Homework Blues.

As I shuffled into the classroom, I knew that Mr. Van Camp would never believe me. I looked at my scuffed shoes and mumbled, " My homework is not done, Sir. I do have a good excuse though."

Mr. Van Camp scowled as he looked up from the papers he was marking. "This is not the first time your homework has not been completed. Perhaps," he suggested, "it's time to speak with your parents."

"Please, you have no idea what will happen to me if you phone my home," I moaned.
"Well, let's hear your excuse. It better be good."

I hesitated, then blurted, "My father got hit by a fire truck." I soon began to regret my sudden outburst.

"Really, a fire truck? That's awful!" he cried out sympathetically, "I hope he gets well soon."

"Thanks for your condolesences, Sir," I replied.

"No problem, and don't worry about the assignment. I'll extend it to Friday."

Relieved, I began to trudge over to my desk. However, the problem wasn't so easily solved. I could hear the phone ringing behind me, and heard from Mr. Van Camps deep voice from behind me say, "Oh, this is Aaron's mother is it? I'm sorry to hear about what happened!"

Startled, I froze up for a second. I would have to act quickly to mend this situation.

"Mr. Van Camp," I interrupted, "Could you help me out quickly with this problem?"

"Just a second Aaron, I'm on the phone with your mother."

The situation was out of my hands now, and I began to break out into a cold sweat. Van Camp kept chattering away, but I could hear nothing but the soft hymning of my own demise. I kept staring into space, until I noticed his eyes had changed. They were cold with fury.

He rose from his chair, and walked right next to me, softly breathing into my ear, "You get a 0 on this weeks assignment, Mr Grewal." Then he walked past me, leaving me to sink to my knees in despair.