#13

Earlier today Carl lost the game of “wrong answer.” The mechanics of the game is that you have to give a wrong answer to one of Miss Grothoff’s questions. It’s a pretty easy game to play, but it’s not very fun for the teacher.

But like I said, Carl lost. Kevin, who’s really big on psychology, kept whispering “concord . . . concord . . .” into Carl’s ear.

Carl on the other hand was focused on his etching out his initials on his chair – and when Miss Grothoff called on him to answer the question “where did the American minutemen retreat to after the battle of Lexington,” Carl lost control of his tongue and said the first thing that came to mind: Concord.

We agreed the day before that whoever lost today’s game would have to jump into the swimming pool during lunch. Carl was really hesitant at first, but after our coaxing him with words like “chicken” or “wuss.”

At 12:30PM he jumped off the low dive. We came out of the water drenched – and shivering. The temperature had dropped that week to the low teens. He quickly ran to the shower room to change out of his PE uniform and put on his regular attire.

I don't know what came over me – but while Carl was warming himself with a hot shower, I stole his clothes. Everyone had already left for the mess hall – they didn’t want to miss lunch. So there was Carl, alone in the locker room – emptied of clothes and towels – nude and freezing.

He didn’t know what to do. So didn’t dare go out – he wouldn’t dare leave the room in this weather. How long he stayed in there, no one really knows. But when he didn’t show up in class earlier, Kevin was sent to locker room to fetch him. He was ticked. That’s actually an understatement. The guy looked like he was one of the apocalyptic horseman.

And somehow he found out I stole his clothes; which does not bode well for me.