell swoop, Ricky all but dived out of the driver's seat of his truck and leapt the short guardrail separating a section of the student parking from the main road.  Not bothering to check the street as he raced across, he luckily made it just in time not to be crushed against the hood of the driver's ed car by the renegade fifteen-and-a-half year old behind the wheel.

Throwing open the door to the first level of the school and dashing through the completely deserted hallways, Ricky couldn't help but reflect to himself that this ridiculous scenario could have been so easily avoided.  It had been a simple mistake on his part, he'd forgotten to set his alarm clock the night before.  It wasn't the first time he'd neglected to do it, and usually, either his mother or his brother would wake him up before the inevitability of being late for school occurred.  What Ricky never considered, though, was that Matt would wake up sick this morning and that his mother would rush him to the doctor's office, simply assuming Ricky would get up on his own.

Selena Callahan -- the overbearing but loveable woman he called mother back home -- had lectured him many, many times on how his junior year in high school was almost over.  Next year, he'd be a senior.  He'd have to start filling out scholarship applications and all, and then the next year, he'd be off to college and living on his own.  Not only did Selena not really have faith that the eldest Callahan sibling could hold his own at college, but Ricky knew full well that he had no chance of surviving his first semester with his current habits and lifestyle.  In fact, if he couldn't even set his own alarm clock out of sheer laziness, disaster was inevitable in college.

Ricky wheezed lightly as he rounded the second set of stairs in the building.  Unfortunately for him, Mr. Duana's homeroom just happened to be on the third level of the building.  Generally, traversing the flight of stairs wouldn't have been much on an athlete like Ricky Callahan, but the truth was that Ricky simply couldn't hold his own in running, not to mention running in a full-on sprint from his truck, through the school building, and up two flights of stairs.  Once again springing into a dash as he reached the top of the stairwell, Ricky breathed a sigh of relief as Mr. Duana's homeroom, Classroom 11C, came into sight.  Skidding to a halt in front of it, Ricky doubled over momentarily to catch his breath before reaching up and tentatively knocking on the door.

The sound of Mr. Duana's booming voice which had been echoing only moments prior from the other side of the doorway immediately stopped and was followed but a sudden foreboding silence.  Mr. Duana was a man who hated a lot of things -- among them was having his classes disturbed.  The dead silence was followed by a bit of a grunt before the scratchy voice on the other side called out, "Come in."

The gruff voice on the other side of the door was a bit intimidating, and Ricky found himself sinking down in the blue Franklyn Senior baseball hoodie he adorned as he tentatively turned the door handle.  Mr. Duana stood on the other side, an impatient glare plastered on his features.  Mr. Duana was an intimidating man all around -- overly tall in stature, he towered over the students at a whopping 6'5".  His body was bulky and built and was visible even through his suit and tie ensemble.  His hair was a dark black in color and the mustache/goatee combo that encircled the bottom half of his face was trimmed neatly.  Mr. Duana was a no-nonsense kind of guy, and it definitely showed right now, as his thick black eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"Callahan," he stated flatly, a frown overtaking his features, "You're late."

"Yes sir," Ricky replied nervously, "I'm sorry, I over--"

Duana cut him off before Ricky could answer, the annoyed look on his face becoming more and more apparent with each passing moment, "Let me guess, you overslept?  You interrupt my class to tell me that, or did you plan on joining the rest of the people who got here on time for the day's lesson?  Where's your tardy slip, Callahan?"

"Uh..." Ricky stumbled, sinking back in his hoodie a bit more at Mr. Duana's always-apparent aggressive demeanor, "I, uh, I didn't--"

"Go get me a tardy slip," Duana commanded irritatedly, "Don't come back in here till you've got one."

"Yes sir," Ricky muttered apologetically, "Sorry sir."

Ricky never had been the sort of individual to stand up for himself, and this fact rang even more true when it came to figures of authority.  He couldn't lie to save his life, and even if he attempted it, his conscience usually sent him on a guilt trip down the line, just as it had the day he had lied to that police officer for Eric Silvstedt.  Ricky backtracked out of the classroom, like the proverbial dog with his tail between his legs, and hurried back down to the first floor of the school where the principal's office was located in search of a tardy slip.

Eric Silvstedt, meanwhile, was resisting the urge to burst into a fit of laughter at the scenario that had just unfolded in the front of the classroom.  Even Eric knew better than to cause a scene in Duana's class, though.  Of all the teachers at Franklyn Senior, Duana was probably the only man not easily walked all over.  He didn't put up with anybody's nonsense, regardless of name or status.  Truth be told, Eric didn't quite know why he and the majority of the baseball team had chosen Duana's science class as their homeroom.  They would've been so much better off taking Mr. Dolph -- he'd be far too busy staring at the cheerleaders' chests to reprimand them for any sort of horseplay.

He supposed that was what they got for listening to the advice of other students when they said Mr. Duana was "cool".  Mr. Duana was far from cool, at least in Eric's mind.  The man was like Hitler.  In fact, if he trimmed his goatee just right, Eric couldn't help but imagine that the resemblance between the two would probably be uncanny.  It was his way or the highway, and Duana enjoyed exerting his authority over others.  Eric always joked to the other baseball boys that it was because the man had a huge inferiority complex.  As the thought ran through his mind, a wide grin spread across his features.  Mr. Duana seemed to turn just in time to catch this, and his eyebrow raised slightly.

"Something you wanna fill us in on, Silvstedt?" he inquired flatly.

"No sir," Eric muttered.

"Good," Duana deadpanned, "Perhaps now that these meaningless little interruptions are over, I can continue with my lesson.  Turn to page one hundred and sixty seven, class."

As Duana turned his back on the class to scrawl something out across the old-fashioned chalkboard in his horrendous handwriting, Eric couldn't help but sigh in sheer annoyance.  When the school had updated every other board to markerboards, Duana had positively insisted upon keeping his chalkboard.  Eric couldn't help but think to himself that the aging man in front of the classroom was far too set in his old-fashioned ways.  To some people, Duana's no-nonsense attitude about teaching might've been a blessing.  To Eric, it was simply annoying.  Who cared about the elements in nature anyway?  What did cell structure have to do with anything?  Not like Eric was ever going to use it.  He quickly found his attention waning from the board and roaming across his classmates, curious to see if anybody else had preoccupied themselves with something better than the mindless dribble Duana was preaching.