Zach raced out of the office and onto the curb. No sooner had the door slammed, then the whole office rushed to the window. They stole glances on their way to the water cooler, made excuses to carry around papers, or just planted themselves in front of the window, sipping lukewarm coffee.
“Are we just going leave him there?” a staff member, Mr. Brokeshaw, asked Ms.Nasty. “I mean, I can drive him?”
“No; he has to learn to read instructions. This is not our problem.”
Gentry looked down as the man walked past his door, then stole a look out the window.
“Moron.” he thought to himself, watching Zach pace back and forth while talking on his cellphone. Was this really worth watching?
Gentry just shook his head, and went back to drawing circles. His father sat on the other side of the room, loudly typing on a keyboard.
“There’s no signal on that part of campus. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, is he?”
“He’s not a tool.” Gentry replied without glancing up.
“I know; I see him …” Ms.Nasty said to the principal, “I’m not sure what he’s doing.”
At this, Gentry stole another glance out the window.
In the middle of the street, Zach stood with arms outstretched, as cars either swerved around and swooshed past him.
“This is ridiculous…” Gentry murmured under his breath, shaking his head. He was about to look away again, when a car screeched to a halt. Zach leaned in to the windshield, then climbed in in to the passenger seat— just as Ms.Nasty raced outside to holler how standing in the street was against the rules.
But the car had already sped off. Gentry held a bemused silence, as his eyes watched it disappear along the horizon. Johnson also stared, closing his mouth with a deep breath and furrowed brow, “He’s something else.”