The School of Thought Part 3

  Harold and Roland had talked through the ringing of the bell, through the hall and into the lunchroom where they were handed a sheet of card paper by a guard. From their conversation Harold had found out that Roland, just like him, used to live a very comfortable lifestyle. However, this comfortable lifestyle came at the cost of being forced to live by the standards of his judgemental, overbearing father. Roland’s father deified intelligence, using it as a standard to measure the value and rights of other people.

  When Harold asked, “would your father really order your death?” Roldan told him about his father’s twisted ideals. 

“He views humanity as intelligence,” Roland had said. “The smarter you are, the more human you are. If you don’t think then you’re less than human, less than primate, less than mammal. You’re like a snake which only reacts to its immediate situation, a danger to everyone around it. My father’s killed many snakes before. I can't say he won’t do it again.”

  In the cafeteria Ms Finnley stood in front of a bain marie, food steaming behind her as she read from a sheet in her hands. 

  “Our dining procedures at this school are certainly unorthodox, so listen attentively as I explain the rules,” she said, in that stuck up tone that Harold thought would sound better muffled at the bottom of the ocean. “You have all received your cards. For the first ten minutes you will sit at separate tables and do the exercise on the card. There will be no communication during this period, is that understood?” 

  The students stood in silence. Harold looked at his sheet of card. At the top of the sheet it had two pictures, one of a rock and another of a typical yellow pencil with a red eraser on the back. Under the pictures, it read ‘Think of all the things you can do with a pencil and rock together and list them’

  Ms Finnley who was still waiting for a response shouted. “You will Indicate when I ask you if you understand! Understood!?”

  The students nodded in affirmation, some of them muttering yes and others shouting it. Natalia looked like she was on the verge of breaking down again and another boy, Graeme quite literally jumped back in fear.

  “After the ten minute period,” Ms Finnley continued. “I will tell you all to line up and hand your cards to Ms Weichner.”

  “Hallo,” said Ms Weichner, waving from behind the bain marie.

  Ms Finnley cranned her neck and shot a glare at Ms Weichner. “You are a teacher, conduct yourself as such Ms Weichner.”

  Ms Weichner shook her serving spoon at Ms Finnley “And you are a human, not a schwein, act like one.”

  A boy who was standing right next to Harold burst out laughing, his hands were quick to cover his mouth. Harold nudged him with his elbow. “Shoosh, Fred,” he whispered.

  Ms Finnley stormed up to the boy. “What do you find funny?”

  Frederick lowered his hands to speak. “It’s nothing, miss.”

  Ms Finnley struck Fredrick across the cheek with such force that his whole head snapped to the right. His eyes watered and he glared at her as his voice trembled. “Y-you cow.”

  Ms Finnley grabbed his mouth. “What?” she said. “Are you using your mind correctly, Mr Sedric?”

  “It’s Fredrick!”

  “Zip it! Do you remember the punishment for not thinking? I can remind you. In an instant I can-”

  “Ms Finnley?” She was cut off by Mr Kahl’s voice from the loud speakers. “Are you threatening one of my students? There is no punishment for hurting your ego Ms Finnley, so let him go!. And please teach yourself some resilience.”

  Ms Finnley was quivering now, holding back tears. She let go of Fredrick's face.

  “Students, take this as a lesson. The intelligent act on thought! Not emotion.”

  Ms Finnley ran out of the room, so a guard stepped in to finish explaining the lunch process to the students. After the guard finished, everyone was seated at different tables and given a pen to write their answers. 

  What can you do with a rock and a pencil? Harold pondered the question for a while but couldn’t come up with anything right away. This is so dumb. Do they expect me to come up with things to do with two random objects and no goal?

Guards paced around the room as Harold and his classmates answered the sheet. Harold kept his gaze on his card, making sure not to peek at anyone else's answers. He didn’t want to do anything that the guards could consider cheating. He didn’t dare look at their faces but Harold knew their positions by the sounds of their footsteps. One of the guards stopped behind him as he wrote down his first answer. Harold could feel their breath on the side of his neck as the guard leaned in to stare at his sheet. 

  “One answer?” the guard whispered into Harold’s ear. “I think you have the least out of everybody.”

  Harold, more than anything, wanted to talk back. I doubt you could come up with a single answer on your own. Even if you were given a day. But he refrained.

  “If you don’t want to lose your head, I can give you a quicker way out of here,” the guard continued. 

  Harold could hear him tapping his holster. Adrenaline coursed through Harold, causing his mind to race and forcing him to concentrate on the question. He wasn’t sure what sort of answer was wanted from him, so he just decided to write down any possible interaction that came to mind. But even so, by the time the lunch bell rang, Harold had only come up with three answers.

• Use the pencil to write on the rock

• Use the rock to grind the pencils graphite into a powder

• Use the rock to break the pencil

 When it rang, he got in line, in front of the serving table where he was asked to hand his sheet to Ms Weichner. She read each answer out loud to herself.

  “Three answers?” she said. She looked at Harold and sighed, her shoulders drooping as she apologised, “I’m sorry but that will only get you one portion.” She spooned a lump of rice into Harold’s tray. “Next please,” she called out.

  Harold looked at the heated trays of different curries and breads and the huge pile of rice which he only got one spoon of. 

  “Is this all?” He asked

  “Yes, for three answers that is all,” Ms Weichner replied. “I’m sorry but those are the rules. I don’t agree with them, they are very harsh, but they are what I've been told to enforce. I’m sure there is wisdom behind it.”

  Harold accepted his food and moved on. He didn’t want to cause any commotion right now. Nor did he want to subject himself to any of the mortal consequences which this school seems to dish out in abundance, unlike the food.

  Harold caught up with Roland who had received his food before him. 

  “Where do you want to sit?” he asked.

  “Apart,” Roland replied.  “We shouldn’t stick together.”

  Harold lowered his voice. “You want me to disassociate from you?”

  Roland broke eye contact and began to walk off. With his back to Harold he spoke aloud so that the whole cafeteria could hear. “Yes, I have no interest in being your friend. Go find someone else to sit with.