Just Need a Mustache

Caleb wanted to go to Hawaii. There was a strange Magnum P. I., lifestyle desire building up in him. He felt that he could totally be an island detective. All he needed was to make friends with a guy that had a helicopter and another friend with a bar who may or may not have shady connections with the Hawaiian underworld. Also he needed an older British man to take care of all his financial needs. Then he could be comfortable in Hawaii. Caleb touched his upper lip. He would clearly need to grow a mustache as well.

“Are you paying attention”, asked Caleb’s teacher.

“Huh”, said Caleb.

“I asked you who the 35^th President of the United States was”, said the teacher, Mr. Roark.

Caleb looked away from the window and at the 7^th grade class. Everyone was staring at him. He’d done it again. He’d completely drifted off into a crime fighting daydream and blocked out the real world. 

“Um”, stammered Caleb.

“Come on Caleb, we just talked about this”, said Mr. Roark.

“Kennedy”, cautiously replied Caleb.

“Yes. Thank you”, said Mr. Roark.

The class looked away from Caleb and back toward the front of the room. Caleb exhaled with relief. It was a wild guess. Kennedy was just his favorite president so he just blurted it out. It could have been Mickey Mouse for all he knew. Mr. Roark continued with his history lecture and was talking about where he was the day President Kennedy was assassinated. Caleb remembered that it was in 1963 when that happened and he didn’t think Mr. Roark would have been old enough to have experienced the trauma. Caleb thought that he would indeed make a great detective.

Caleb looked over to his right and at Mary Shaw. He was completely in love with her. She was always involved in his day dreams. He imagined the two of them together in Hawaii, living on the beach, solving mysteries together, maybe kissing a little like they do on TV. She was so pretty. There was something about her that made Caleb feel very funny inside. But funny in a good Hide & Seek sort of way, like when you found the perfect hiding spot and no one found you. There was something exhilarating about it.

Mr. Roark directed everyone to take out their textbooks and take the in book quiz on page 27. Caleb hadn’t been paying attention at all so he knew this pop quiz wouldn’t go well. He’d try but was pretty sure his day dreaming would get him into trouble again. It would be the fourth quiz he’d failed in a row, which meant a letter home to mom and dad from Mr. Roark.

He took out his paper and pen and read the first quiz question, still thinking about what it would be like to hold Mary Shaw’s hand. His eyes drifted down to the first quiz question:

1. This President was responsible for the creation of the Peace Corps.

“Rats”, muttered Caleb. He wished he had paid attention to Mr. Roark.