//------------------------------// // Chapter Nine: Lunch // Story: Learning Curve // by Jack of a Few Trades //------------------------------// Just one final pass should do it.  Chisel Point blinked as he looked away from the tape measure, his vision slow to focus back on the world at large after making a precise measurement. He picked up the mahogany board and crossed to the other side of the planer, a large square machine with a wide slot in the front face. He cranked the wheel on the left-hoof side of the machine a quarter-turn, watching as the lower portion of the slot rose just barely. He carefully placed the board into the slot and pushed forward. The machine grabbed the wood, pushing it up and then back down again before settling into a steady forward motion. The planer began to groan loudly as the blades made contact with the surface of the board, and it continued for nearly thirty seconds as the long board was slowly dragged through the slot, feeding out the back side. Chisel waited for the board to pop free of the machine’s grip before he pressed the large red ‘OFF’ button and walked around to the outfeed side of the planer. He picked up the board on his back and carried it over to the large work table in the center of the shop, where six other near-identical mahogany boards were lined up. He placed the board on the table and pushed it flush against the closest one, pressing all of the lumber together to form one contiguous sheet of wood. Well, not quite contiguous just yet, Chisel thought as he pulled a particularly large bottle of wood glue out from the shelf under the work table. He placed it on the table and checked one last time that he had gotten the dimensions correct. There was a slight height difference between each piece, but he had been planning for that, and had intentionally stopped about a quarter-inch thicker than the final board needed to be. Satisfied that he was ready to proceed, Chisel picked up the first board and carried it across the floor to a secondary table. This one was simply a metal frame with slots meant to hold long bar clamps. He gently pressed the nozzle of the glue bottle to the edge of the board, running a thin stripe down the length of the wood. He retrieved a second board and applied a similar bit of glue to one edge before pressing the boards together. He repeated the process until the final board, which he skipped gluing. With all the boards lined up on top of the four clamp bars, he pushed the back piece of the clamps flush with the sheet of wood and turned the cranks slowly, watching little beads of glue squeeze up and out of the gaps in the wood. He tightened them down until there was no give left in the cranks, and with that, he stepped back and took a look at his work. “Until tomorrow, my love,” Chisel said quietly, chuckling a little at his own joke. He walked over to his main workbench on the back wall, where the project blueprints were spread out. “That’s as much as I can do on the backboard for now. What next?” The scale drawing was quite lacking in the detail department, depicting a rather simplistic outline of a desk, drawn from numerous angles and with lots of measurements noted along the lines. It’s rough, but it won’t be that way forever. A checklist was written on the left side of the blueprint, outlining the process of building the desk in rough steps. The list was categorized into main points subdivided into individual steps. The first main heading was “Sides” and under it were four main points, “Front”, “Back”, “Left”, and “Right”. He picked up his pencil and drew a line through “Back”. One down. He looked at the rest of the steps in the list, and smiled. He had a long way to go, but he was on his way. Now to start the front side. He pulled a notepad from his tool belt and placed it on the table next to the blueprint, and jotted down the dimensions for the front side. This was the trickiest face to do, because it was the one that had the cutout for the customer’s legs to go into while they sat at the desk. Fifty-two, thirty-two, and ten. He dropped the pencil on the table and picked up the notepad, headed off to the back of the shop to retrieve another rough mahogany board. At least, that’s where he was going to go until his eye caught the crumpled ball of paper sitting on the back of the workbench. He picked it up and unwadded it, smoothing the paper out on top of the desk’s scale drawing. It was the blueprint for the bookshelf he’d built for Cheerilee. Of course, the blueprint was only similar to the finished product in scale, but it was there, the design he’d followed to build that shelf for her. The longer he looked at the paper, the bigger his frown grew. All throughout the time he’d spent, he’d been anticipating seeing her reaction when she finally saw it. It had taken him months to build it in-between the projects he had going for clients, and the custom-made frosted glass shelf covers had cost him a lot more than he was comfortable spending, but it was all worth it. He was just in it to see her smile when he finally gave it to her. It was all just to see her smile. He ran the thought through his head one more time, and it lacked the punch it had when he’d been working on the bookcase. Sure, Cheerilee smiled when she saw it, so he should have been happy about that . So why was it making him frown when he looked back at the project? He’d gotten the desired results, hadn’t he? The shop door opened, putting the brakes on his train of thought. “Chisel! Lunch is ready!” Lilting Melody called through the doorway, not stepping into the room. “Alright, be there in a minute!” He said. The door closed again, and he was alone again with his thoughts. I’m just getting worked up over nothing. She loved it, that all that matters. Chisel picked up the old blueprint and instead of wadding it up, he folded it up into a neat little square. Maybe he’d be able to reuse the designs at some point in the future. He left the folded blueprints on the table and loosened his tool belt, dropping it on the table next to them. He afforded one last look back to the desk before he made his way to the door, flipping the lights off on his way out. Cheerilee crumpled the bag that had formerly contained her lunch, balling it up into a tight wad, before she tossed it at the trash can across the room. The paper ball deflected off the far wall and missed the can, bouncing back about halfway to her desk. She grumbled under her breath and got up to retrieve the sack, dropping it in the trash can she kept next to the desk. The classroom was empty, the children outside for lunch and recess. Though she normally went out with them, today she’d asked instead for Twist to keep an eye on things and report trouble if it happened. She desperately needed the peace and quiet after finding that morning that she had run out of coffee, and didn’t have time to get anything else into her system to help wake up. As a result, a dull headache was starting to develop from the lack of her usual morning caffeine. Tempting as it was to rest her head on the desk and grab a power nap, assigning a filly to be recess monitor was already a risky enough move. Not that it was going to be a problem, though. With the exception of Diamond Tiara and company, the class was quite well-behaved. She could count on them to behave for a few minutes, right? She sighed. Probably not. They’re kids, after all. She plodded over to the window to look out at the playground. From the look of it, there were two distinct groups of children: Eight of them were engaged in what looked like a game of kickball, and the other four—Twist included—were off in the corner of the playground, busy with some sort of game that she couldn’t quite discern. It looked like things were going just fine out there, and she smiled to herself. Cheerilee went back to her desk, pulling her saddlebags out from the big lower drawer on the back side. She pulled out a small baggie that contained a few assorted pills. She counted out a couple of tablets of ibuprofen and put the rest of the medicine away. Thank Celestia I thought ahead. I’d be dying from this headache by the end of the day without it. She popped the pills in her mouth and swallowed, taking a big gulp of water from her bottle to chase them down. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, focusing on the cool feeling of the water as it ran down to her stomach. She perked her ears, listening to the faint sounds of the children outside. There was some muffled talking, but little else. The voices tapered off for a moment, and then she heard the distinctive sound of a playground ball being kicked. And then the sound of it smacking into something. Hard. She cracked her eyes open, and then she heard it. A filly started crying loudly, and she could hear a few voices laughing. She flung herself out of the chair and rushed to the door, stepping out onto the porch to look for the source of the commotion. Nopony was laughing anymore, but she could see that in the middle of the kickball game, there was a mauve filly laying on the ground, surrounded by several others. “Hey!” Cheerilee called, leaping off the porch and into the schoolyard. Some of the foals backed away as she approached, and others continued to gather around. Aura was crying quite loudly, her face buried by her hooves, and Apple Bloom appeared to be trying to help her to her hooves. “What happened?” Cheerilee asked. “She got hit in the face pretty hard with the ball,” said Apple Bloom. “Aura, can you look up at me?” The filly didn’t respond very readily, but she pulled her forelegs away from her face enough to reveal that there was a considerable amount of blood on them. Blood was smeared all over her fur around her snout, and her cheeks were wet with tears. Cheerilee’s stomach dropped. “Aura, I need to take you inside the class. Can you stand up?” The filly rose up to her hooves shakily, still crying quite hard. Blood began to drip from her muzzle as soon as she stood up, and she held a hoof over her nose as she walked. Cheerilee led her along with a foreleg, and she noticed that the rest of the playground was all watching with keen interest. Just what I needed today. Cheerilee dropped the last of the bloody napkins into the trash can, shuddering one last time at the sight of them. She returned to Aura, who was sitting in one of the front row seats, clutching an ice pack to her muzzle, which was a bit puffy and red under the fur. Her eyes were also red, but she had stopped crying and bleeding. Thank goodness it was just a nosebleed, Cheerilee mused to herself. If it had been a more serious injury, today would have been a lot worse. Aura was calming down and seeming to return to normal, and that was the important thing. She was okay. But now the question remained to be asked: What happened? Apple Bloom had given her a shorthand, but that wasn’t all she needed. She knew that sometimes little ponies played dirty for some reason or another. She was even guilty of it at one time, when she’d intentionally tripped another filly named Blueberry Swirl and made sure to make it look like an accident. Of course, Mrs. Write had seen right through the ploy and made her serve a week in lunch detention for it, but she’d gotten back at Blueberry for… Huh. I can't remember why I wanted to trip her. A loud sniff from Aura pulled her from the thought. “Careful with the sniffling, you make the bleeding start again.” “Yes, Miss Cheerilee,” said Aura. Her voice was somewhat nasally, probably from the little bit of swelling on her muzzle. “How is it feeling?” asked Cheerilee. “It hurts,” said Aura. “Does it feel any better?” Aura simply nodded, clutching the ice pack a little tighter to her snout. She sniffed hard, wiping at her eyes with her free hoof. “Good. Just keep the ice—” Cheerilee was cut off by the bell ringing, and she looked to the door to see Twist and Apple Bloom come galloping in. “Go back to your desk and keep the ice on it,” she said. Aura dragged herself from the desk and shuffled off to her desk in the back corner. The rest of the students were back and mostly in their seats, and Cheerilee took a moment to take a quick head count. There were only ten children in the room. “Where are Rumble and Piña?” she asked. “I saw them hop over the back fence after you went back inside!” Twist announced, with all of the enthusiasm of the generic class teacher’s pet. Cheerilee’s eye twitched. “I’ll be right back. Twist, you be sure and tell me if anyone acts up while I’m gone.” “Yes ma’am,” said Twist. She noticed Diamond Tiara shoot a dirty look at Twist out of the corner of her eye, but that was the least of her concern for now. She shot out the door and broke into a gallop towards the back fence. When she reached the edge of the yard, she stood up on her hind legs and craned her neck to see as far down the slope beyond the fence as she could, but there were no children in sight. Faced with no other choice, she coiled her hind legs and vaulted herself over the split rail fence, landing on the other side in the tall brush beyond the fence line. She started forward, her hooves crunching the undergrowth as she made her way down into the woods that surrounded the school. She looked around at the small forest, scanning for any sign of her missing students. Still, she couldn’t help but notice the tops of the trees. The leaves were just starting to turn color for fall, marking that the Running of the Leaves would be coming up in a few weeks.. This really takes me back. The woods certainly hadn’t changed much since she was a filly, though the brush was certainly thicker than it used to be. The birds chirped lazily in the branches overhead, settling a peaceful air over the grove. She looked ahead, noticing a faint trail that marked her path. As the land continued to descend down into the bottom, she heard a faint giggle up ahead. “Of course, the creek!” she whispered to herself. Back in her days as a schoolfilly, she’d never snuck off of the schoolyard, but there wasn’t a child at the Ponyville schoolhouse that didn’t go down to Ambrosia Creek for a swim at least once in their life. However, most children waited until after school to come down for a swim. Cheerilee picked up the pace a bit, making sure to roll through her steps to make her approach as quiet as possible. Sure enough, the sound of splashing and giggling grew louder and louder as she approached the the creek, and she came out of the trees to see Rumble and Piña Colada, just as Rumble disappeared back behind the creek’s bank, accompanied by a splash. They hadn’t noticed her, and she couldn’t help but feel just a slight swell of pride. This was the first time she would really bring down the hammer of justice as a teacher. “Ahem!” she shouted, and at once the splashing stopped. Two little set of eyes and ears—one pink and one blue—peered up over the creek bank. For a moment, there was only the sound of the creek gurgling faintly and the quiet rustling of the tree leaves. It was time to lower the boom. Cheerilee watched as the class worked on their math assignments, paying particularly close attention to three students: Aura, Piña Colada, and Rumble. The latter two were still noticeably damp from their earlier swim, and she could see from the way that they occasionally glanced up at her that they were dreading the end of class. She’d held back from delivering the final verdict on their punishment, instead opting to make them stay after class before she finally hit them with their sentence. She glanced up at the clock, counting down the minutes before the end of the school day. There was still a little over an hour left until the final bell, but she could feel the anticipation mounting. Even though she had already given Aura a day of detention, that just didn’t feel the same. There was something bigger at play there, and she’d gone light on the punishment because of it. This time, she’d caught them red-hooved. Just an hour to go, and in the meantime, she could get a little bit of grading caught up. Today was Wednesday, the usual day for art lessons, and there was a neat little stack of pencil drawings. The entire morning had been devoted to it, and she’d taught them some basic graphite shading techniques that she’d spent the previous evening brushing up on. She turned her gaze from the drawings, settling on Aura, who was no-longer using the ice pack. She still looked a little disheveled from the lunch incident, but she was quickly returning to normal. Of course, normal was still rather troubling, as she was looking at her math assignment with her head cocked at an awkward angle, and she was squinting hard at the page. Those records can’t get here fast enough. She produced her red pen from the drawer, and before pulling the first art project from the stack, she glanced at the two swimmers from earlier. Soon, she’d be giving them their punishment and sending them on their way… home. Oh no. When they got home, their parents would likely have some questions as to why they had detention. And then the question would beg to be asked: How did they manage to sneak off of the playground when Cheerilee was supposed to be supervising them? She’d decided to sit inside and eat lunch, and that was the problem. Aura had gotten hit in the face while she was inside, and then Rumble and Piña had snuck off as a result of that. It was all her fault. Suddenly, she didn’t want to give those two children detention anymore. She needed to punish them for breaking the rules, but then again, she could be punished for her lapse of judgement. Or maybe, just maybe, she could reach some sort of agreement with Rumble and Piña. If they would agree to not talk about what happened at lunch, she wouldn’t give them lunch detention for the next... Cheerilee shook her head, breaking the train of thought. That was probably one of the worst ideas I’ve ever had. What if the two foals slipped up and their parents found out anyway? What if one of them ratted her out on purpose? If word of that broke out, she could kiss her teaching career goodbye. Not to mention, it would mean that the children would know that she was prone to blackmail. She snuck a glance at Diamond Tiara. She’d probably be the first one to use it on me. She’s got to be a little more clever than she looks. No, it would spell disaster any way she went about it. And so, she was stuck with only one option: Give Rumble and Piña a week of lunch detention, and pray to the powers that be that their parents don’t raise a fuss over it. At least she could probably get by with a stern warning from the school board if it came to light that she had let recess go unattended. Cheerilee looked up at the clock and bit her lip, watching the second hand tick away as it crawled towards the end of the school day. Or possibly toward the end of her career. This is never. EVER. Happening again.