Animal Crackers

Animal Crackers

by Raima Join

“Muahaha,” the strange little teenager in a lab coat laughed before he started coughing.

“Darren! How many times do I have to tell you, get ready for school,” a slightly chubby, middle-aged woman screamed. “And why is there so much smoke?”

“Mom!” Darren whined. “How many times have I told you not to enter my lair?”

“Excuse me?” the middle-aged woman shrieked, putting her hand on her chest. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Do you pay the bills?”

“No ma’am,” Darren replied.

“That’s right. Now get going before I have to drag you,” his mom said sternly.

With that, his mom went back upstairs. Darren quickly traded his oversized lab coat for an oversized hoodie and shoved his books in his backpack. Not being aware of the chemicals in his bag spilling all over the animal crackers his mom had packed the previous night, Darren then bolted up the stairs, where he grabbed the doorknob.

“Hold it,” his mother’s voice said.

Darren froze and turned around. Lo and behold, his mother was standing there holding a camera, an unamused look on her face. Darren groaned, knowing what his mother wanted.

“Mom, I’m too old to be taking first day of school photos,” Darren complained.

“Well too bad. Now give me a big smile,” his mom replied. “Also, I packed some animal crackers in your bag in case you get hungry.”

“Okay,” Darren answered.

After the small five minute photo session, which felt like an hour to Darren, he left his house and headed towards school. He was finally a senior in middle school, most people would look forward to it. But after Darren’s best friend moved to another state, there wasn’t much he was looking forward to. He had known Kate ever since they were in kindergarten, they were inseparable. Darren wasn’t really a people

person, so he didn’t have any other friends. His mom had suggested joining a club, but he quickly rejected the suggestion. If he could, he would do homeschool instead. He hated having to be put in a room with strangers.

When he got to the school grounds, he saw kids hugging each other, asking how their summer was before entering into conversations he could care less about. He was walking down the hallway when he bumped into something, or should I say someone.

“Oh hey, sorry I didn’t see you there,” a voice apologized.

“Whatever,” Darren muttered, looking up to face the person. He was a tall, lanky, pale boy with black glasses. But what caught his attention was the boy’s hair, which looked like a faded-purplish color.

“Oh.” The boy noticed Darren’s stare. “I dyed it at the beginning of the summer. But I’m kinda too lazy to re-dye it.”

“Looks like you used grape juice to dye it,” Darren deadpanned. “Too lazy to buy actual hair dye.”

“Haha.” The boy chuckled. “What class are you going to?”

“Room 209,” Darren stated in a monotone voice before walking away. Just his luck, the odd boy decided to follow him.

“That’s my class too,” the boy beamed. “My name’s Cole, what’s yours?”

“None of your business.” Darren glared at him before entering the classroom.

It seemed like an old fashioned-style classroom, blackboard and chalk at the front of the room, along with a dark wooden desk. On the surface of the desk was a pile of books and paper scattered in a mess. Along with a huge dusty globe, which looked as if someone had pulled it out of an attic. Darren assumed it belonged to the teacher. As for the students’ desks, they were your typical student’s desks, put into single-file rows. A few other students had already got to the classroom and were talking to their new classmates. Seeing as though there seemed to be no assigned seats, Darren decided to sit at the very back of the classroom, away from everyone. But the solitude didn’t last when Cole decided to plop down on the seat right next to him.

“Does this kid not have anyone else to bother?” Darren thought to himself as he waited for the teacher.

By the time the bell rang, all his classmates for the year were inside, along with an old-looking man. The center of his head was bald, with grey hair around it. He had a small grey beard on his face,

and small rectangular glasses.

“Good morning, class. I am your eighth grade teacher. My name is Mr. Williams,” the man introduced himself. “This year will go smoothly as long as you pay attention and do your homework. Now let’s get to attendance, shall we?”

After a bunch of names were called out, they finally got to his name.

“Darren Andrews,” Mr. Williams said.

“Present,” Darren said, raising his hand.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Cole smiling like a kid seeing a puppy down the street.

“Looks like I know your name now,” Cole whispered, making Darren roll his eyes and start to doodle in his notebook.

The classes went by smoothly, Darren not really paying attention, since he already knew everything the teacher was saying. For him, it was like sitting in a kindergarten class. However, what did catch his attention was when he started to hear a small rattling sound. Darren looked around the classroom to see if anyone else noticed, but they didn’t. Darren then turned his attention towards his backpack, which looked like it was moving.

“What the heck is going on,” Darren thought to himself.

Whatever was going on with his bag, he decided to check it out during lunch. When the lunch bell rang, Darren was one of the first kids out of the classroom, his arms wrapped around his school bag. When he got to the cafeteria, he bolted towards the very back of the room, where a small table with two seats were. Plopping down on one of the ridiculous (in Darren’s opinion) colorful chairs, he looked inside his bag. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, until he realized the sound was plastic rustling. He nervously picked up the small plastic bag his mom had filled with animal crackers. To his surprise, they were moving around, like they were possessed by a spirit or something.

“How did this happen?” Darren thought.

Darren tried to retrace his thoughts on how his day went. Then it all fell together, making a clear picture, like a puzzle. When he was in a rush this morning, he accidentally spilled chemicals inside his bag, which had the animal crackers his mother packed the previous night. The chemicals may have seeped through the bag and landed on said crackers.

“Geez, what are in these things,” Darren muttered to himself.

To his dismay, while he was trying to figure out what to do, the bag

fell over. When the crackers hit the ground, they started to move on their own, separating. Darren hastily got out of his seat and did his best to round up as many crackers as he could, placing them back in the plastic bag. When Darren counted the crackers he realized one was missing. He looked around the cafeteria. Teachers had always said that if students were caught with a cellphone or toy, they would get detention. He wondered what they would do if they found out he had living animal crackers. He stopped when he noticed cookie crumbs on the floor. Animal cracker crumbs, to be precise—someone must have stepped on it.

“Hey you!” an angry blond girl shrieked. “Was it your bright idea to put that in my shirt? Why I oughta—”

The girl raised her hand as if she were about to hit Darren, making him flinch, bracing himself for impact. But then he saw Cole, holding the girl’s wrist with one hand, the other holding his lunch tray.

“You know, violence isn’t the answer,” Cole stated in an unamused voice.

The girl took her hand back and retreated back to her seat, while Darren scurried back to his seat, Cole trailing behind him.

“Hey man, what was that about?” Cole started to ask, but his eyes widened when he noticed the moving animal crackers.

“Woah, what are those?” Cole asked, intrigued.

Darren explained the situation a bit hesitantly, knowing it seemed a bit obscure.

“Now I just need to know how to remove the chemicals,” Darren stated.

“You know what goes great with cookies?” Cole asked with a goofy grin.

“What?” Darren asked, confused.

“Milk.” Cole beamed.

Cole took the plastic bag from Darren’s hand and poured the crackers into his open milk carton. He then held the milk carton closed, feeling movements from the carton. Almost as if the living crackers were protesting their unexpected milk bath. A few seconds later, the milk carton went limp. Cole opened it and showed the contents to Darren. Lo and behold, the animal crackers were floating in the milk, not showing the slightest movement.

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Darren said, shocked. “I guess you’re not just an airhead.”

“Hey,” Cole protested.