Resurrection
By The Chronicler
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"Oh my god!" Mrs. Johnson cried, her hands coming up to cover her cheeks in shocked horror. "How could this have happened? What did you do? I thought you knew what you were doing! For god's sake, you killed it!"
Knuckles waved her hands at the other girl, trying to hush her before anyone else heard. "Shush already, will you?!" she hissed, glancing around to make sure the halls were still empty.
Mrs. J stared at her. "Do you have any idea..."
"Yea, yea, yea." Knuckles snapped. "Why do you think I'm standing here trying to talk you into helping me?!"
Mrs. J started to shake her head, holding her hands out to ward the bounty hunter off. "Oh, noooo! I am not getting involved with that! No sirree! That is dead! Dead and me... we don't mix well!"
"J..."
"Don't you J me!" Mrs. Johnson shook her finger at her friend. "I am not getting involved."
Knuckles smiled. "You already are. Its on `your' desk." she pointed out.
The younger girl's eyes narrowed. "I hate you." she hissed.
"I know. Hate me all you like. In the mean time, help me resurrect this thing." Knuckles took her by the shoulders and turned her back to her desk.
Mrs. Johnson sighed. "What, in god's name, did you to it?" She looked over her shoulder. "Did you water it?"
"Yea, of course!" Knuckles sounded shocked. "I'm not stupid."
One eyebrow rose over Mrs. J's eyes.
Knuckles glared at her, just daring her to say it.
Mrs. Johnson smiled slightly, turning back to her desk.
"I watered it." Knuckles growled.
"How often?"
"Every time I watered Oddity. Three times a day... more if it get hot..."
"Three times?" Johnson shook her head. "You drowned it!"
"I did not!" Knuckles snapped.
Mrs. J scratched her head. "How about sun? air? You know who you should be talking to?"
"I am not asking him!" Knuckles quickly said. "He gave it to me! I'm am not going to tell him I killed it!" She stepped around Mrs. Johnson and started to dig through the desk drawers. "Maybe we can stand it up... sorta. You got any toothpicks? pencils?"
"All you get by standing a corps up is a spooky corpse and a B-rated movie." was the response.
Somebody cleared his throat.
The two girls jumped, spinning about to come face to face with Slow Motion.
As quick as lightening, Knuckles leaped over the desk and stood between Slow Motion and whatever was the topic of discussion. "Slow, buddy..." Her eyes narrowed. "Thought you were meditating... you know... in a closet, or tree, or... somewhere else... where you, you know... meditate."
All Mrs. Johnson could manage was a little giggle and a shrug.
Slow Motion eyed them both. It didn't take an expert to figure out that they were trying to hide something from him. Doing his best to imitate one of Rawhide's famous disapproving big brother looks, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared down the ridge of his nose at the girls.
Even Knuckles managed to look like a whipped puppy. With heads bowed, the two stepped aside, revealing their secret.
Slow Motion eyes the potted plant all bent over and wilted. He sighed.
"Sorry." Knuckles offered in a little voice. "I tried to take care of it... but you know my life! Running after bounties and running the club! The only reason Oddity is still alive is 'cause he bites!"
"Knuckles..." Slow started.
"Can't blame her, Slow." Mrs. Johnson leaped to the rescue. "She's got a black thumb."
"Black thumb?" Knuckles glared at her.
Mrs. J shrugged. "Take a look at that thing and tell me you have a green thumb!" she dared.
"Ladies!" Slow Motion snapped.
Both girls snapped their jaws shut, once again dropping their eyes to the ground.
Taking a deep breath, Slow Motion slowly explained, being sure he said every word clear and precise so that there would be no misunderstanding: "That, right there, on that desk, is a plastic, imitation plant. It neither lives nor dies." He picked it up and eyed the squashed stem. "But, apparently, it can be sat on."
The two girls looked up and asked, in unison, "Sat on?"
Slow Motion handed the pot back to Knuckles. "A pencil will work." he told her, before turning and walking away.
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