|
“I just can’t take it anymore!” Seventh-period history was the last class of the school day for many of us high school seniors. Mr. Felmet couldn’t tolerate us talking among ourselves during class, but his punishment was never more than just a threat to stay after school. On the last day of class in 1971, my always-mischievous friend, Bob, decided that he would get caught talking in class one last time and use the opportunity to pull one final prank on Mr. Felmet. So just before class started—when Mr. Felmet always walked down to the end of the hall to the water fountain to get a drink—Bob quickly made his way into the classroom. He sat down at his desk by the five floor-to-ceiling windows and tied a 10-foot length of rope tightly to the radiator base. He had already threaded the other end of the rope through the belt loops on his jeans with a secure knot. He then coiled up the rope and hid as much of it as he could under the radiator. When I asked him what he was doing, he whispered, “Just play along when I start talking to you once class starts, and then you’ll see!” When the bell rang, Mr. Felmet returned to his podium at the front of the classroom and prepared to deliver his final lesson to us. Bob turned around at his desk by the big windows and began talking to me since I sat directly behind him. It was early June; our school had no air conditioning at that time, so all of the windows were fully open and had no screens on them. When Mr. Felmet chastised Bob for talking to me during class, Bob jumped up and yelled, “You’re always picking on me, Mr. Felmet, and I just can’t take it anymore!” and he immediately jumped out the big window beside his desk in our third-floor classroom. The entire class started screaming and crying, but I jumped up and ran to the window and looked down. The rope had caught Bob exactly as he planned, and he was crouched down on the concrete ledge about four feet below our third-floor row of windows, hiding from view with a huge grin on his face. Mr. Felmet had slumped back into his chair and was gasping for breath, trying to tell two other students to run get the principal and the school nurse. I couldn’t hold it any longer and started laughing so hard that I had to bite on my arm in order to stop. Needless to say, once Mr. Felmet caught his breath and discovered the prank that had just been played on him, Bob and I had some serious explaining to do in the principal’s office before we were allowed to go home that afternoon. Our parents somehow couldn’t see the humor in this situation even though it was our last day of high school. Jon Gibson, Raleigh, Wake Electric |
|
