Death by Manuscript/The Final Draft: Chapter 6

Samuel's agonising dilemma and Groucho on thin ice

Before we dive into chapter 6, thanks to those who have read the previous post about my new book, The IELTS Book You Never Knew You Needed, and an especially big thanks to those kind souls who have offered to review it.

An ever-so-brief recap of our previous chapters:

Samuel is getting increasingly anxious over his deadly diagnosis and faces an agonising dilemma. Dr Jackson, who it turns out was a mischief-making former student, appears as if he’s up to no good. Chapter 4 ended with his malicious smirk that Samuel failed to notice as he left the doctor’s office.

In the meantime, Groucho is up to his usual shenanigans, pushing the limits as to what’s acceptable in the classroom. Seven year-olds Mehmet and Sasha both went to use the toilet and never returned.

Start at the beginning: Chapter 1

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Chapter 6

[from the TV] ‘We are ready to call it, we are projecting a win for Kamala Harris in Minnesota.’

‘What are you watch-, oh, I see, why are you watching this? This is from ages ago. We know what happened next, don’t we?’

‘I know, papa, but we’re learning about democracy and elections at school, and how predictions can be wrong, and our teacher told us we should watch.’

‘Right. Hmmm…but it’s 6.30, shouldn’t you be getting ready for school? Where’s your mother?’

‘Don’t know, sleeping?’

‘Okay. Anyway, bucko, let’s get dressed and ready for school.’

On the way to George’s school, Samuel bumped into a few of his former students, whose children were in George’s class.

‘Sammy, how’s the book coming along? Finished yet or what?’ asked Carlos.

Samuel felt pangs of pain in his chest as he tried to put on a brave face.

‘Almost, almost, Chucky. We’re getting there.’

‘Hurry it up already, I can’t wait to read it!’

‘Sure thing, pal, sure thing. Almost done, you’ll have it soon.’

‘Bye papa.’

‘Have a good day son, stay out of trouble, no calling your teacher a witch anymore, you hear me? I don’t want you getting into trouble again.’

‘But you told me yourself, papa, she cackles like a witch. But I think you called her a sexy witch. Can a witch be sexy?’

Other parents overheard this and gave Samuel suspicious looks.

‘Okay, buddy, get going, we’ll talk about this later?’

‘What does sexy mean?’

‘I’ll tell you later! Go!’

Samuel stopped in a café on the way home. He didn’t feel like going to work that day and contemplated taking a sickie. It was a pleasant day, and a walk in the park would be therapeutic as well. As Nietzsche said, ‘All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking.’ He hoped whatever thoughts popped into his head would provide some answers, or at least clarity.

He got a seat by the window with a lovely view. Coffee first, then a walk. He’d cursed himself for not bringing his ebook with him; he didn’t enjoy reading on his phone.

So he sat and thought. What was he to do? Go ahead and finish the book, take his chances? He desperately needed it done in the hopes of getting some royalties. His debts had piled up, Sarah was earning little in her job as a freelance interior designer and his salary was barely enough to make ends meet.

Samuel was a content person, not at all depressed, but a thought did cross his mind – ‘what if I just finish the book, to hell with it, and if I die, I die.’ Surely that would send sales through the roof, which would clear his debts and provide a stable source of income for George and Sarah for a few years at least. That was one approach.

But if he were to die, then George would lose him. That wouldn’t be fair on the poor kid, and he loved his son dearly.

Samuel was facing an agonising dilemma.

Reader, have you ever faced a dilemma as agonising as this one?

Surely not.

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‘Alright you whippersnappers, here we go, let’s get cracking.’

You’d never believe it, but Groucho was feeling slightly less grumpy today. There was no rhyme or reason to it.

‘Where’s Mehmet? Where’s Sasha? Anyone seen them?’

Silence.

‘Anyone? Okay, never mind, who wants to play a game?’

‘Yay!!! Yay!!!’ Children always want to play games.

‘I made a fun game for you all and-oh, hello Rory, what’s up?’

Rory, our senior teacher from earlier, had popped into the room.

‘Groucho, can I have a quick word?’

‘Can it wait until after class? We’re about to play a game. The kids are excited. I can’t leave them on their own, either.’

‘No, we need to talk now. I’ll send Daniela in to keep an eye on them.’

Groucho groaned. ‘Fine, okay. Kids, be right back, then we’ll play the game.’

‘Yay!!!’

In the corridor, Rory was furious.

‘What the hell have you done now, Groucho? I’ve just had a meeting with Mehmet’s and Sasha’s parents. They are livid.’

‘For what? What did I do?’

‘That nonsense in your last class, with Mehmet pissing himself and Sasha soiling herself.’

‘Wait a second, I know Mehmet pissed himself, but that’s not my fault, the numbskull didn’t properly know how to ask to use the toilet and I didn’t understand what he wanted.’

Rory rolled his eyes and sighed.

‘As for Sasha, that’s definitely not my fault! She asked to use the toilet and I told her to go. And she did.’

‘Yeah, in her trousers. She didn’t make it.’

‘How on earth is that my problem? She’s seven years old, she should know better. We’re not here to toilet train these nincompoops, hehe.’

‘I know that, but they are only seven, you should know what kids are like. You can’t humiliate and embarrass them, you’ll scar them and then shit like this – literally – happens. What a mess…’

‘I can imagine – were the cleaners able to clean it all up?’

‘What? No, I’m not talking about that mess, I mean this whole situation! Jesus, Groucho, Jesus.’

‘I’m calling bullshit on this…is everything okay, what’s up Daniela?’

‘Um, can you guys come here? Small problem. Edgars stabbed Yuna in the neck with his pencil and Yuna then cut off the top of Edgars’s pinkie, there’s blood everywhere and I think Yuna is badly hurt. She’s unconscious.’

‘For the love of God,’ said Groucho. ‘Daniela, what were you doing in there?’

‘Daniela was on her phone, laughing, teacher!’ shouted Oscar.

‘I was not, you little liar!’

‘Yes, you were, Oscar is right,’ said Pavlo. ‘And you were laughing and smiling.’

‘Daniela, were you using your OnlyFans account in the middle of a kids’ class again? We’ve talked about this!’ Rory was furious.

‘I have no choice, I need the money! You guys don’t pay me enough to babysit these little brats.’

‘Wow, that’s impressive, Daniela,’ said Groucho. ‘Stripping in front of the kids?’

‘No! I wasn’t doing that, I’m not that bad. Just sending naughty messages and blowing kisses into the video chat. I didn’t think the kids would notice.’

‘Yeah,’ said Rory. ‘And you also didn’t notice the stabbings and finger cutting it seems. Let’s go assess the damage.’

Yuna was lying unconscious, a pen in her neck. But it appeared she was breathing and she had a pulse.

‘She’ll be fine,’ said Groucho. ‘As for Edgars…’

Poor Edgars was howling in pain. The tip of his pinkie was on the floor and blood was spurting everywhere. The other kids were filming the events.

‘Put those phones away!’ Rory shouted. ‘Now!’

‘I can’t, my Instagram followers, they are live stream now, they watch this,’ said Pavlo. ‘My friends in Poland, they like this.’

‘Give me that damn thing!’ Rory grabbed the phone from Pavlo’s hands. ‘Sit down, everyone, quietly. Groucho, call me a doctor!’

‘That’s not my job – Daniela call Rory a doctor.’

‘No, you call. Rory told you to call.’

‘Good god, you two, Groucho, come on, please, call me a doctor, while I comfort poor Edgars. It’s okay, son, it’s okay…’

Edgars was howling in pain, tears streaming down his face.

‘Okay,’ said Groucho. ‘You’re a doctor, Rory.’

‘What?’

‘You told me to call you a doctor, and I did. Hello, doctor.’

‘GROUCHO! NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR JOKES!’

Groucho reluctantly called a doctor.

‘Hang tight Edgars, help is on the way. Pavlo, put that damn phone away, I thought I took that away from you!’

‘Oooowwwwwwwwwwww,’ screamed poor Edgars.

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Comments and…confessions

A few people have asked if any of this novel is based on true events. Let’s just say that my long teaching career has provided its fair share of inspiration, but I also let my imagination get carried away. Sure, plenty of shenanigans occur in the classroom, but I can honestly say that I’ve never had any pen stabbings or partial finger amputations in my time.

As for all the other stuff going on…you’ll just have to decide for yourself whether any of it actually happened.

But feel free to ask!