"Dude, what are you looking at, " Lucas whispered to me as Mr. Channing, our substitute teacher, wrote on the board about a worksheet he had passed out. 

        "He has a rubber ducky in his pant's front pocket, " I muttered back not taking my eyes off the yellow item. My hand slowly twirled the end of my hair. It was a few inches past my shoulders already. Maybe I should cut it...

        Lucas' eyes wandered to Mr. Channing's pocket and now we were both were stuck staring curiously at the small duck. 

        A few minutes had past and now the entire class was staring at the rubber ducky. 

        Lucas had told Sarah, Sarah told Bernie, Bernie told Allen, Allen told Kasey, and so on. None of us could break out of the mystical trance the squeaky bath toy had put us in. 

        We were all paralyzed in our chairs. 

        Mr. Channing continued talking but his words came in one ear and went out the other. Surprisingly, he had not commented on how quiet we were. Did he really expect a group of high schools to be this respectfully calm especially with the sun beating down on us through the open window? 

        He didn't say a word, apparently yes. 

        He turned back to us and saw our eyes staring intently at him. Or that's what saw in his mind even though we were focused on the duck. 

        "Uh, something wrong?" He inquired quizzically but no one said a word, too enchanted. 

        He followed our gaze to his pocket and pulled out the duck. We continued to watch the duck. 

        He cleared his throat, " This is my lucky ducky, Leo." 

        "Hello, Leo, " We greeted in sync surprising the teacher and Leo squeaked, also surprised. 

        Mr. Channing coughed unpleasantly most likely uncomfortable with all the attention of his focused on the yellow rubber duck.  Our gazes had been close to him after all.  

        "Let's get back to the lesson, alright? " He said sticking the duck back into his pocket but I noticed something very strange. The duck's beak, when he put it away, turned purple for a moment before going away. 

        Suddenly, the trance was broken and I found myself able to move once again.  I stretched my fingers experimentally, just in case. 

        We all talked to each other trying to find out what had happened in those few minutes. I didn't say a word about the duck's beak blaming it on my imagination. Maybe a trick of the light? 

        The trance was broken and we kept our eyes on Mr. Channing but I couldn't help but look over at the duck every minute or so just to see if it would glow again. It didn't so, I decided it was a trick of the light.