Out of The Ordinary
By: J. Hartman



	It was around November, 1987...

	“Okay class, did any of you do your homework?”  The entire class sat up straight in their seats as the old man stands up in front of the class, his facial features showing the world of his pure boredom.  Probably seen better days in his youth, or maybe this job was nothing that he ever hoped for.  Either way, he's not too excited to be here.  Nor is he happy to be in this room full of what he considers “hooligans”.  In a flat voice, he asks, “Please pass your papers towards the front of the row.  If none of you have not finished your homework, you have till the end of this week to do so.”  He then sighs as he looks up towards a butch looking raccoon female, sitting right dead center of the classroom.  All she does is collect the papers from behind, then passes them forward to the person sitting on front of her.  Not once has through the whole process he has seen her put in her own papers within that pile.  He grumbles, “I'll see you after class Ms. Brown.”  The raccoon female grumbles as she folds her arms over her chest, looking both embarrassed and upset.  The man shakes his head, wondering why they even bother letting her stay in school.  Then again, he really have a low opinion on morphs.  But he's one of the few who, despite their unfavorable views, he plays fair.  Though he would not mind just flunking her right now.  Even the rebels in the back row are doing better than her.  She have not turned anything in within the last two months.  He just don't get her.  She stares off in space, sometimes fall asleep.  Yet, during group projects she can be lively and crack jokes.  Though if he asks her to answer a question, she just freezes and mumble incoherently, looking like a nervous child.  Thing is, she's 18,  going 19 soon.  She's not a child anymore.  Not in his mind.  He shakes his head once more, morph or not, he really wants her to excel in his class.  After all, if he can't teach a simple morph, how can he teach his own kind.

	The lesson went on like it always have gone for this man.  Once the students settled down and relaxed during his lessons....chaos seems to turn its ugly head.  And as usual he'll smack his fist against the beaten chalk board.  That usually jostle them back their attention.  Usually everyone except that raccoon morph, talking to that big Samoyed.  He grumbles as he thinks in his head, “ I never liked that boy, he looks like trouble, he dresses like trouble.  Raggedy black jeans, black shirts, and a black trench coat.  With long black hair that goes down to his shoulder blades.  What a mess....and he's the best student in my class.”  The man purposely clears his throat, loud enough for the raccoon to turn around and face him as the Samoyed sighs as his ears go down.  The class chuckles at the two as the man shakes his head, “Would you two like to share your conversation to the rest of us?”  The raccoon female sighs as she once again look like a nervous child, looking around the room.  The man just can't help but feel grotesque from looking at the female.  She's a brown raccoon, very short white hair.  As short as his own, barely inches sticking out of her head.  Her features are too manly, wearing clothing meant for males.  He's just glad she's wearing her jeans, he can't help but feel uncomfortable seeing her fake right.  He wonders if she enjoys letting everyone see it.  It disgust him, but not as bad as looking at her friend, that Samoyed is tall and lanky.  Looks like a stick than anything else.  And his hair, his HAIR.  The man really wants to smack the two around.  He don't care if times have changed.  That male needs to keep himself trimmed and dressed nicely.  That female needs to be a female.

	“Well, I was just...uh...um....well....uh...,” the raccoon female tries to talk, despite her nervousness.  The man sighs, thinking that the only saving grace the female has is does have a clear voice, despite how low it is.  She sounds too much like a male at times.  He honestly wishes she would answer his questions more often.  He rather hear her talk than the other morphs.   Especially.....

	“We where just commenting about your take on the civil rights movement.  I mean, come on, its amazing how you humans have all these strife imposed on each other.  Yet its weird how the only mentioning of our rights is some times during World War 1 where we where the only nation that actually sent morphs out to the front lines...,” the Samoyed speaks up, much to the man's ire.  The pup is really smart.  He have to give that mutt credit, despite how much he would love to just kick him out of his class.  The pup is the smartest student he had since two years ago.  Then again, despite looking like trouble, he notices he is usually well behaved...unless he is sitting next to that butch raccoon.  She is one out of two raccoons they have in this school.  And both are females.  He wonder's why she's not like that other one.  The other raccoon is so feminine, pretty looking, and very out going, and talented.  If that female had the same vocals as the butch raccoon, he would vouch to get that raccoon bred.  But this man don't see anything wrong with the way he thinks.  As far as he's concerned, that raccoon female currently in front of him should have been drowned at birth.  He sighs once more as he nods, agreeing with the Samoyed as he tries his best not to show the pain his ears are suffering from the mutts high pitched speech.  He wishes there's a law for them to never talk, especially this one.  He literally have to force his speech out at times.  Then again, he is one of the dying breeds who still speaks his non-sentient cousins.  “Yes, and the government went ahead and made promises that those who came home would be granted freedoms under our constitution...,” the man comments, feeling exasperated.  Though he stops himself from commenting out loud, “Funny they never thought they would come home....idiots.”

	“Yeah, then once the war ended, they had to give those morphs their freedoms,” the Samoyed commented.  Some of the other students in the man's class who where not morphs chuckled.  One of them commented, “Yeah, then there went our workers.”  The man smacks the chalk board behind him, “That's enough Mr.McArther.”  The boy shuts up and sinks into his seat.   The man can't help but agree with that young human male.  But of course, if he did openly, he'll be out of a job.  Don't help that the superintendent and vice principle are morphs.  The teacher could not help but smile when finally the raccoon spoke up, “Yeah, though it was only for a select group.  The canines mainly gained it without much problems.”  She then smirked as she chuckled, “They are so loyal that you can kick them in the balls and they'll still try to make you happy.”  The rest of the class laughed as the Samoyed next to her growls at her.  The raccoon just winks at him, then smirks as the canine smirks back at her.  The man smacks his fist against the chalk board again, making the class hush up once more.  “Watch what you say Ms. Brown.”  The man then shakes his head as he continues, “Yes, it was only for the canines at first.  Considering they where the only ones who willingly went to the front lines.  While the felines had to be dragged into the front lines.  Though those who did make it back did get their freedoms.  But just for those who went.  The whole group of canines was pretty much let lose.  It was not till the depression where all the other breeds of morphs started to gain their freedoms.”  He could not help but chuckle, “Funny how times changed during that time.  Where the morphs helped out their families as everyone fed each other.  And when World War 2 came around, the same deal came into play once more.”  He then sighs, “Giving...pretty much anyone who was willing to help the cause to join in.”

	“Yeah, by the time the war was over, about 50% of the morphs had their liberties.  Which sadly was higher than any woman or blacks at the time,” the raccoon cuts in, apparently getting gutsy in the conversation.  Much to the man's glee, though with the direction she's going, he is starting to wonder if it was wise to give her that edge.  “I mean, really, you people rather trust a wild animal than your own species.  Just because of color and creed,” the raccoon says for the class to hear.  “I don't trust you, trash muncher,” the human named McArther speaks up.  The teacher sighs as he folds his arms, letting the young boy speak for him.  “Matter of fact, why are you in here, your not a cat, nor a mutt.”  The other morphs in class start to hiss and growl at the boy.  Even though there are mostly humans, there are some morphs in class other than the raccoon and Samoyed.  But everyone else are dogs and cats of the house hold type species.  The boy keeps talking, “And don't give me that speech that we humans are the only ones who go against their own kind, Shandra.  Look at your kind, you guys look at colors too.  And the rest of you idiot morphs.”  He then points at a husky female, “You would not go down for that mutt, even if he's the last mutt on earth.”  He then points to a black lab male.  The male growls, about to say something till the husky female gives a look of disgust at the even mention of being courted by the black lab male.   McArther then gets a wide smile as he relies he's got everyones attention, “I don't need to give more examples since its the same theory for anyone one.”  The man tries not to show any sign of amusement as he sits up in his chair.  All this time been slouching behind his desk as he gave out his lessons.  Though apparently the boy was not done, “besides, most canines and felines grasp the concept of getting a job and morals.  Your kind, Shandra, are a bunch of wild science experiments that should have been destroyed to begin with.  All your kind do is run around in the wild, pretending to be Tarzan in suburbia.”  The raccoon female named Shandra slams her fist on her desk as she bares her teeth at the male.  The male takes no heed to her body's warning signs as he continues on, “Prancing naked all day, acting more like a pack of sinful monkeys than a pack of raccoons.”  He could not help but chuckle, “I mean, what part of society do your kind fill Shandra?  What nitch?  Either your kind are a bunch of Devo's, running wild, and causing more trouble than your kind to the point they are shot.  Or they are on our welfare system.”   “So we are not perfect, I won't deny that.  And I am sorry if I talked like I was better than anyone else,” Shandra growls at the young boy, “But if you don't stop talking to me like I am one of those idiots.....”  McArther cuts in, “You ARE one of them.  Your stupid, you don't even deserve to be in school.  And your OLD.  Old enough for a job.  Smart up and just quit now, or you'll be here till your 35....”  The class gasp as the Samoyed literally jumped out of his seat just to catch the raccoon from jumping out of her seat.  She growls at the boy as the boy just laughed at her as she remains seated in her seat by the lanky Samoyed.  She could have just pushed him away and gone over people just to get to the male sitting way in the back of the class.  But she did not want to fight her friend, the Samoyed.  So all she did was just fold her arms and pout as she growls, “Fuck you Josh.”

	The chalk board once again gets smacked by the fist of the man, “Okay you two, that's enough.”  He then looks at the Samoyed, “Thanks for holding her down Benjamin.   I was not looking forward to prying her off of him...again.”  He let his mannerism go for this moment.  Finding that here is a time and place for mannerisms.  He only calls them by their last names most of the time in hopes to bring his students to start doing the same without treating it with ire.  The man looks at his watch and notices the class bell is about it ring in 2 minutes.  The man sighs as he speaks, “Okay, I want you all to read chapter 45, do the end of chapter quiz as home work.  Due next week on Tuesday, so you all have the time from now till then.  Any late homework for this week, please give it to me either during lunch or at the end of the day from here till Friday.”  He then looks at the raccoon, exasperated, “I want to see you, and McArther after class.”  The both sigh as the bell rings, “Okay, take care class.”

	“So, you two are in front of me...again,”  The man sighs as he sits back in his seat, “Do you two realize how annoying this is?”  The boy folds his arms, smirking, “Well, not my fault she's a moron.”  Before the raccoon could react, the man quickly sits up and grabs her right wrist. She already had her right raised and ready to swing at the boy by the time the man caught her, “Shandra!'  The raccoon jerks her hand away and snorts as she just stands there.  The man could not help but nearly panic when she was able to jerk her wrist free from his grasp.  But was glad she decided to back off for now.  He then looks at Josh McArther, “And you, what's your problem?”  The boy chuckles as he shakes his head, “Oh come now, I know you don't like her.”  The man backs away in his seat a little as he was surprised to hear that come out of the boy.  Though his next worry was the icy stare he was getting from Shandra.  Before he could speak up, the boy quips in, “You always give me a chance to shoot her down.  Its hard to ignore the way you look at her.  Let alone any of the morphs.  You know they are mentally retarded.”  The man's first worry was to make sure the butch female raccoon did not try to throw a fist at him.  But instead, she's holding her cane in her left hand, thumping part of it in her right hand as she eyes them both.  The man shakes his head, “Josh, do you want to be suspended?  You know your asking for trouble....”  Josh speaks up, “You are not denying it, are you?  You really do feel that way...”  The man sighs as he feels he is about to lose control of the situation...

	Shandra walks over to her desk to pick up her stuff as her teacher commands her to come back.  The jock just laughs and calls her a dumb ass as she puts her back pack on her back.  She then comes back to where they are at.  Though before anyone can get any words edge wise, she growls, “I already knew you did not like my guts Mr. Johnson.  I already knew you think us morphs are a bunch of dumb shits.”  She then get right in his face, her nose touching his nose as she glares in his eyes, “And I can tell that your looking for any reasons to kick any of us morphs out of the class.”  Josh backs away silently as Shandra apparently puts her full attention on the older man.  Before he could speak, she grabs his chin in her right hand, pinching his lips shut as she growls, nearly spitting in his face, “The only reason I kept my muzzle shut about it is I can tell your giving us the same treatment as you would give anyone of your breed.  To save your job, or because you take pride in your job.  I don't know.”  She then lets go of his face and backs away as she continues to keep her watch on him, “No ones perfect, neither am I.”  She then takes her back pack off her back, ignoring the fact Josh was away from the two, picking up a chair in his hands.  Shandra opens her pack and digs in there with her hands.  She then takes out a small stack of paper and hands it to the teacher,  “If you quit making me feel like a dumb shit and cornering me when ever you get a chance, I would feel comfortable turning these things in between classes.”  The man takes the papers out of her hands, a bit shocked as he looks them over.  Shandra folds her arms, “You don't know me well, and you don't know anyone well.  If you must know about Benjamin, they live in a mobile home out of town with 13 others.  Most of them live in their barn, but the mobile home is pretty much where his mother lives in, along with the restroom, shower, and kitchen.  Let alone warmth.”  Her teacher listens, not sure if he wants to believe that or not, but lets her continue to talk, none of them paying attention to Josh.  “It is none of your business, but if you want to know why he dresses the way he does is because they are BROKE.”  She emphases the last part, “But his Mother and his older Brothers are WORKING.”  Shandra once again emphasizes the last part once more.  “Either way, they are not using the welfare system to make ends meet, though we all feel they should, since they are beyond their means to feed that many mouths.”  Before the teacher could comment, she growls, “Not like you give a shit, since we are nothing more than animals to you.”  The teacher once again tries to speak up, starting to look upset that he's not being allowed to give a word of edge wise.  She growls louder, “And me?  ME?  My parents work, they may be divorced and acting like the idiots that fuck off Josh accused my kind for.  But they WORK.  And they do their best to be part of society.”

	The teacher all sudden stands up and knocks Shandra away from him, only to end up getting hit in the face by a chair.  Josh then backs away, saying, “That was meant for....”  The teacher then gets up and grabs the boy by the collar of his shirt and tosses him away from him, making him land on his back on top of a couple of desks,  “Fine, I'll admit, my views may offend some.  And please others.”  Mr. Johnson looks at Shandra once more, “Its not a crime to think.  The only time you comment a crime is in your actions.  No one can arrest you for just looking at a person wrong.  But with the way Josh here treats you and talks openly about how he feels about morphs, he's the one who'll get in trouble.”  Shandra folds her arms as she bares her teeth at him, but Mr. Johnson continues to talk, “Agree with me or not.  But like you said, no ones perfect.  And I am not.”  He goes back to his seat as Josh tries to get back up on his feet.  “Josh, your suspended for attacking a faculty.  And IF I could get you in trouble for slander, I would.”  He then looks at Shandra, sighing as he really don't like her much.  But he can't help but feel a little bad for judging her and her friend without getting a picture of how they live out side of school.  Maybe he'll never change, but he can at least try to understand them.  Mr. Johnson then points to the door, “You may go now Shandra, I am sorry we got on the wrong foot.”  He then sighs as he realized what he just said, “No offense.”  Shandra, still looking upset, but nods as she grumbles, “That's it?  Just excuse me from your presence and you get to get away with what you do...”  Mr. Johnson yells back, “Just leave Shandra.”

	Once Mr. Johnson got rid of the two trouble some students, all he could do during lunch was just sit there.  Since no one hangs out in his class room during lunch, he turns on his tape deck.  A mono speaker tape deck.  The school supplies them, and its easy to bring some of his own music in for some of the quiet moments he may get between lunch.  He loves listening to Genesis, some Scottish band that was making a lot of air waves lately.  Though he prefers their older works from the early to mid 70's.  The times when he first started teaching.  It was a time when the town still kept themselves segregated.  Not legally, but more like a mentality that everyone just lived by.  An old habit that refused to leave the mindset of the time.  He remembered when he had his first canine for a student.  Brightest young male he ever had to teach.  He thinks fondly of that time.  When he was just young, starting out.  And even though he did not like the idea of teaching a mutt, it was satisfying knowing he still was able to some how pass on the information to the mutts mind.  He turns his seat around to look out of the office.  Yeah, that canine is now the Vice Principle.  The man starts to frown once more as he recalls years ago in the faculty lounge.  He was just doing his usual morph jokes, this time on canines.  The canine was the only morph working as a teacher at the time.  Mr. Johnson did not know the canine was just outside of the door when he heard the joke.  Then him commenting on how stupid mutts are.  The canine never did report him to the higher ups.  But since then, the canine no longer praised the man.  Instead, he just distanced himself.

	Mr. Johnson starts to feel he's been getting soft as of late.  Maybe its just old habits that won't die out.  He don't know, but he sure does know that what happened earlier would get him in a lot of trouble.  Especially between him and the raccoon.  He shakes his head, feeling awful that she was able to some how see through him.  Sighing once more, he stands up to stretch on his feet.  His thoughts get disturbed by a knock on his door.  He calls out to the person behind the door to come in.  To his surprise, it was the butch female raccoon.  The man turns around to face her as she walks forward, using her cane to approach him.  “Shandra, what brings you back in here?  I thought I told you to leave,” he says in a surprised manner.  He then sighs as she stands in front of him, within arms length as he exhales, “Never mind, what is it you want to talk to me about?”  Shandra at first says nothing, only takes a couple breaths.  Not doing well with hiding her anger through her facial expressions, she tries her best to keep a cool head as she finally gets calmed enough to speak, “Okay, sorry...for...losing my cool back there.”

	Mr. Johnson was shocked, “Sorry, for what cub?  Sorry that I am a huge jerk?”  It was Shandra's turn to look shock as she puts both hands onto her cane, leaning forward.  Mr. Johnson keeps talking, “Listen, Shandra, maybe I been wrong about you...”  He turns around to pick up the pile of papers she handed to him earlier and hands it back to her, “I checked them all, you did pretty well.  Usually I don't give very late work any credit past the grace period I hand out.  But I figured since it was me that stopped you from turning these in, I'll go ahead and give you full credit.”  Shandra could not help but smirk as she could not believe he did that for her.  She honestly felt he would throw them away.  Shandra then speaks up, “Damn, you actually checked them?  Really, I thought you would throw them out.”  Mr. Johnson sighs, “Usually I do, I don't treat anyone special.  Nothing to do with species or breeds.  That's just my job.  I may not be the greatest man in the world.  But I can at least try to give you free treatment. My main question is, WHY don't you turn your papers in on time?”   Shandra sighs as her ears go down, more on embarrassment than anger, “Well......I....am lazy, how's that?”  The man chuckles, “Well, we need to fix that.”  Shandra chuckles nervously as Mr. Johnson smiles a little, “Care to give me another chance?”

	Yes, this is an out of the ordinary day for Mr. Johnson.