The Fan was a simple white one that could be bought at any Walmart where the lazy workers had broken a few while unloading them from the delivery truck last week. This specific Fan was given by a high school dropout who rolled her eyes at the consumer as he paid for the Fan. The Fan cost eight dollars and ninety two cents. The purchaser bought it with a ten and two pennies and was handed a dollar and eight cents. This was the incorrect change but our consumer was in a rush, so he shoved the money into his pocket and then walked out with his newly purchased fan.

First Day of School

    As predicted, it was a hot August day for the first day of school. The air conditioner units would not work for some odd reason; the students who decided to wear their newly purchased, tight jeans were dripping in sweat. But everyone was relieved when they arrived into room 301, on the third floor of the school, the first room on the left by the “haunted” stairs, because Mr. Arfant had bought a brand new fan that cost eight dollars and ninety two cents.

The Hot Air

    The air around the school seemed to be very hot, but as the students poured out of the school they would recognize the cold temperatures. Students would come to school in November, bundled tightly from the cold Michigan wind, but to their surprise, the inside of the school would be heated like it was the middle of June.
    Mr. Arfant had to keep the Fan running.
The Fan, that Mr. Arfant had bought for eight dollars and ninety two cents, would whisper to the students. It would tell them all sorts of stories. Stories of the Fan’s family, it had two table fans and his wife was a ceiling fan. She was a classy type, not one that you got from Home Depot for thirty dollars. They met at a c***tail party, he would tell the students.

Summer Air

    The Fan in room 301 on the third floor, the first room on the left, which held Chemistry that was taught by Mr. Arfant, became the talk of the school. Everyone would tell the stories that the Fan had told them. The English teachers became very excited at this new burst of creativity from their not so creative students.
Summer was coming up quick and the Fan was asked about his summer plans.
   “The family and I will take a trip to Canada or perhaps the Upper Peninsula. Mr. Arfant doesn’t pay me well.”

Last Day of School

    Mr. Arfant's last hour of the day was a noisy one. He had decided he would play Bill Nye episodes all day so he would be able to do the things he wanted. When the few minutes of the day were coming to a close, the students all said goodbye to the Fan, the Fan was trying his best to hold back tears in fear of an electrical shortage.
   When the bell rang, the students left first and then the remaining teachers left next. Only one stayed.
Mr. Arfant walked over to his Fan.
   “You’ve had a good run Eugene. But I don’t think you will make it next to year.”
   “Please, Patrick. I need this job. I have a family,” the Fan begged.
   “Come on, Eugene. You and I both know those were tall tales for the kids. We both knew this would happen eventually.”
Eugene accepted. He was just a fan. A fan that was bought from a Walmart. A Walmart that employed a high school dropout who gave Mr. Arfant the incorrect change. The Fan was a fan, one that cost eight dollars and ninety two cents.