Another entry in the diary of an 80’s neurodiverse schoolboy

Biology and no sign of Mrs Humes in the lab, the girls take the lead and we all go in. Everyone is taking their places like good little pupils. why are they wasting a rare opportunity to have some freedom in the lab?
The gas taps are just crying out to be messed with. There is something quite satisfying about turning on these little grey taps, the hiss, the smell of gas and the sense of danger and control is exciting.
Swoty Sarah is moaning “why are you always messing about?” and now the other kids are giving me looks that shows they agree with her?
One more blast of gas in defiance and I saunter to the back of the lab.
Standing by my stool, a thick wooden topped desk in front of me which has a sink and two tall taps that just need to be fiddled with.
I hate waiting and where is Mrs Humes? boredom is kicking in so let’s have a fiddle with these taps see what they can do. Twisting them around and aiming them in different directions I wonder how far they will fire?
For reasons I cannot explain I aim them towards the front of the class and leave them there. Inside me there is a battle going on, turn them on or leave them alone.
The door opens and Mrs Humes walks in “sorry I’m late class, I’m here now so let’s get started” she is standing right in the firing line, the battle inside me is over and with a flick of the wrists the taps are opened and two powerful jets of freezing water shoot across the classroom exploding onto her chest.
I’m almost sure I heard her squeal or maybe it was the sound of the water on nylon.
I am in shock, it’s as if I I’m watching someone else doing this and then realising it is me.
Shutting down the jets and trying to look innocent I can feel everyone’s eyes on me.
An extremely angry and very soggy teacher signals me to follow her out of the classroom and like a good pupil I follow her out into the corridor.
“stand there and don’t move” she sounds like she is about to cry as she speaks, she turns and marches away.
A few minutes later Mr Fleming arrives, still annoyed by an earlier incident with acid in a chemistry lesson he walks right up to me.
His stubby little hairy finger points at me almost poking me in the chest but not quite making contact, “follow me boy!”.
Following in silence we set off to the headmaster’s office. Mr Fleming leading the way with his teacher walk, teacher clothes and teacher hair I wonder what his teacher house looks like and if he has a teacher wife.
Outside the headmaster’s office Mr Fleming taps on the door and braces himself, for some reason I copy his stance. We didn’t have wait long before the door is opened and we are asked to go in by Mr Bleak.
Inside the office I take my position in front of his desk, after years of practice I know my place without being told.
Mr Bleak asks in a calm voice asks “Why have you done this Gordon? Mrs Humes is soaking wet, very upset and you’ve already been in trouble once today haven’t you”.
Trying not to laugh I reply, “I don’t know Sir I just did it”.
“You’re in front of me more than any other pupil in this school when will you learn to control yourself and knuckle down”
“Dunno Sir I just do things and things just happen”
“Things don’t just happen; you need to exert more self-control; I don’t want to see you in front of me again now wait outside I need to speak with Mr Fleming”.
Outside the office feels good, I’ve got the hardest bit over with now. I hope Sir won’t be long I need to know what I’m going to be doing next.
Mr Fleming comes out with a stern look on his face. He reveals I will be spending the rest of the day in the main entrance; I must stand against the wall, not use any of the chairs or move away from the wall.
That was quick and easy, my punishment isn’t that bad and its easier being on my own away from people and things that get me into trouble, also I don’t have to worry about my head and eyes moving around by themselves like they always do in the classroom, they make me look like a freak.
It’s like my job being the naughty boy on the wall, it’s a job I’ve trained for since my first years of school and I can even remember having this role in nursery.
So, I can’t move away from the wall, but nothing was said about sliding along or how to stand.
A couple of hours watching the comings and goings of the main entrance lots of sliding up and down, left and right I start the bending and stretching phase to keep my legs from aching.
I can’t help thinking, no matter how many times I’m here there is always someone going home sick, a deaf kid wandering around looking lost and a teacher trying to look busy.
It’s funny how time flies if you daydream enough and now there’s the bell to signal home time and freedom, it’s not been a bad day really.
I wonder if its dalesteaks and chips for tea tonight?

Battery acid and shiny bog paper