Fiction
Speculative
"But how will I know who is supposed to get which one?”
“Seriously, Teacher, we’ve already gone over this,” the Secretary sighed, fighting to hold back his exasperation in the most obvious manner he could manage. “When the kids come in they will tell you their numbers and you just give them the mask with their number on the tag, see?” He held up one of the many plastic masks from the open box by his feet. “It’s not your job to decide who gets which one.”
“But what if we give them the wrong ones?” the Teacher asked, wringing her hands. The Secretary rolled his eyes behind the eyeholes of his own mask.
“That’s not the point here. And besides, we can’t get it wrong. The designations were all made by the Watchers and they’re never wrong. It’s their job to assign masks, after all.”
The Teacher shifted her weight from side to side in an unconscious expression of nervousness as she looked out over her new class. Her eyes flickered over the myriad of faces arrayed before her. There were five Jokers, seven Quiets, two Lazy Ones, four Gossips, one Genius, and three Bullies. The Bullies worried her. She had heard from other Teachers that having more than one Bully was always a sign of a bad year, and this was her first. Drawing in a deep breath to calm herself down, she opened her mouth to address the class, but she cut herself off as she caught sight of one of the Quiets.
“You—” She fumbled for a moment, uncertain of how to address the girl, but memories of her own school days flooded back into her mind and the words flew from her mouth. “The female Quiet in the corner, what are you doing?”
The Quiet stopped fingering the edge of her mask, turning her mild, plastic face to the front of the room. “This thing is too uncomfortable! I was gonna take it off.”
“You can’t,” the Teacher said hurriedly. “From now on you aren’t ever supposed to take off your mask.”
“But why not?” the Quiet demanded, folding her arms on top of her desk as the rest of the class watched on with interest. Curious murmurs rose from the others as well and the Teacher felt a sudden rush of panic. Confused, she gave herself a hard shake. She was a Teacher and they were her students. They were supposed to ask her questions, right?
But she is a Quiet, her mind reminded her as her unease mounted. She’s not supposed to be the one asking questions.
“It’s the rules,” she replied finally.
“But why?” the Quiet demanded again, her voice rising in volume.
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Copyright 2008, Alaena HaiLing. All rights reserved.
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