ETHEL

It was ninth grade -- she was my algebra teacher. Algebra was always first period and we were always late. And by we I mean the four of us Laura, Ryan, Chris, and I. We were always late, valuing getting stoned on the way to school over being on time. I remember so vividly. Laura and I were in algebra together, and always stumbled in late with our Bagel Factory breakfast and push our way to the back row. The used to start the class doing times tables quizzes. She thought knowing what every number multiplied times every number was key to our getting algebra. She would pick random people from class to do the times tables and randomly point with a ruler randomly through. “8 times 5, 8 times 7, 8 times 3…” she’d say as she’d run through the tables, banging her wooden ruler against the white board. Now that I type it out it seems very 1950s, I know.

Laura and I would always stagger our way to the back row and I’d take out my vitamins. Well vitamins and pills, I was already on medication at this point. I’d line them all up, all in a row. Purples, pinks, blues, yellows, capsules, tablets and of course whatever color I had selected of my Flintstones chewable, my favorite pill still to this day. And I’d open up my often spiked OJ, and take each individually. It was like a religion to me, this ritual. As she’d run on calling “Lindsay, 4 times 8” “4 times 9” on and on hoping she wouldn’t call on me….at least not during my ritual. She always wore black. Black from head to toe with china doll soft white skin long curly prematurely grayed curly hair often tied up out of her face.

She would always eat the most disgusting things for breakfast I remember, as she went thru this ritual and during class. Oatmeal with wheat germ and goji berry juice and nuts she loved all sorts of random weird nuts. In addition to algebra she ran detention at the end of the day and once tried to send Ryan and I out on a witch hunt because she was starving and she needed some nuts. We went and got fake IDs telling her we could never find the store. I remember her being very thin but for some reason having a rather enlarged stomach area almost similar to a newly pregnant woman. She told me once she had all her “lady parts” removed. I had no interest in knowing what that meant. One morning she had decided to go on a diet, I did not quite understand this, as it seemed like she already was on a quite fanatical diet already.

I always had my video camera or photography camera, mainly to document just how fucked up my friends and I would get at school without anyone knowing it. She thought of me as some sort of amateur photographer and asked me to take before and after shots of her for this all out diet she was going to partake in. I of course was happy to oblige. I still have the before picture, hanging around my house somewhere. The after, she never quite got to. We soon learned the point of this mysterious diet. It was a small class, and we were all interested in this fascinating lady. She had found a boyfriend, our quirky algebra teacher. And his name was Tony – “Tony the Tiger” we called him.

Now this was right around the time where just about every kid carried cell phones over the age of sixteen and some younger. But still most adults were lagging and refusing to catch up with technology. Well with Tony the Tiger came her new cell phone – and all the hilarity that ensued her trying to use it. The phone would ring in class, and she crouch under her desk for privacy. “Tony is that you?” she asked and run outside seeking better reception. We all would laugh. This became a regular event in our early morning algebra apparently Tony had a very busy schedule and was only free during our class for chit chats or something. She had given me her cell phone number once, when she sent me on the excursion to find her nuts.

So in detention or occasionally class I would frequently call her from mine. She’d be three tables over…and end up rushing outside seeking “better reception”. And I would come back with some smart ass remark like “Mrs. Mooreman, this is Scott I need help with problem 7 over at table four please”. She’d always return to the classroom or to the library where detention was held wherever I called her from laughing in stitches. She always thought this was funny. So did we.