|
Mario Rodriguez is a writer, poet and comedian from Baldwin Park, California currently living in Boyle Heights, California. He honed his writing skills in dimly lit bars and empty parking lots. Mario survives off black coffee and 3x3's, spending his days writing nonsense for no one to see. He's currently writing a book and putting together a collection of short stories and poetry. If you see him, buy the guy a beer. Lord knows he needs it.
|
A New Era: Part II
The next morning they were taken back to the classroom, all single file. No cries this time. They got to the door and one of the fat men in an all black suit and black sunglasses handed each boy three slices of bread and a cup of cloudy water. Again, the boys devoured every bit before they reached their desk. Each took a seat wherever they chose. The classroom was spotless, almost shining the same bright grayness of the bunkroom. The two men in blacks suits and black sunglasses took their spots in the back of the classroom.
Jeremy felt cold. He‘s felt cold ever since he left his house. Sometimes he’d wonder about his parents. Where they might be. What they might doing. He wondered if, eventually, they would come get him from this place. But those thoughts came mostly at night when hunger set in and only his memory could nourish him.
But not at that moment. At that moment Jeremy was trying to get loose the bits of bread that got stuck between his teeth, just needing a bit more. He looked into his plastic cup and it was empty. But this was enough to ease his stomach for now. His body could savor this bit of energy and maybe his muscles could relax. He looked up and watched the oversized flag slowly swaying back and forth. There was no wind in the room, yet the flag swayed back and forth, back and forth. Jeremy just watched, wide mouthed, not thinking of anything really, hypnotized.
Bam!
The door swings open and in jumps the white haired man of yesterday, parading in with that same stride, same pinstriped suit, that same big stretched smile that looked involuntary. The man waltzed around the room, humming something under his breath, and then stopping abruptly directly below the Flag.
“I cannot teach this class if you cannot comply with school policy.”
All the boys in the room straightened and puckered in their seats. The tension made the white haired man’s smile stretch even wider.
“Now,” the man’s hands were behind his back looking into the ground very seriously, “I will only explain this once. There are rules. And you young men need to learn these rules. If you cannot learn these rules, there will be consequences.”
The man’s stroll reached the back of the room, all the boys kept their heads looking forward. The men in the black suits and the black sunglasses did too.
“The reason that you all are here is because things are changing, and in response to that change, Our Great Leader believes every child should have a proper education. An education that cannot be reasonably provided by those failing public schools and, the even bigger detriment to your education, your parents.”
All the boys held their collective breathes. Their parents! Oh what a distant memory those people were.
“They couldn’t provide for you. They couldn’t protect you. They couldn’t prepare you for the world we live in today.” A long pause, the man still slithering between the isles, hands clasped behind his back. “But guess what? The State can do those things. Our Great Leader thinks of you all as his own children and He wants to make sure you all end up honorable young men in the future.”
Jeremy could feel the tension ease. Some of the other boys were looking around at each other then back at the man. Their faces looked… scared. Scared and desperate.
“So, that’s what I’m here to do. I’m here to make sure you boys are prepared for the world as it will be by the time you leave us here at the Institute for the Liberation of American Education.”
The room again grew silent.
“First, we’re going to have to get some rules in order.” The man walked over to the door, opened it, and signaled something to someone outside. Then, in came two fat men in black suits and black sunglasses but these men had yellow ties and tool belts. They drilled two hooks on the wall then hoisted a large framed picture of a man with skin that looked like a powdery tangerine, his hair looked to be sitting on top of his head, rather than being a part of it. He had this look on his face, this squinty look that deep down made Jeremy want to giggle. It looked embarrassed. Confused and lonely. Like a little kid told by his mother that he better not cry in the super market.
“This, great, great Man, has given this great Land a second chance. He is Our Great Leader,” the men in the black suits and black sunglasses in the back of the room where standing at attention in full salute of the picture, “He is all that is good and proper about the American way.” The man stood and stared for sometime at the painting now hung obtusely on the wall.
“So,” the man said snapping out of it, “Every morning, when you come in or go out of this classroom, you will bow to Our Great Leader, pound your chest twice with the fist of your right hand like so,” the man demonstrated, “then, say the words, ‘Hail, hail, Our Great Crusader, Hail’. Everyone repeat after me; Hail, Hail—“
All at once, “Haauul, Haauu—“
“Our Great—“
“Arrr Great—“
“Crusader—“
“Crsssidor—“
“Crusader!”
“Crassaydor.”
“Listen, Croo, croo—“
“Crooo—“ symphony of prepubescence.
“Say-door—“
“Saay-daar—“
“Croo-say-door—“
“Croo-saay-door!”
“There it is! Again!”
Loudly and all together, “Croo-say-door!”
“Again!”
Even louder, “Croo-say-door!”
“Yes! Yes! Now all together, ‘Hail, Hail Our Great Crusader Hail.’”
“Haail- hal- uuur grahte cuuurrrator haal...” sloppily responded the group.
“NO!” The man lost the demeanor of moments ago and regained that wild-eyed gaze of the day before. “LISTEN TO WHAT I AM SAYING! HAIL HAIL, OUR GREAT CRUSADER, HAIL! NOW YOU!”
Slow and shy, more together. “Heeey-all… heeey-all, Arr Great Crooo-saaay-der, Heeey –all.”
“LOUDER!” the man screamed. With one swift move of the hand, he slapped one of the boys in the front row.
“HEEY-ALL! HEEY ALL! ARR GRAA-T CROOO-SAAAY-DER! HEEY-ALL!”
“GOOD! GOOD!” The man screamed and jumped around one of the rows then without warning connected with a right hook to the jaw of one the boys in the front row. The boy fell and the room went silent. “AGAIN! AGAIN!” Then to the boy, “GET UP!” To everyone, “AGAIN!!”
“HEEY-ALL HEEY-ALL ARR GRAAA-T CROO-SAAAY-DER HEEY-ALL! HEEY-ALL HEEY-ALL ARR GRAAA-T CROO-SAAY-DER HEEY-ALL!”
“AGAIN!”
“HEY-ALL HEY-ALL ARR GRAA-T CROO-SAAY-DER!”
“AGAIN!” Now a right cross to the back of the head of one of the boys by the door, then a kick across the face that caught Jeremy by surprise as he went to say the second, ‘HEY-ALL’.
This went on for sometime until almost every boy got his taste of knuckle or brown leather. One boy kept his eyes shut and just screamed out the words involuntarily and took a two-piece to his temple by the man demanding he “wake up”.
It ended when the man was tired. He sat on the metal desk in the front of the room and took deep breaths as he waited. Jeremy let the blood drip from his lip onto his chest. Somewhere behind him there was a boy trying to keep his cries down.
“Okay,” the man said getting to his feet, “that’s that… hopefully.” Gold teeth showing, “anyways, next rule is this Goddamned seating arrangement. You motherfuckers cant just sit where you want.” All the boys looked around. “Yeah, that’s right. Look at each other. I tell you where you will sit. I tell you when to stand. I tell you when to leave and I tell you when to come. Is that understood?”
The room nods.
“Good. So, to fix this, we have a chart since I know most of you ain't the brightest bunch in this great Land.”
The man pulled down a chart that was rolled up on the wall over the board behind the metal desk. It had a handful of rows; those rows had various shades of brown, all the way from beige, which was on the top row, down to a heavy brown, close to black, down in the bottom row. There was an arrow that started at the first row and pointed down towards the last row.
“This chart here very clearly illustrates our expectation for how individuals will be seated during class time. How does it work? Good question! Easy. Look down at your arm and match the color of your arm to the colors on the chart. This row,” the man pointing to the row of different shades of beige, almost peachy. Reminded Jeremy of “Awesome Apricot”, “this row is the front row, if your arms closer to this color, you should be seated up front. If you’re arm is closer to this row,” now pointing at the darker end, the different shades of black row, “then you will be seated closer to the rear of the classroom.”
All the boys looked down at their arms then back up at the chart, then around at each other and each other’s arms.
“This shouldn’t be too hard. Now, get up and figure it the fuck out.”
They began to get up slowly…
“NOW!”
The boys hustled around, comparing arms. The lighter and the darker boys had it easy, they made their way to their respective ends but in the middle there were boys just shades so similar that arguments started breaking out.
“I’m not as dark as you!”
“Yes you is!”
“No I’m not!”
“Yes you is!”
“You’re both darker than me! I should have that seat!”
“No, shut up!”
“You’re super dark! Get to the back!”
“ENOUGH!” The man screamed out, there were five boys standing around arguing with each other, everyone else figured it out and found a seat for their color. “All five of you,” the man shouted, “Do you remember yesterday?”
They all nod, all the aggression drained from them.
“So, then you know how we settle disruptions in this classroom.”
Everyone was silent.
“I would recommend you find your seats and if you can’t agree, well, I could use some entertainment so please… wait, now come to think of it, continue arguing.”
The boys quickly found their place and the man smiled that paternal smile that frightens the boys more than anything else.
“Good, now that we’re structured, does anyone have any question for me?”
No movement.
“Come on, guys,” the man said, trying his friendly face, “you could ask me questions. This isn’t prison.” He laughed a big one and surveyed the room. Still nothing.
“No one has any questions for me?”
Silence.
“Nothing?”
Then a frail little wrist rose and the hand on the end of it trembled in the air.
“Yes!” The man jumped up, eyes big again. “What’s your question little guy?”
“Ahh—“
“Wait! State your name first.”
“Uh… ma-my name is Benjamin Cortes,” Benjamin pronounced ‘ben-ha-mean’, “I-I just… want to know… where my parents are…” tears welling up in little Ben’s eyes.
The room fell to this intense, suspenseful silence.
“Hhhh…’ the man let out a sigh, slowly shaking his head. Then he looked up and pointed to the boy. In the next moment, one of the fat men in a black suit and black sunglasses took out his club and slammed it across the boy’s temple. Ben-ha-mean slumped in his seat out cold.
“Next question?”
Nothing. Jeremy could feel the fear building in his stomach and in his throat. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes too but he tried to keep them back.
“I need another question.” The man said very sternly, jaw clenched. “Not about parents though, ha-ha-ha…” the man laughed and adjusted himself.
Another thin arm rose into the air.
“Name?”
“Bradley Davis.”
“Okay, Bradley, what’s your question?”
“Can... we… maybe… have… more bread?”
“Ha-ha, oh Bradley. Is that what I’ve taught you? To be a beggar? I don’t think I taught you to be a beggar.” The man looked up from Bradley towards the back of the room and when Bradley turned to try and see it coming, he got a club right in the teeth. He fell over on the floor holding his mouth and sobbing, blood streaming out in strong bursts. There were a couple teeth that spread out on the floor, one landed just to the side of Jeremy’s foot.
“GET UP AND STOP YOUR FUCKIN CRYING BEFORE I GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY OVER!”
Bradley got to his feet and sat back in his seat, blood continuing to spill out onto the desk and off the side to the floor. He managed to soften his sobs out of sheer will and fear.
“Okay!” The man smiling again, “One more. Just give me one more. And make it a good one!”
A hand came up in the middle of the room, a little brown hand on a kid that already had some thick peach fuzz growing from his adolescent face.
“It better be good!”
“Whaa-what would make Our Great Leader most proud of us?”
The smile slipped from the man's face and coldness took over the room. The man slowly walked over to the kid’s desk.
“Wow. Just… wow.” The man looked up to the back of the room to the men in the black suits and the black sunglasses. “Hear that boys?” they both nodded in unison. “This one might be alright.” Now to the rest of the class, “hear that? That’s a question! That’s the way we advance this great society of ours! This is how you should aspire to be!” The man crouched down to make his head eye level to the boy.
“What’s your name son?”
“Abdul Rahman.”
Suddenly, it seemed like all the color, the very little that the man had, seemed to vanish. The veins in the side of his neck started to twitch and pop. The corner of his mouth, the right corner, started to flutter. Slowly, those eyes began to grow larger and larger and all his knuckles cracked as he made fists with both hands.
“What the fuck!” the man says to one of the fat men with black suits and black sunglasses, the one on the right.
“We-we checked sir! We thought we got them all!”
“You thought?” the man said, head tilted to the side, slithering patiently towards the back of the room.
“He- he-looks… Mexican. Look at him! We swore we got them all!”
“NO FUCKING MEXICAN IS NAMED ABDUL!”
“I’m sorry s-sir! This is totally on me!”
“No fuckin' shit!”
The man walked back to the front of the class, right hand running nervously through his silver shinny hair.
“Get the boy.”
The two fat men in black suits and black sunglasses grabbed Abdul by the arms and carried him out of the room. The man left with them and locked the door behind him from the outside. The boys could here the sounds of their feet clanking down the hall then the sound of a door opening and closing, then silence. No one in the class dared to move or even talk.
Then, off in the distance, there was a loud bang that made Jeremy flinch in his seat. Silence, then two more, Bang…. Bang….
The white haired man returned, behind him two short fat men with all black suit and black sunglasses, these with different faces than the ones that left.
The man moved his hair from over his forehead and put it back in place. When he turned back to face the class the smile was right where it was before.
“Well, hopefully that’s all of them.” The man yawned and stretched his hands far above his head. “I’m beat. I guess for the rest of the time we’ll watch a sexuality training video.” He motioned to one of the fat men in a black suit and black sunglasses and he wheeled in a projector, turned it on and faced it to one of the empty walls in the classroom. Then, an image of naked woman came up on the wall. She had these fat dark nipples that stood out on her olive brown skin and a big messy bush. She moved back and forth sensually for a bit, touching her breasts, then running her hands down her hips and spanking her ass. She was oiled up and shiny, slippery-looking even. All the boys sank back into their seats. They felt something down low that made their stomach hurt, faces turning red with heat and embarrassment. Then there was this man with a huge white cock. It wasn’t hard but it was huge and had this thick vein running down the side of it. Then woman got down on her knees and the man grabbed his thing and started relieving himself all over her face, this dark yellow liquid coming out strong and slashing off her cheeks and getting into her eyes. She tried to catch it in her mouth and it would fill up and pour down her chest. Then the man finished and she rubbed the piss all over herself, turned and was met by another white cock, this one not so big but ready, squirting her with a powerful stream. The woman put her head down and let the warm yellow liquid soak into her thick curly hair and drip down her back. This repeated over and over. Man after man, stream after stream.
After five hours of “sexuality training videos”, the class was dismissed, all bowing and pounding their chest on the way out, all repeating the words the man made them remember, and all having the same intense sensation to take a piss.
To be continued.......
Jeremy felt cold. He‘s felt cold ever since he left his house. Sometimes he’d wonder about his parents. Where they might be. What they might doing. He wondered if, eventually, they would come get him from this place. But those thoughts came mostly at night when hunger set in and only his memory could nourish him.
But not at that moment. At that moment Jeremy was trying to get loose the bits of bread that got stuck between his teeth, just needing a bit more. He looked into his plastic cup and it was empty. But this was enough to ease his stomach for now. His body could savor this bit of energy and maybe his muscles could relax. He looked up and watched the oversized flag slowly swaying back and forth. There was no wind in the room, yet the flag swayed back and forth, back and forth. Jeremy just watched, wide mouthed, not thinking of anything really, hypnotized.
Bam!
The door swings open and in jumps the white haired man of yesterday, parading in with that same stride, same pinstriped suit, that same big stretched smile that looked involuntary. The man waltzed around the room, humming something under his breath, and then stopping abruptly directly below the Flag.
“I cannot teach this class if you cannot comply with school policy.”
All the boys in the room straightened and puckered in their seats. The tension made the white haired man’s smile stretch even wider.
“Now,” the man’s hands were behind his back looking into the ground very seriously, “I will only explain this once. There are rules. And you young men need to learn these rules. If you cannot learn these rules, there will be consequences.”
The man’s stroll reached the back of the room, all the boys kept their heads looking forward. The men in the black suits and the black sunglasses did too.
“The reason that you all are here is because things are changing, and in response to that change, Our Great Leader believes every child should have a proper education. An education that cannot be reasonably provided by those failing public schools and, the even bigger detriment to your education, your parents.”
All the boys held their collective breathes. Their parents! Oh what a distant memory those people were.
“They couldn’t provide for you. They couldn’t protect you. They couldn’t prepare you for the world we live in today.” A long pause, the man still slithering between the isles, hands clasped behind his back. “But guess what? The State can do those things. Our Great Leader thinks of you all as his own children and He wants to make sure you all end up honorable young men in the future.”
Jeremy could feel the tension ease. Some of the other boys were looking around at each other then back at the man. Their faces looked… scared. Scared and desperate.
“So, that’s what I’m here to do. I’m here to make sure you boys are prepared for the world as it will be by the time you leave us here at the Institute for the Liberation of American Education.”
The room again grew silent.
“First, we’re going to have to get some rules in order.” The man walked over to the door, opened it, and signaled something to someone outside. Then, in came two fat men in black suits and black sunglasses but these men had yellow ties and tool belts. They drilled two hooks on the wall then hoisted a large framed picture of a man with skin that looked like a powdery tangerine, his hair looked to be sitting on top of his head, rather than being a part of it. He had this look on his face, this squinty look that deep down made Jeremy want to giggle. It looked embarrassed. Confused and lonely. Like a little kid told by his mother that he better not cry in the super market.
“This, great, great Man, has given this great Land a second chance. He is Our Great Leader,” the men in the black suits and black sunglasses in the back of the room where standing at attention in full salute of the picture, “He is all that is good and proper about the American way.” The man stood and stared for sometime at the painting now hung obtusely on the wall.
“So,” the man said snapping out of it, “Every morning, when you come in or go out of this classroom, you will bow to Our Great Leader, pound your chest twice with the fist of your right hand like so,” the man demonstrated, “then, say the words, ‘Hail, hail, Our Great Crusader, Hail’. Everyone repeat after me; Hail, Hail—“
All at once, “Haauul, Haauu—“
“Our Great—“
“Arrr Great—“
“Crusader—“
“Crsssidor—“
“Crusader!”
“Crassaydor.”
“Listen, Croo, croo—“
“Crooo—“ symphony of prepubescence.
“Say-door—“
“Saay-daar—“
“Croo-say-door—“
“Croo-saay-door!”
“There it is! Again!”
Loudly and all together, “Croo-say-door!”
“Again!”
Even louder, “Croo-say-door!”
“Yes! Yes! Now all together, ‘Hail, Hail Our Great Crusader Hail.’”
“Haail- hal- uuur grahte cuuurrrator haal...” sloppily responded the group.
“NO!” The man lost the demeanor of moments ago and regained that wild-eyed gaze of the day before. “LISTEN TO WHAT I AM SAYING! HAIL HAIL, OUR GREAT CRUSADER, HAIL! NOW YOU!”
Slow and shy, more together. “Heeey-all… heeey-all, Arr Great Crooo-saaay-der, Heeey –all.”
“LOUDER!” the man screamed. With one swift move of the hand, he slapped one of the boys in the front row.
“HEEY-ALL! HEEY ALL! ARR GRAA-T CROOO-SAAAY-DER! HEEY-ALL!”
“GOOD! GOOD!” The man screamed and jumped around one of the rows then without warning connected with a right hook to the jaw of one the boys in the front row. The boy fell and the room went silent. “AGAIN! AGAIN!” Then to the boy, “GET UP!” To everyone, “AGAIN!!”
“HEEY-ALL HEEY-ALL ARR GRAAA-T CROO-SAAAY-DER HEEY-ALL! HEEY-ALL HEEY-ALL ARR GRAAA-T CROO-SAAY-DER HEEY-ALL!”
“AGAIN!”
“HEY-ALL HEY-ALL ARR GRAA-T CROO-SAAY-DER!”
“AGAIN!” Now a right cross to the back of the head of one of the boys by the door, then a kick across the face that caught Jeremy by surprise as he went to say the second, ‘HEY-ALL’.
This went on for sometime until almost every boy got his taste of knuckle or brown leather. One boy kept his eyes shut and just screamed out the words involuntarily and took a two-piece to his temple by the man demanding he “wake up”.
It ended when the man was tired. He sat on the metal desk in the front of the room and took deep breaths as he waited. Jeremy let the blood drip from his lip onto his chest. Somewhere behind him there was a boy trying to keep his cries down.
“Okay,” the man said getting to his feet, “that’s that… hopefully.” Gold teeth showing, “anyways, next rule is this Goddamned seating arrangement. You motherfuckers cant just sit where you want.” All the boys looked around. “Yeah, that’s right. Look at each other. I tell you where you will sit. I tell you when to stand. I tell you when to leave and I tell you when to come. Is that understood?”
The room nods.
“Good. So, to fix this, we have a chart since I know most of you ain't the brightest bunch in this great Land.”
The man pulled down a chart that was rolled up on the wall over the board behind the metal desk. It had a handful of rows; those rows had various shades of brown, all the way from beige, which was on the top row, down to a heavy brown, close to black, down in the bottom row. There was an arrow that started at the first row and pointed down towards the last row.
“This chart here very clearly illustrates our expectation for how individuals will be seated during class time. How does it work? Good question! Easy. Look down at your arm and match the color of your arm to the colors on the chart. This row,” the man pointing to the row of different shades of beige, almost peachy. Reminded Jeremy of “Awesome Apricot”, “this row is the front row, if your arms closer to this color, you should be seated up front. If you’re arm is closer to this row,” now pointing at the darker end, the different shades of black row, “then you will be seated closer to the rear of the classroom.”
All the boys looked down at their arms then back up at the chart, then around at each other and each other’s arms.
“This shouldn’t be too hard. Now, get up and figure it the fuck out.”
They began to get up slowly…
“NOW!”
The boys hustled around, comparing arms. The lighter and the darker boys had it easy, they made their way to their respective ends but in the middle there were boys just shades so similar that arguments started breaking out.
“I’m not as dark as you!”
“Yes you is!”
“No I’m not!”
“Yes you is!”
“You’re both darker than me! I should have that seat!”
“No, shut up!”
“You’re super dark! Get to the back!”
“ENOUGH!” The man screamed out, there were five boys standing around arguing with each other, everyone else figured it out and found a seat for their color. “All five of you,” the man shouted, “Do you remember yesterday?”
They all nod, all the aggression drained from them.
“So, then you know how we settle disruptions in this classroom.”
Everyone was silent.
“I would recommend you find your seats and if you can’t agree, well, I could use some entertainment so please… wait, now come to think of it, continue arguing.”
The boys quickly found their place and the man smiled that paternal smile that frightens the boys more than anything else.
“Good, now that we’re structured, does anyone have any question for me?”
No movement.
“Come on, guys,” the man said, trying his friendly face, “you could ask me questions. This isn’t prison.” He laughed a big one and surveyed the room. Still nothing.
“No one has any questions for me?”
Silence.
“Nothing?”
Then a frail little wrist rose and the hand on the end of it trembled in the air.
“Yes!” The man jumped up, eyes big again. “What’s your question little guy?”
“Ahh—“
“Wait! State your name first.”
“Uh… ma-my name is Benjamin Cortes,” Benjamin pronounced ‘ben-ha-mean’, “I-I just… want to know… where my parents are…” tears welling up in little Ben’s eyes.
The room fell to this intense, suspenseful silence.
“Hhhh…’ the man let out a sigh, slowly shaking his head. Then he looked up and pointed to the boy. In the next moment, one of the fat men in a black suit and black sunglasses took out his club and slammed it across the boy’s temple. Ben-ha-mean slumped in his seat out cold.
“Next question?”
Nothing. Jeremy could feel the fear building in his stomach and in his throat. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes too but he tried to keep them back.
“I need another question.” The man said very sternly, jaw clenched. “Not about parents though, ha-ha-ha…” the man laughed and adjusted himself.
Another thin arm rose into the air.
“Name?”
“Bradley Davis.”
“Okay, Bradley, what’s your question?”
“Can... we… maybe… have… more bread?”
“Ha-ha, oh Bradley. Is that what I’ve taught you? To be a beggar? I don’t think I taught you to be a beggar.” The man looked up from Bradley towards the back of the room and when Bradley turned to try and see it coming, he got a club right in the teeth. He fell over on the floor holding his mouth and sobbing, blood streaming out in strong bursts. There were a couple teeth that spread out on the floor, one landed just to the side of Jeremy’s foot.
“GET UP AND STOP YOUR FUCKIN CRYING BEFORE I GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY OVER!”
Bradley got to his feet and sat back in his seat, blood continuing to spill out onto the desk and off the side to the floor. He managed to soften his sobs out of sheer will and fear.
“Okay!” The man smiling again, “One more. Just give me one more. And make it a good one!”
A hand came up in the middle of the room, a little brown hand on a kid that already had some thick peach fuzz growing from his adolescent face.
“It better be good!”
“Whaa-what would make Our Great Leader most proud of us?”
The smile slipped from the man's face and coldness took over the room. The man slowly walked over to the kid’s desk.
“Wow. Just… wow.” The man looked up to the back of the room to the men in the black suits and the black sunglasses. “Hear that boys?” they both nodded in unison. “This one might be alright.” Now to the rest of the class, “hear that? That’s a question! That’s the way we advance this great society of ours! This is how you should aspire to be!” The man crouched down to make his head eye level to the boy.
“What’s your name son?”
“Abdul Rahman.”
Suddenly, it seemed like all the color, the very little that the man had, seemed to vanish. The veins in the side of his neck started to twitch and pop. The corner of his mouth, the right corner, started to flutter. Slowly, those eyes began to grow larger and larger and all his knuckles cracked as he made fists with both hands.
“What the fuck!” the man says to one of the fat men with black suits and black sunglasses, the one on the right.
“We-we checked sir! We thought we got them all!”
“You thought?” the man said, head tilted to the side, slithering patiently towards the back of the room.
“He- he-looks… Mexican. Look at him! We swore we got them all!”
“NO FUCKING MEXICAN IS NAMED ABDUL!”
“I’m sorry s-sir! This is totally on me!”
“No fuckin' shit!”
The man walked back to the front of the class, right hand running nervously through his silver shinny hair.
“Get the boy.”
The two fat men in black suits and black sunglasses grabbed Abdul by the arms and carried him out of the room. The man left with them and locked the door behind him from the outside. The boys could here the sounds of their feet clanking down the hall then the sound of a door opening and closing, then silence. No one in the class dared to move or even talk.
Then, off in the distance, there was a loud bang that made Jeremy flinch in his seat. Silence, then two more, Bang…. Bang….
The white haired man returned, behind him two short fat men with all black suit and black sunglasses, these with different faces than the ones that left.
The man moved his hair from over his forehead and put it back in place. When he turned back to face the class the smile was right where it was before.
“Well, hopefully that’s all of them.” The man yawned and stretched his hands far above his head. “I’m beat. I guess for the rest of the time we’ll watch a sexuality training video.” He motioned to one of the fat men in a black suit and black sunglasses and he wheeled in a projector, turned it on and faced it to one of the empty walls in the classroom. Then, an image of naked woman came up on the wall. She had these fat dark nipples that stood out on her olive brown skin and a big messy bush. She moved back and forth sensually for a bit, touching her breasts, then running her hands down her hips and spanking her ass. She was oiled up and shiny, slippery-looking even. All the boys sank back into their seats. They felt something down low that made their stomach hurt, faces turning red with heat and embarrassment. Then there was this man with a huge white cock. It wasn’t hard but it was huge and had this thick vein running down the side of it. Then woman got down on her knees and the man grabbed his thing and started relieving himself all over her face, this dark yellow liquid coming out strong and slashing off her cheeks and getting into her eyes. She tried to catch it in her mouth and it would fill up and pour down her chest. Then the man finished and she rubbed the piss all over herself, turned and was met by another white cock, this one not so big but ready, squirting her with a powerful stream. The woman put her head down and let the warm yellow liquid soak into her thick curly hair and drip down her back. This repeated over and over. Man after man, stream after stream.
After five hours of “sexuality training videos”, the class was dismissed, all bowing and pounding their chest on the way out, all repeating the words the man made them remember, and all having the same intense sensation to take a piss.
To be continued.......