The Encounter

I was sitting eagerly at my desk in Writer’s Craft class listening to the teacher’s lesson concerning the writing of short stories. Our task was to go to the computer lab down the hall and create a short story to post on our blogs. I could not wait to begin writing my story since I had such a great idea. I decided I would write about my rabbit, Flapjacks, and how she is just so darn cute. However, on the way from the Writer’s Craft room to the computer lab, David Lindsay, a school chum of mine, bumped into me, knocking me into another school chum, Dan Cuberovic, who came crashing down on the hard tile floor. After composing myself and brushing the floor dirt of my pants, I noticed that Dan, the person into whom I had crashed, was bleeding out from his head profusely. I began screaming, and David, noticing my screaming, began screaming too.
“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Look what you did!”
“What do we do? Call 911? You’re the lifeguard – check him out”, David yelled to me.
Panicking, I bent down to analyze Dan’s state and much to my dismay (for lack of a better word) my analysis showed that he was…dead.
“Oh my gosh!” I screamed.
“What? What? Is he going to be okay?” asked David.
“I think he’s dead, man!”
“Dead? Like, dead dead?” David questioned.
“What other kind of de… David, what are we going to do? There is no point in calling an ambulance now…”
“Let’s get rid of him. You know, burn the evidence”, suggested David.
And that’s where it all went downhill. Five minutes earlier I had been on my way to the computer lab to write a short story and now I had been an accessory to unintentional murder. And, to top it all off, the killer and I were going to dispose of our dead school friend. I could not believe that this was happening to me.
“We better do this quickly before someone notices us”, said David.
“Where are we taking him?” I questioned.
“…the dump. We’ll put him in a black garbage bag and drive him over there. We’ll say he’s organic wastes”, said David.
Thankfully David had passed his G2 test the week before, which allowed us the ability to get to the dump without anyone else’s help. David and I made a stop at the janitor’s closet to grab an industrial sized garbage bag, and then we piled into his car, placing dead ‘ol Danny in the back seat.
“Drive fast, my friend. Drive fast”, I said to David.
David was apparently speeding on the way to the dump (who knew doing 160 km/h in a 50 km/h zone was highly illegal?), and as a result a parade of police cars began to pursue us.
“CRAP!” David screamed…a lot.
“Whadda we do? Oh no, Davey. Look what you’ve got us into now! You just keep messing things up for me don’t you? I was going to be a famous musician and now I’m going to spend the rest of my life in jail. Fix this!”
“All I can do is floor it and hope we lose them. We’re at the point of no return now”, David told me.
I was sure that the police were going to catch up to us! They were hollering at us with their megaphones and flashing their sirens, honking their horns and even shooting their guns. Who knew speeding would cause such a kafuffle?
So, David pressed the gas down to the floor of the car and we made a break for it with the police hot on our tails. I’ve never felt like a fugitive before in my life until this moment. It was like something straight out of Hollywood. Suddenly, there was a total solar eclipse and the sky went dark. I thought to myself that this was the perfect time for us to escape the pursuit of the police and then immediately after that I said,
“David, this is a ‘deus ex machina’, to which David then replied,
“Wouldn’t our English teachers be proud that you were thinking about literary terms while we were being SHOT AT DURING A HIGH SPEED CHASE, as a result of which we will probably be SENT TO JAIL AND CHARGED WITH MANSLAUGHTER?”
“Oooh, right. So, don’t just sit there, Davey. Lose them!”
David made a quick 3 point turn and began driving in the other direction. By the time that the unlikely development of the eclipse was over, we were a few kilometres away from the police and had fortunately escaped them. We eventually arrived at the dump and were able to claim Dan as organic waste. As we were throwing Dan into the correct bin, his head poked out of the bag. A passerby noticed this and looked at the bag with perplexity.
“He’s onto us”, whispered David to me.
“Oh, David. You and your mannequins. Always trying to throw them into the organic bins when they should be put in the plastic one”, I said to try and avoid any unnecessary interrogation.
We waited until the passerby passed all the way by and then accomplished throwing Dan into the bin.
“PHEW. Disaster averted,” said David.
“Yah, except what will people think when Dan is not at school for the next…ever?!”
“Hadn’t thought of that. His parents might be worried too, you know,” said David.
“And someone will figure out that we’re responsible for this”, I said.
“There’s only one thing we can do then…”, said David.
So, David and I piled back into his car and began to make our way to Mexico, where we would spend the rest of our lives as Esteban and Juanita.