“Mr. Jake..” He pauses, confusion written on his face, “Witherwater? Ah…May I request Mr. Jake Witherwater to step on the podium and take his turn at this elocution competition.” He says with nervousness and a sign of possible boredom on his face. My eyes follow him as he hurries of the podium and I see him displaying quite a big view of his yellow-ish teeth in a yawn which unfortunately he doesn’t even bother to cover up with his palm. Definitely bored. It’s my turn. Yup, I’m Jake Witherwater. Iknow water doesn’t wither, but I was withering like a leaf in snow. But somehow, the shade of green doesn’t seem to fade off. Dean asks me whether I am sick or something and Jemma seems to think the shade of green on my face suits me. And I really can’t stop thinking why I refused to punch her when she taunted me yesterday.
‘m great at writing, but speaking is not my forte.The main reason I joined is because it was either the elocution club or the MATH CLUB or as we prefer to put it- The Geek Fest. I am already not the most popular guy at school- being all scrawny and stuff, but joining the GEEKS and NERDS would put me at a new low in our high-school student ratings. I did try for the music club last year- and let me assure you, they were not happy that they had to put me in but Principal’s verdict. I guess the old man pulls strings for students often, because he knew to turn off his hearing aids when we played - the music club usually full of ‘recruits’ sounded like hapless animals being tortured to death. But I digress..
I’m just ready to think of anything except the fact that the school’s honor is depending on me and quite some unfriendly kids like Jemma, ready to pick on me once my tongue gets stuck to the roof of my mouth. Of course, no pressure.
My knees wobble, threatening to give out as I stand on the podium. The image is vivid. There’s a girl at the end chewing gum and sticking it at the back of a kid’s seat- who is obliviously having a snore fest. I envy that kid. There’s a guy at the back, shifting his weight from one foot to another in an obvious manner- he either is afraid of being chased by blood-thirsty dogs emerging from the wall, or seriously wants to use the rest-room. Fine, it’s the latter option.
Speaking of shifting weight from one foot to another, that’s exactly what I’m doing. My throat seems to have closed up. I just stare, and they just stare back. And it seems like it’d go on for eternity which I would be very grateful for because all I can think is ‘I’m freaking out… I’m freaking out!’. Suddenly I hear the sound of someone clearing their throat. ‘Great, I’m about to be kicked off the stage’. Suddenly a male voice says, “No, duh!”. I look around searching for the source. “Oi! Down here!” I look at the face of the mic and rub my eyes. On it is a pair of big cartoonish eyes and a wide white-toothed million dollar grin. “Hey. How’s it hangin’! ” I look around but no one seems to notice a talking microphone. There were whispers ringing out. They can’t be that oblivious! “Yo homey, you’d be surprised! You humans will believe anything and won’t believe nothing at the same time! I mean, like- dude! You guys are all bunk!!” Am I imagining things? “As if! Look around, You’ll see my dawgs!”. I, being too stunned to argue, look around and found that nearly every piece of furniture with facial appendages. Are those the mike’s ‘dawgs’?? “Hell yeah! Still think you’re imagining weak-knees! I hate being put to work for you idiots who just stand and go awn and awn and awn! I mean, like, where’s the music and the part-ay??Dude, you guys are buzz kill!” I’d agree with the mic but my stomach seemed to have crawled up throat. “Woah! You’re gonna puke? Don’t do it on me, blood!” For once, the guy seems to be making sense. I ignore the ‘Hey!’ and the colorful language he uses next, as I muster an “Excuse me” before running out the door. The last thing I hear is the mic cheering ‘You go dude!’ as I stumble down the hall to the boys’ restroom. I rush to one of the stalls and throw up my breakfast. I go to the sink and try wash off the taste of bile from my tongue. “Hey, you okay?” a kind voice with a british kind of accent says. “Um..yeah.” I choke out. Suddenly I realize that I’m in the boys restroom, but the voice was feminine. I don’t lift my head just in case. I am about to say something when the voice says “No, you’re not in the girl’s restroom.” I sigh of relief and lift up my head to see the rebellious girl, but nothing’s there. I keep looking around, bewildered. I mean I have a good imagination, but not enough to bend into reality! Whoa, I must be good! “Don’t flatter yourself. You ought to look at the mirror.” I did and I didn’t look any different. “Not at yourself Mr. I’m-so-full-of-myself! I meant to your right!” Nothing’ s there. “Your other right!” And that’s when I spot the pair of eyes, with long eyebrows and a pair of red lips. I’m going mad. “No sweetheart. What you see is true and personally, I think you’re handling it better than the rest.” What did the rest do? “Oh, let’s just say they are in the bug-house.” Great, they went to the mental asylum! I feel so safe and lucky that I can see non-living things talk to me and have them read my thoughts! “You should, you know. We barely show ourselves. You see, after a few…incidents, we decided to come out only when we sense someone with a sense of courage and imagination. You see…” she pauses for dramatic effect “We aren’t non-living, merely non-breathing.” I take a deep breath- being lectured by a mirror! “Oh, I’m sorry know-it-all, but I guess you don’t want to meet the friends I sent for you! I suppose I have to send them back…” I sigh. This day couldn’t get crazier so, what the heck! “Come in, boys!” And inside enters the most admired and loved characters of childhood that best make a child. He enters munching a carrot and says his signature dialog “Eh..What’s up, doc?”! Yup people, its Bugs Bunny! And my jaws down on the floor, so excuse me as I lift it up. And behind him a voice says, “That’s unfair rabbit! Why can’t I talk first?!” It’s Daffy Duck!
“No, I speak first!” argued the rabbit.
“No, I speak first!” argued the duck.
“No, I speak first!”,
“No, I speak first!”,
“No, you speak first!” Bugs said calmly.
“No, you speak first rabbit, and that’s that!” said the duck.
“Whatever you say.” He shrugs.
“You’re des-picable.” Says Daffy after realizing what he had got himself into.
“Boys? Getting a little distracted?” said the mirror.
“So, hey there. I heard you were going to give a speech!” Bugs continues.
“BUGS BUNNY? DAFFY DUCK? You-here-how???” I say, barely able to speak.
The mirror replies before them “There’s a children’s convention at the other side of the auditorium.” She said it nonchalantly.
“Enough about us, Jake, this is about you.” Daffy intervened.
“You know…my name?” I stuttered.
“Sure, we do! So tell me bud, what’s wrong?” Bugs insisted.
“I…don’t….know…” I reply surprising myself. I felt nervous…for no reason.
I don’t need to care about the people there, they’ll always be jerks. And what if I see things others can’t? It means I’m stronger and better! If I’m better than them at that, then this is a piece of cake. Something seems to click. It is as if a light bulb burns in the dark, the nervousness disappeared. I take a deep breath. “I have an idea.” I say. “Then you’d better go put it in action champ, because you’ve got” He looks at his wrist, and on noticing the lack of a watch, he just says “little time.” “I wash my face, wiping it of with a hanky daffy gives me. From where he got it I have no idea, but if I’m lucky it wasn’t near his rump. “Thanks guys! It was great talking to you!” I say as I run out, last hearing the phrases “We didn’t even do anything!” and a “Knock’em dead!”. I rush to the hall. The last girl has just finished and everyone’s getting up. I rush to the podium and tap on the mike, saying a silent sorry to the mike. “Excuse me, I’m really sorry for the delay. I’m Jake Witherwater and my topic is-
Imagination is more important than knowledge….
The story speaks for itself, don’t you think?