Sheriff
I stepped out of the classroom following a familiar path. Once I had reached my destination, I looked up. Principal’s office… Again. The thick door had brass letters glued onto it reading “Principal’s office.” Any other kid would have been freaking out, but I wasn’t. I had been here so many times i'm used to it. I knocked on the door “Come in.” was the reply. I came in.
I could see the principal smiling mischievously, probably thinking of how to torture his next victim. As I was walking in, I remembered who sent me here, Mrs. Grenchwood. She was an alien from outer space, or at least, that’s what I think of her. Mrs. Grenchwood was an old lady about 75, but she looked 500. She is a bit pale, and very rounded. She always wears one dress, a yellow one with orange flowers on it. I never understood why someone would marry HER. She has tried to fail me ever since I started making fun of the other kids, and soon she started torturing me with extra homework (which I didn’t do anyway). At our school we don’t have very many teachers, so we have our teachers for 5 years at a time. I am in the 3rd grade and I’m stuck with her for 2 ½ more years.
“Hello Jimmy.” There was a golden plaque on his desk saying “Principal Hendly” but I just call him Larry. Larry saw me and pretended to be annoyed, but I think he was kinda glad I came; it took his mind off things. I nod a reply and quickly sit down. Larry was about 35, he had red hair and his face was covered with freckles. He had the straightest nose I’ve ever seen, and he had eyes that could stare ANYONE down. “Tell me what you did this time…..” he sighed. I told him.
“Well sheriff,” (I’m a cowboy by the way, or at least I try to act like one, so I speak like a cowboy too. If you have a problem with that, go read someone else's story.) “I was riding’ my horse Gilbert as nightfall was approaching. I stopped in a hotel for the night, and see a mighty pretty gal with some straw in her hair. Bein’ the gentleman cowboy I am, I tried to pull it out. But just as I was about to take it out, she turned her head and I ended up grabbing’ her hair instead. Then the hotel owner sent me to you, and that’s how I ended up here sheriff.”
I’m a story making machine, I can think of an excuse in seconds, but Larry knew I was lying. Seeing me every day for 3 years got him knowing me real well.
“Jimmy, you’ve got to stop helping out ladies in distress. How do you know she didn’t WANT that piece of straw in her hair?” he asked.
“I dunno sheriff…. I just assumed…..”
“Never assume anything Jimmy” Larry interrupted me.
“But who WANTS straw in their hair?” I asked suspiciously.
“Girls, that’s who. Go back to class and apologize. NOW.” He said strait forward.
“Yes sheriff, won’t happen again.” I answered bravely.
“Good man Jimmy. See you tomorrow.”
I walked out of the classroom thinking of the person who told me to help out people in distress. Most people called him imaginary, but I called him Benny. Benny was a cowboy, just like the ones you see in movies riding into sunsets, but he never gets anything right. He’s a horrible cowboy compared to me.
I checked the clock, 2:55. 5 more minutes till the bell rang and 15 more minutes till I got home, the only thing I look forward to. You’re probably wondering what I look like, I have dirty blond spiky hair, I always wear a hoodie and black jeans. People think I have a jerky attitude, but I like to think of myself just as too important to be around other kids. After all, I AM the only cowboy in class. After a very long 5 minutes of wandering the halls, the bell rang.
I ran all the way home. I raced up the stairs and right up to Benny who was lying on my bed reading cattle branding books. Benny doesn’t say much, but we’re still best friends. We always go outside after school; cowboys don’t need to do homework. We had our own little imaginary town in out front yard and it was a big day for me today, the day I become sheriff. Benny was the pervious sheriff, and he was resigning and handing the sheriff’s star over to me. At the ceremony, I realized I forgot one thing, a gun. Luckily, I knew where I could find one in my dad’s closet. I raced up the stairs to go grab it, and I found it. I went strait outside and grabbed the deputy star out of Benny’s hand. I was sheriff now. I started waving the gun around and jumping up and down from joy.
Then an old lady saw me. I saw her get her cell phone out and call a 3 digit number, which I though was odd, because I had learned that most numbers had 10 digits in it, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. For some odd reason, in the next 3 minutes there were these strange men in weird jackets that had the letters F, B, and I engraved into them were surrounding me. One of them took my gun and started asking me a lot of questions.
“Where did you get this gun?” he asked
“I’m sheriff on this town; I’m allowed to have a gun!”
“No” he answered as he handcuffed me, “you’re not.”
I’m surprised they didn’t handcuff Benny, because he had three guns and a knife in plain view, and they get ME for one lousy pistol.
I went to a courthouse, and had some people I never met before decide what to do with me. Benny volunteered to testify, but the judge completely ignored him when he talked to him, like he wasn’t even there. After a VERY long 30 minutes, the jury came with a verdict.
“Jimmy Wheeler, we have decided that we shall let you off on probation, but if you failed a class, or done one bad deed once, you will go to Juvenile Hall for 3 years.” And to my luck, I had a math test the tomorrow. Cowboys don’t need math. They need to know how to catch bad guys and how to ride a horse, not math. My parents were furious, and took away my deputy star and wouldn’t let me go outside for 3 months. They actually made me study and supervised, so I did all my homework. After an hour of pretending to study and about 15 minutes of doing my homework, it was bed time. This was the first time ever I have been happy for bedtime.
The math test came too soon. The questions were VERY hard, a lot harder than I thought. 2+11=? How was I supposed to know this? I’m not a genius for Christ’s sake. I wrote down 2+11= 7. 14 questions later, I finished. Mrs. Grenchwood always grades tests in class, and we always get them before we leave. Finally I got my test back. 71 was circled in bright red “try harder” was written to the side. I Passed. It was going to be a long 30 days…..
I had one more week of probation left, and I finally lost it. I was sitting in class, taking another test, as I looked up and saw my only weakness- Pigtails. Golden brown pigtails dangled side to side as their owner shook her head in thought. Before I knew what I was doing I reached out my hand and (completely involuntarily) wrapped my hand around the pigtails, and pulled. A the girl shrieked and started crying as Mrs. Grenchwood turned her head to me, as if by instinct. Mrs. Grenchwood freaked out. Her eyes turned blood red and she started screaming all these nasty things at me and said I was going to Juive, and then she clenched her chest and fell to the ground. We all sat there in silence till someone called the paramedics. They arrived and told us she had died of a heart attack. I got home and started to pack my things for Juvie, because I knew that’s where I would be going. Then the phone rang. I was the only one in the house and I was in no mood to pick it up, so it went to the answering machine. It was Larry. “Jimmy, I wanted to tell you that Mrs. Grenchwood died of a heart attack, but the police want to see you in court and talk to you about something. Be in court tomorrow morning at 9 o’clock.” I couldn’t sleep all night. I kept thinking of how much I’m going to miss my childhood. The next day I went to court and there were cupple FBI agents there talking to the judge.
“Your honor yesterday we found a mass serial killer we have been looking for for 3 years. To our relif, she was dead. She had been disguising as a school teacher and this fine young man found her for us. The FBI does not consider this a crime, we consider this a fortune.” That was all that needed to be said. The jury thought a long time about my sentence, and finally came up with a verdict. The judge read it.
“Jimmy Wheeler we have decided that we will not send you to Juvenile Hall. We free you of your charges. You have done us a great kindness; you have found and killed a mass serial killer. If it weren’t for you, many more would have died by her hands. You are free to leave.” Just like that, I was free of charge, like none of this had ever happened. My life was back to failing classes, being sheriff of my town, and living carefree. Life is good.