croco-diamond redux, part 2

(Johan is Marie's friend. I included him because my friend included the following in his email giving me limited information about Marie's school: "She likes the playloft. When Johan goes crazy it's pretty funny (Johan is her little friend)")

SO off they went to Marie’s classroom, which was filled with children, paints, pots of glue, tape, stickers, clay, and two goldfish. The croco-diamond looked longingly at the goldfish and said “Ooh, I love sushi.” Marie told him under no circumstances would he be allowed to eat the goldfish.

The children looked at the croco-diamond with curiosity. Though he had taken his goggles off, he was still wearing a pilot’s scarf, and was carrying a flashing red picnic basket. And rather than taking a seat with the children, he was proceeding to the front of the classroom where Ms. Kaeli normally sat.

“Children, children!” shouted the croco-diamond, though there was no need to shout because the children were silently staring at him. Most had been unaware that there was a croco-diamond living in Canmore. “First, I will take questions concerning myself, and croco-diamonds of all the worlds. Then we will move to the musical, a song I wrote myself, based on a poem which I first heard while just a small croco-diamond. We often refer to them in the diminutive, as croco-didis, but of course you wouldn’t have known that until just this moment. I heard it while visiting the Viscount of Snowberry, on the flying mountain of Nepalitani, which soars high into the clouds like a fortress flying here and there, always changing its location. The mountain is made of spaghetti and is 8,000 meters tall, and all the children who live there sing songs and eat cookies, a particular type of cookie, in fact, a cookie made from the finest flour picked at dawn by indigenous people known as the Sherpalopolus opolopolus opolopoli…yes, I believe I have that correct, it’s quite a long word, it’s been years since I’ve said it, I think it was last mentioned while I was having a late breakfast with the raj of Blanchworth…”

“Excuse me,” said Ms. Kaeli, who had been standing behind the croco-diamond waiting for him to stop talking, until she realized he was never going to stop talking. “I am the teacher, and and though your story of a flying mountain made of spaghetti is interesting, we have to get started on our lesson.”

(We should note here that the flying mountain Nepalitani actually is not made of spaghetti, but is a giant pile of mashed potatoes, built, as the legend goes, by children who don’t like mashed potatoes. Aforementioned children threw their mashed potatoes out the window until one day, well, there was a big mountain of mashed potatoes. We are not sure how the mountain is able to fly, but some day, as you look out your window, you might see a gigantic pile of mashed potatoes passing by, in the sky. Do not be afraid.)

 “Yes, yes, educating young minds is MOST important. But first, and SLIGHTLY MORE IMPORTANT, are the questions these young minds must have about myself, which is to say, ME. So children, feel free to ask questions and I will tell you all about myself. I’m quite interesting, as you will find, and I have gathered many facts from all of my travels.”

But in the time the Croco-diamond had been speaking about mountains made of spaghetti that soar high into the clouds (though we now know he should have said mashed potatoes), Marie had sent around a note to the entire class suggesting that anyone who asked the Croco-diamond a question would get a serious thumping at lunch time. 

No one asked a question.

Puzzled by this behavior, the Croco-diamond reached into his picnic basket and, without the goggles, was almost blinded by the flashing red stop sign, but still managed to find his bongos, which he pulled out. “I sense that you children are too intimidated to ask questions of someone as great as myself. So we’ll move on to the next part of the program, which is the musical.  I will play these small drums and sing for you a song I wrote called “Mongo in the Congo,” which celebrates the equatorial forest dwellers of the Congo. The mongo people are made up of many tribes, including Bolia, Bokote, Bongandu, Iyaelima, Konda, Mbole, Nkutu, Ntomba, Songomeno, Tetela-Kusu, Bakutu, Boyela…”

“Mr. Croco-diamond,” said Marie’s teacher.

“There are four more tribes,” said the Croco-diamond, who was obviously not pleased he had been interrupted.

“If you would be so kind, I need to get on with the lessons for the day. Perhaps we can make some more time for you this afternoon. Please have a seat.”

“And so, children, this concludes the musical part of our program. I will be taking a break to collect my thoughts. Thank you for your attention. I will be signing autographs at lunch.”

The croco-diamond regally walked to the back of the classroom, where there happened to be some bean bags. He carefully arranged the bean bags and plopped down on them, making a POOF and a PUFF sound. Marie was thankful that he closed his eyes and appeared to have fallen asleep.

Ms. Kaeli gave the students construction paper so they could make butterflies during story time. Normally it would have been morning circle time, but after the croco-diamond had disrupted class Ms. Kaeli decided it might be best to tell a story. Though she was only slightly familiar with croco-diamonds, she knew one should never invite a croco-diamond to morning circle unless one had ALL DAY for morning circle. Croco-diamonds tend to talk a lot.

“Once upon a time,” said Ms. Kaeli, “there was a man who loved every creature in all the worlds…”

SNORT, SNORE.

All the children looked to the back of the classroom where the Croco-diamond lay on the bean bags, snoring.

“This man,” continued Ms. Kaeli, “loved spiders, snakes, ardvarks, spotted turtles…”

“Croco-diamonds,” said a quiet voice from the back of the classroom, though none could tell who it was.

“And Croco-diamonds,” said Ms. Kaeli. “One day this man was walking through the woods and he found a cocoon. He took the cocoon home so he could watch it transform into a…”

POOSH, POOF, FOOP went the bean bags as the Croco-diamond shifted his position on the bean bags. 

 “…butterfly.”

SNOOOOOOZ went the Croco-diamond. 

“Ahem.” Said Ms. Kaeli.

Marie was so embarrassed that she focused on making her butterfly and ignored the Croco-diamond. She decided at lunch she would say that she had just met him, that day, and that he had followed her to school even though she tried to stop him. 

Ms. Kaeli continued, “As the man watched the cocoon he noticed that the chrysalis…”

“That’s a baby butterfly,” came a voice from the back of the room, which might have been the croco-diamond, except that it couldn’t have been because he was asleep.

“Thank you,” said Ms. Kaeli. “A chrysalis is a baby butterfly. He noticed the chrysalis was struggling to get out of its cocoon. The man wondered what he should do. Should he help the chrysalis? What do you think?”

Johan raised his hand and said. “I think we should let the croco-diamond play his bongos.”

“I most certainly agree,” said a voice in the back of the room that seemed to be coming from near the fish tank. Marie hoped that the croco-diamond was still asleep and not trying to eat the fish but she was afraid to look. 

Then there was a sudden PUFF PLOP FLUFF from the back of the room. A bright flashing red light appeared and disappeared as the lid for the picnic basket closed with a thump. 

“Oh no!” thought Marie. “He opened his picnic basket!”

BUT.

Iit WASN’T the croco-diamond who had opened the picnic basket. It was…

…Johan…

….and HE HAD THE CROCO-DIAMOND’S BONGOS.

“Who CARES about baby butterflies! I’M GOING TO PLAY THE BONGOS!” yelled Johan. He ran up into the playloft and began wildly beating the bongos.

Then, as if in a trance, the croco-diamond rose up from the bean bags and began to do what might have been some kind of African tribal dance. He took his pilot’s scarf and wrapped it like a turban around his head. 

He began to chant:

Croco-diamonds are cool!

I went to school!

With Marie! As you can see!

And as you know!

It’s time for the croco-diamond show!

Everybody gather ‘round!

And watch the croco-diamond get down!

The croco-diamond danced over to his picnic basket and pulled out the flashing stop sign. He waved it over his head and began to dance around the children.

Give it up for the croco-diamond!

Throw your butterflies in the air!

And dance like you just don’t care!

All the children began throwing their paper butterflies in the air. Johan, who couldn’t reach his butterfly since it was downstairs and he was in the playloft, threw a basket of dolls instead. And then some other toys. And furniture. All the while yelling “CROCO-DIAMONDS ARE COOL!!!!!”

 The classroom was complete chaos! Ms. Kaeli looked like she was going to cry, and all the children were running around the desks throwing construction paper, crayons, bottles of glue, and pencils. The croco-diamond had found the classroom supply of glitter and was sprinkling it on all the children saying, “I anoint you an honorary croco-diamond!” 

 And it was all Marie’s fault for bringing the croco-diamond to school!

Marie wanted to crawl under her chair until the school day was over. The only good thing that could possibly come out of the situation was for the tray of quinoa snacks to get knocked on the floor so no one would have to eat them.

MARIE had to think FAST! What was she going to do to restore order to the classroom???