After last night’s row, I was banned from literally going anywhere. No hanging out with my Gangster Guyz. No baseball. No nothing. I was a virtual prisoner. Except for two things: school and church. And the latter was so mandatory that if I said no, my grounding would be extended to the summer of 2013. So I had to go, to learn and hear the Word of God, which you obviously know, I don’t believe and don’t give a single damn about.

  Before the regular church service at 9:30 a.m. was the Sunday School down in the basement. There, Pastor Ian’s wife Jeanne, who is dressed as a bizarre nun (she calls herself a “Presbyterian nun”) and whose outfit is complete with all the Catholic accoutrements (with the exception of a Crucifix), forces us to memorize weird cow language from Shakespeare and then recite it to her as if it is a spelling contest. Now these contests were awful as not only I had to stuff nonsense into my head and then perform them but I was frequently laughed at by Veronica and her lousy squad. On this particular Sunday, Mother Jeanne was making us recite the Westminster Shorter Catechism. Veronica, Sheila, and Carla were reciting KJV lines perfectly and getting heaps of praise from our nun teacher. Billy and his gang got through the recitation by cheating-Veronica would slip out a small cue card and the bully boys would read off of it while pretending to stare into the air. Mother Jeanne obviously knew but for these popular kids, favoritism knew no bounds.

  Meanwhile, I was trying to tell Jordan, Andy, and Ethan about my encounter with the Black Eyed Kids. I made sure that every single detail was included. I made sure I interjected metaphors into every sentence. I made sure that my description was so visual that my words would have transformed into a projection screen. As it is with Calvin’s luck, it didn’t work out. Jordan was scientifically skeptical.

  “I’m sure you didn’t make it up, judging from the sincerity of your emotions but there is a concept called mass hysteria. You may have read tons of Creepypasta about the Black Eyed Kids and then ascribed their attributes to the two teenage pranksters who visited you after midnight.” Her scientific matter-of-fact-ness was aggravating my already frayed nerves. “And then you subconsciously added more details, like seeing them climb up the wall like a spider and them murdering Mr. Grincher.”

  “They did murder Grincher,” I whispered forcefully. “I saw his dead body-it was a burnt corpse!” Jordan’s face remained indifferent.

  “You were extremely nervous while you planted the ‘Submarine Bomb.’ So you saw things. Ethan, what do you think?” The Gangster Guyz’ only pure nerd looked at me and nodded.

  “Jordan’s right,” he spoke in his typical shy tone. “You hallucinated.”

  “BS!” I cut in. “I’m not a schizophrenic!”

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  “Anyone can see things under distress,” Jordan rebutted.

  “Did you see Mr. Grincher do anything?” Andy broke in, quite rudely.

  “Like what?”

  “Did he masterbate?” His joke was burning my already stabbed body. I wanted to slap him right then and there.

  “If you say that again, I’m gonna whup your goddamn face!”

  “Children, what is so interesting in your little corner?” barked Mother Jeanne sharply. We looked up. Her steely eyes were locked on us. I knew from that instant that if I did not feign ignorance, she would directly go to my dad and well, you know what happens next.

  “Nuthin.” That single word should have settled it.

  But Andy, in his insolence, blurted out “Calvin saw Mr. Grincher murdered by the Black Eyed Kids! Ask him!” I wanted to throw a fist so badly that my arm shook with rage. I was so dead.

  “Liar!” Veronica shrieked. “Mr. Grincher is very much alive and well! And he will be teaching us next year! Won’t he?”

  Her squad of seven responded in unison, “Yeah!!”

  “By the way,” she continued as her tone rose acerbically. “Calvin should’ve died at the hands of those Black Eyed Children, I mean whatever. I would’ve celebrated all day long.”

  “That’s not very nice!” Jordan came to my defense.

  “Shut up, you autistic Mohammedan!” That insult made me want to wring that female dog’s neck. Now both of my hands were trembling.

  “Enough!” Mother Jeanne yelled. “All of you! If you want to argue and goof around, do it outside! Not in my class! Understand?!” Both the Gangster Guyz and The Girl Power Squad were forced to nod. Mother Jeanne looked at Jordan with kind concern. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, missus.”

  Just then, Billy crawled over to me and whispered in a low threatening voice, “When I see you outside of church, I’ll make you pay so badly you won’t be able to walk home anymore.” And he slithered back to his gang. I was ready to fight him-I had beaten him twice. A third time would still be a win.

  Ding! A notification buzzed on Mother Jeanne’s phone. For some mysterious reason, she took it out. As she read it, her face dropped in utter shock.

  “Veronica,” she began slowly. “You might not like this but Mr. Grincher is dead.”

  “Nonsense!” the queen bee snapped back. “Mr. Grincher is alive and-.”

  “Mr. Grincher was found dead in the foyer of his condominium unit. Police describe his body as one that had been burnt at such a high temperature that his skin seemed to be liquified.”

  “Let me see, let me see.” Veronica rudely snatched the phone and saw the photo of Mr. Grincher’s horrifically contorted face. Then, she broke down into a flood of sobs. And as if on cue, every single member of the Girl Power Squad and Billy’s Gang began sobbing.