This unfortunate story happens to be a true one, and it happened during science period. To protect the innocent (and the guilty), some names have been changed.

Our science teacher was a happy lady named Mrs. Rieder. She was happy most of the time, doing fun things with us, and sometimes she was funny. But then sometimes, she was just plain mad.

She had a happy voice that made here sound like she was holding her nose every time she said “Hi”. In fact, every dad when I stepped into her classroom, I would always say “Hi” to her, and wait for her to say “Hi” in her funny little stuffy-nose voice (of course, some times she said “Hello”, to my great disappointment).

The other day, just as she was explaining to us for the fiftieth time that tardys (being late to class) were now being counted, Erik bumbled in through the door, clutching a huge binder that must have weighed more than my entire backpack.

“Sorry, Mizz Rieder,” he stumbled and landed with a huge crash in his seat. He dropped his binder next to his chair with a huge loud bang.

The type of binder he had was the type of binder that could be zipped together to hold things inside, and sometimes could function as a backpack. It was the only type of bag that the school permitted, because it was actually a binder.

Needless to say, the binder was bulging, and I feared the zippers would not hold. Mrs. Rieder eyed Erik with a look of disgust.

“Did you know tardys start being counted today?” he asked Erik.

“No, sorry, I didn’t know; please don’t get mad at me.”

“Yes, I understand that, but I will count you tardy next time you arrive unprepared. Do you understand? Now, take out your homework, please.” The last sentence Mrs. Rieder directed to all of us, and we all wordlessly took out our homework.

Now possibly the most interesting thing about this was that Erik started unzipping that binder of his. The two halves of the poor binder started bulging as he unzipped. When he was halfway through unzipping, it happened to make one side swell much more than the other.

We all eyed Erik through the corner of his eye as he finished unzipping, the binder now thicker by four inches, and it wasn’t even open yet.

He opened it.

There was a language book, some random papers, a drawing on the back of a paper book cover entitled “Stick Man and their Doom” (and a dungeon with stick people walking into magma), a math book, some math homework, and I couldn’t see the rest.

The teacher looked aghast. “Erik, I’m really going to have to get mad at you now. Please do not bring that unnecessary bulk to class, do you understand? I only hope for your own good that you have your homework.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Reider,” Erik grinned. “I do.”

It turned out, it couldn’t be further from the truth.

He flipped back and forth through his binder, opened a pocket, looking through pages, his face looking more and more worried the whole time. Mrs. Reider was watching, and she walked over, picked up a drawing of yet another dungeon with stick people, threw it away, and then addressed Erik.

“Where is your homework?” she asked, eyes wide. She had her arms crossed, and it looked like she might be mad. We all watched while pretending to be looking over our homework.

“Um… er… I-I think I left it in my locker,” he said, “Yeah, that’s what I did. I just remembered. It’s probably between the pages of my science book, because it’s not in this pocket. It’s where I put all my homework, so there’s only one other place it can be.”

“Isn’t your science book inside that mess?”

“Um, no. I left it in the locker—”

“Yet you saw fit to bring all these other books?” Mrs. Reider cut in angrily, picking up the language book. Erik eyed over his math book and language book dolefully.

“Now go and get it, and you better be lucky you’re not getting a conduct mark,” she explained, wagging a finger. Mrs. Reider wrote a pass, and Erik walked out the door.

Around three minutes later, Erik stumbled in again, tripping on a chair leg, clutching only his science book. He glanced at Mrs. Reider, who was once again eyeing him, and sit down.

“What happened to your binder?”

“Me? No, I thought you said to let me, you know, put it back, er, in my locker?”

“I never said that. I said next time you don’t bring so much stuff. But never mind that, let’s see your homework.”

Erik grinned. “I spent all night working on it, you know,” he said while he flipped through the pages.

Then he flipped through them again. And again. His face became agitated. He frowned. “Where is my homework?”

Mrs. Reider looked at him.

Suddenly he slapped his face. “Mrs. Reider, I think it…”

“Don’t tell me it’s still in your locker.”

“No, maim, I won’t tell you that.”

“Okay, then what is it?”

“I think it really WAS in my binder.”