Trials of a Sceptic by Philip Ridgers

Mr Lewis was an unusual teacher in many ways. Firstly, he believed that homework was an encroachment on a child's territory, and should therefore be banned. Secondly, he would not punish children in the conventional manner of shouting, but would instead make them write about their experience, why they did it, what they hoped to achieve, and a conclusion, stating how they might have got away with it had they been able to try a second time. Naturally, working in an infant's school, most of Mr Lewis' pupils could neither read nor write, so he felt that his method of discipline was a far better deterrent than shouting. Thirdly, and most importantly, he did not discourage rumours and fantasies about fairies, goblins and vampires, but rather encouraged them, explaining how to fight the monsters that one could expect to see in a child's bedroom. At first, other teachers and parents had laughed when children began asking for silver bullets and dream catchers, but then, when this continued, they did what they enjoyed most; they complained. Mr Lewis just laughed and said "children will be children." So the disgruntled parents complained to the headmistress. She was the sort of woman who would not believe in a ghost if it flew into her room with a bright florescent badge saying "I'm a ghost!" worse still, she saw the word "Discipline" as another word for punishment, (An action she put into practice as often as she could), and saw no point whatsoever in deterring children. "Let them do the deed and then see the consequences," was her view. She disliked Mr Lewis for his attitude towards life, and his teaching style, and had been looking for a way to get at him. The parents' complaints provided it. So it was in this way that Mrs Carne, Headmistress of Carne's infant and junior school, found herself walking up the path leading to Mr Lewis's house. She was in high spirits, because she felt that she could give Mr Lewis a really good "sorting out," and that, for her, was a night out. Her happiness was soon extinguished when the doorbell started playing "Twinkle twinkle little star," and then sprayed her with water. Mr Lewis answered the door, and jovially welcomed her to his house. Still spluttering, not sure what to make of the situation, Mrs Carne walked in, carefully advancing towards the living room in case of any more practical jokes. She sat herself down on a settee and started to think about what she would say to this insufferable man. Mr Lewis came in and sat down in an armchair, smiling serenely. "Now then, Mrs Carne, what can I do for you?" "You know what I'm here to talk about Mr Lewis." At this, the teacher in question smiled and said, "Please, call me John. There's no need for such formalities here." "John then. I am here because a number of parents have complained about the way you conduct your lessons. They are concerned that you are filling their children's heads with nonsense, which they are trying unsuccessfully to discourage." John looked at her with a slightly puzzled expression, and then laughed and replied "They're kids, Mrs Carne. It can't hurt if I tell them a few stories, and brighten up their day, can it?" "It can and it does," snapped the headmistress, feeling her face going red with anger. "A story here and there is all well and good, but you seem to be convincing them that there actually are monsters under their beds, and that they should actively seek them out and combat them!" "Well, it gives them something to do, doesn't it? Better to seek a monster in your bedroom than to stare at one for hours on a TV screen." "Yes...well...look that's not the point!" spluttered the headmistress. She was quickly becoming flustered. Whenever she had gone to "Sort a teacher out," they had amended their ways or in one case had a nervous breakdown, but never before had a teacher defended their way of doing things. To be honest, Mrs Carne was in a situation that was completely new to her, and she didn't know what to do. "If you had children, you wouldn't go round telling them to watch out for the bogeyman before they went off to bed, would you?" "I have a six year old girl called Amanda, but yes you're right. I warn her during the middle of the day, so she can decide what to do about him in due time. Bed time's far too late to form a usable plan of action." "Does your wife agree with this?" "Oh yes, she's quite behind me on what I do. She's on holiday with her sister in France at the moment though, so I can't confirm this for you, I'm afraid." Mrs Carne was close to despair, but she had a few more tricks up her sleeve. "I'm afraid, Mr Lewis, that if you don't change your method of teaching, I will have to suspend you from your work. Your style is highly unorthodox and out of line, so I will have no choice if you continue on your current track." "Well, I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything..." John was cut short by someone tugging at this arm. "Oh hello Amanda, is there a problem?" Amanda was a pretty little girl with blonde hair and green eyes. At the moment she had a vaguely worried look on her face. "Yes Daddy, there's a werewolf in my room, but the silver bullet isn't working anymore." John sighed and looked kindly at his daughter. "There's no werewolf in your bedroom dear." Mrs Carne sighed with relief. She was finally having an impact. "Today's Thursday, and I've told you a thousand times, werewolves only come out on Tuesdays. Tonight it will be a vampire, but don't worry, there's plenty of garlic left, which should sort him out. And get ready for bed, it's way past your bedtime" "Yes daddy." Amanda disappeared from the room, presumably going to fetch some garlic. Mrs Carne sat there stunned, not believing what she heard. "Mr Lewis, this has gone far enough! It's bad enough that you tell children stories and make them believe them, but it's even worse that you don't even get the stories right! It is well known that werewolves in stories only come out on the full moon! You are making things up and distorting them, which will confuse the children even more!" "Oh, that's just what people think," replied John. "Werewolves actually come out every tuesday, but they take time off of scaring children when the full moon's out. All dogs like chasing balls, and werewolves are no different, except they have less intelligence than your average pooch. They think that the moon's a ball, and they howl at it with frustration because they can't get to it." "Mr Lewis, I will talk to the school governors at our next meeting and suggest that you are removed from our school. I don't believe in the rumours you are spreading, and neither do they. You will be out by the end of the term unless you review your teaching style. Good night to you." With that, Mrs Carne got up and haughtily strode from the room. John watched her walk across the street, still fuming about the way things had gone. "Ah, the trials of a sceptic," he said to himself as he walked upstairs to bed. An hour later he was snoring soundly, and a silence descended on the house, broken only by the sound of a vampire crawling slowly through Amanda's window, choking slightly on the garlic smell emanating from her bed. © Philip Ridgers 2005