Miss Morgan Begins

As one novel is finished, another begins.  Here are the first cantos written for Magical Miss Morgan.

 

Canto 1 – Under the Classroom

Three of the bravest representatives the Erlking could muster were walking through the metal tunnel that the slow ones called a heating duck.  Why they called it that was anyone’s guess.  The three had seen nary a single duck.  It was a big risk, entering the land of the slow ones.  You never knew when they might squish you with a fly slapper or zap you with an ani-bug-lite.   These were three of the bravest of the Wee People in all of the Kingdom of Minutiae.  The leader was a Pixie, tall for his kind at two inches.  His name was Donner, Thunder in the language of the Wee People.  His lithe body was a creamy greenish tan with gossamer wings of transparent stained glass.  The girl was called Silkie, a Storybook who looked completely human… completely blond-haired, Nordic human, but only an inch and a half tall, dressed entirely in green leaves stitched together by one of the Erlking’s stitch-witches.  And the third, brought along for the sake of muscle, not brain-power, was Garriss the weak-minded, a fire-bodied Wisp.  His naked form was made of actual flame, but held together by magic in a way that he could not burn anyone or anything without using the cone of fire spell burned into his flaming hands.  He could’ve burned the entire structure of the slow ones to the ground, so powerful was he…  Yet he would not have the first idea how to go about it without careful direction from one of the others.

“If we are going to find the one the wizard spoke of,” said Donner, “We must proceed to the place called a glass-room.”

“I think the wizard said it was a classroom,” said Silkie resolutely.  Slow one speech was a mystery to all the Wee Folk, but Silkie at least had studied it with the help of the wizard’s apprentice Pippin.

“I hope it is not a class room,” said Garriss.  “I am considered of such a low class that they will certainly reject me.”

“A pain made of brass is the ass without class,” sighed Donner, reciting the old stitch-witch saying.

“Up ahead,” said Silkie, pointing, “is a place where the warm air flows upwards.  It is some kind of doorway made of bars, a grate or something.”

“Yes, we can at least look up into that room,” said Donner.  “Mayhap it is the correct glass-room.”

The three wee adventurers drew up to the edge.  Looking upward they saw a group of children moving desks to the edges of the room, and a lady in her early thirties standing in the center directing them.

 

Canto 2 – Miss Morgan’s Class

“All right, kiddie-winkies,” said Miss Morgan, “now that we have the space for our talking circle created, we must take off our shoes and socks.  Bare feet only!”

“Why must we do that, Miss M?” asked Blueberry Bates, a girl with a very concerned scowl.

Miss Morgan loved the Six-Twos better than any of her other classes… and that was saying something because she really loved them all.  Six-Two, however, had the most Norwall kids in it of all her classes, and Norwall kids were a little more imaginative and empathetic than the Belle City kids, or the Goodwell kids, or the Klempke kids.  Besides, she had once been a Norwall kid herself.  It was a very special little Iowa farm town to Miss Morgan.

“Who can tell Blueberry why we have to have bare feet for this discussion?” Miss M asked the whole group.

“Well,” said Mike Murphy, a Norwall rapscallion and a Pirate, “we’re studying the Hobbit by Tolkien.   Hobbits all go barefoot all the time.”

“Very good, Michael.  He’s right.  But why does it help for us all to be barefoot?”

“Maybe it helps us feel like the main character Bilbo,” said Billy Klatthammer, the plump son of the Klempke, Iowa real estate king.

“Right.  But why is it important to feel like Bilbo?”

“He’s an every-man character,” said Frosty Anderson, a Norwall farm kid.  “We have to identify with him as we travel through the world of Middle Earth.  He’s supposed to be just like us.”

“My, my… Someone was listening when I was talking about the book yesterday.”

“And I think,” said Barbie Andersen from Belle City, “that people are more sensitive when they are barefooted.   You want us to feel what Bilbo feels and think like Bilbo thinks.”

“That’s very good, Barbie.  I hadn’t thought of that.”

“The real reason,” said Tim Kellogg, Norwall boy and most difficult child in the class, “is that you like the smell of stinky feet.”

Everyone busted out in a belly laugh, including Miss Morgan.

“Okay,” said Miss Morgan, “Now that I can smell all of your stinky feet, I need you to gather around in a circle.  As we take on each question from the study guide, we will go around the circle and get an answer or a comment from each of you.  We will talk about each question until everyone has said at least one thing and we have made an agreement on what the best answer is.”

At that moment, the first-year teacher from next door appeared in the doorway.  “Miss Morgan,” said Miss Krapplemacher, “the noise from this classroom is eroding my standards of discipline again.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Abby,” said Miss Morgan, smiling and speaking through gritted teeth.  She resisted the urge to call her Miss Krabby, the way all her science students did.  Miss Krabby insisted on a silent classroom and made students fill out worksheets all period.  “We will try to be quieter.  We are doing a discussion assignment, though.”

“Well, okay.  But stifle the laughing.  It’s hard to achieve serious learning with all the laughing going on next door.”

“We promise we will only talk about depressing things this period,” piped up Tim Kellogg.  “No more laughter this period.”

Bless the little black-hearted teacher’s kid.  Miss Morgan silently appreciated the imp as Miss Krapplemacher made vibrating fists with both hands and stormed out.  Tim was Miss Krabby’s least favorite science student of all time.