I,  Penelope

By 

Amanda Hamlin

Chapter One

Dungeon Master 2

Part 2

continued from Ch. 1 Part I

I'm sitting outside my Spanish class after lunch, waiting for the doors to open.  Robert, who's in this class too, is sitting a short way down the hall from me, his nose buried in a book.  Although I would like it if he talking to me instead of reading, I do like the fact that he reads books a lot because I read books a lot too, so that's, like, something we have in common. 

My best friend Kendra, who's also in the class, is sitting next to me.  Kendra doesn't like to read a lot, or at all.  She likes to watch MTV and try on skimpy clothes at the mall.  Pretty much the only thing we have in common is Robert. They're good friends (totally platonic she assures me).  Actually, I started trying to be friends with Kendra in the hopes that hanging out with her would give me a chance to hang out with Robert.  So far, this idea hasn't born fruit but, in the meantime, we've kinda bonded.  I, obviously, had to open my heart to her and tell her my secrets and she chose to do the same for me, which, I think, qualifies us for best friend status.  We also have a long-time mutual friend named Julia, which made things a lot easier.

“Officially” I'm supposed to be having a conversation with Kendra right now.  But I'm not really.  Yes, partly because Robert is distracting me but also because Kendra's friend Sarah (who, fortunately, isn't in our class) is sitting on the other side of her and I hate Sarah.  All she ever wants to talk about is guys and how “hot” they are.  This interests me not at all since I have absolutely no interest in any guys except Robert.  And I'm not allowed to talk about him because Sarah (and most other girls) think he's a loser.  Not that I would ever trust her with a secret as dangerous as who I like. 

To my great relief, when I tune back into their conversation, I discover that, for once, she's actually talking about something else: her cousin's trip to France.  “And guess what she brought my family as a present,” she cries.  “Goose liver.”  Kendra and I both make gagging noises.  “And that's not the worst of it.  She went to restaurants there where you can order snails.  How gross is that?”  

“Almost as disgusting as eating worms,” replies Kendra with conviction.  Robert glances up over the edge of his book and looks upset, probably about how loud we're being.  “That's really sick.  I'm so glad I didn't have to go to France.”

“I don't know.  I think it would have been worth it,” says Sarah.  I'm about to mention all the wonderful castles in France by way of agreeing with her, but she's not done yet.  “My cousin says the French guys are really hot.”  Okay, time to change the subject. 

“Snails don't actually sound so bad, compared to other things,” I say quickly.  Gross food is so much more of a palatable topic.  “I've heard, in some African countries, they eat ants.”  I pause for effect.  “Or termites.”  I enjoy listening to and watching their reactions of disgust, although Robert plainly does not.  But I can't let them finish or they'll go back to their truly disgusting guy talk.  “It's really weird what different people think is gross,” I continue.  “I mean, the Japanese think its gross that Americans eat raw vegetables like salads.”

“Yes, but they're eating raw fish and getting sick from it,” says Robert, temporarily setting down his book.  “We eat raw vegetables and we're just fine.”  My heart does a little skip and jump that I've actually gotten him to interact with me, even though it only lasted a couple of seconds.  

“Okay, sure there are some things that are just bad for you,” I say, hoping to keep Robert in the conversation, even though he's already picked up his book again.  “But most food is actually less dangerous that you think.  There's a special Korean dish made from old cabbage and that doesn't make anyone sick.”

Sarah makes another noise of disgust.  “Fresh cabbage is gross enough,” she cries.  

“I've actually had this dish,” I say smugly.  “It's really quite tasty.”  Sarah appears to turn slightly green though, in the dim hallway, its hard to be sure.  It might be nothing more than my self-congratulatory imagination.  It's actually quite satisfying to make her ill for once, after all the times she's sickened me with her talk about guys' butts and biceps and...ugh!  I'll stop now.  Just the memory is making me queasy.

“The only Korean food I know anything about,” says Kendra, “is the hot and sour soup from the restaurant in the shopping center by my house.  It's pretty good even though those clear noodles in it look a little weird.”

But now we've disturbed Robert again.  “Do you know what those clear noodles are made out of?” he asks pointedly.  “Strings of pus from cows' eyes, that's what.”  Kendra does not like this information at all.  I'm smart enough to realize that what he's saying isn't true but, apparently, she isn't.  “The best plan is never to ask what's in food if it's foreign,” Robert goes on smugly.

“I didn't ask you,” snaps Kendra.  “You just volunteered that information all on your own and nobody wanted to hear it.”  Well, except me, but never mind.  Robert ignores her and goes back to his book.  But, as Kendra continues to rant loudly, it gradually becomes clear that he won't be able to get any reading done.  To make matters worse, Julia wanders by at this moment.  She hates Robert so, when she sees Kendra is attacking him, she joins in enthusiastically.  Robert puts his book down in exasperation.  This seems like the perfect opportunity to start a conversation.  

“What are you reading?” I ask, scooting closer to him.

“Oh, I'm not reading anything now.”

“Yes, but what were you trying to read just now.”  I point at the book.

“Oh that.  That's not a real book.  It's a list of codes I can use to hack into the FBI computers.”  

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I'm actually a mass murderer and I want to erase my records.”  

“I can believe that,” I laugh.  At this point Kendra starts to become distracted from Sarah and Julia and starts paying attention to our conversation instead.  

“Of course, now that you know, I'll have to kill you.”

“I'd like to see you try,” mocks Kendra. 

“It will be easy.  My backpack is full of several weapons, which I will now show to you.  Of course, that means I will have to make sure I kill you.”  He takes out his calculator.  “Now this looks like an ordinary, innocent, graphing calculator, but you can type in a secret code and it will cause several strategically placed nuclear weapons to blow up.  You could blow up the school.”   Here he goes with one of his creative stories again.  Swoon.  I can't resist urging him on.

“Let's see these nuclear weapons,” I challenge.

“They have already been placed. These,” he pulls out his cards, “look like regular cards but you can stick them in the crack of a door and add a special chemical (which I'm not going to tell you about) and they will explode.  You could open a safe with them.  This book has a bar code on the back, which I can put through the credit card scanner at the store and it will reduce the cost of what I'm buying to nothing.”

“Wouldn't people find it a little strange,” I ask skeptically, “to see you putting a book in a credit card slot.”  Robert doesn't respond to me, which means he hasn't thought up a good answer.  At this point, Joe Argozy, who is also in our Spanish class, walks past.  

“Now, you may not know this about Joe,” says Robert, “but he has secret codes in his hair.”

“That's the dumbest thing I ever heard,” says Kendra. 

“No, not at all.  Here, I'll show you.  Hey, Joe,” Robert calls to him.  “Let me pull out a piece of your hair so I can show them.”  Joe gives him a dubious sideways glance, like he thinks Robert's crazy and hurries off down the hall.  However, he does walk past us several more times.  I guess he's just pacing up and down the hall, waiting for class to start.  And, every time he walks past, we all crack up loudly, which makes him even more disturbed. 

“How did you get the code into his hair?” I ask. 

“I used my compass to shoot it into his head.”  He pulls his clear flexi ruler out of his backpack and waves it around wildly, actually whacking himself in the head with it several times.  “This looks like an ordinary ruler but, when I add a special device...”

“Let's see this special device,” I challenge.

“I don't have it with me and, besides, I wasn't going to tell you about it anyway.”

“Then it's defective.”

“No, I can still use it...as a ruler.”  See what I mean?  He's so witty.  

At this point, Julia has had enough.  She doesn't like Robert at all and doesn't find him funny or witty (clearly, she has no taste) and, also, I think she's put out because we're paying attention to him and not to her.  “What I want,” she yells over to us, “is a very simple device: a gun which I can use to blow your head off because you're being so annoying.”  

“Now I call that ironic,” says Robert, almost as an aside to me, which makes me shiver up and down my spine, “since she is so much more annoying than I am.  Besides, no imagination at all.  I won't even waste my time describing all the ways you could kill someone with a gun.  Now, if you were to use a...”

“Oh my god, shut up,” shrieks Julia.  Robert ignores her and pulls out his protractor, which it broken in half.

“I suppose you're going to say that's a boomerang,” suggests Kendra.

“No, this is a broken protractor.  It can't do anything because it's broken.  Now this,” he waves a pen in our direction, “this looks like a pen, but it's not a pen.  When I write on someone with the ink...”

“It will kill them,” offers Kendra.

“No, it doesn't kill them,” Robert replies stiffly, obviously put out that someone thinks he would be so ordinary as to become predictable.  “It infects them with a disease that decreases their mental capacity.”

“How many times have you used it on yourself,” I mock.

“No.  I'm immune to it.  See, I use the chemical in the other end of the pen and then it doesn't work on me.”

“Which you're not going to tell us about.”

“Right.  You're getting the idea.”  I feel thrilled that Robert, at least sort of, thinks I'm clever.

But Kendra is losing interest and pokes Julia.  “Want to go to the mall this weekend?” she asks.  

“Can't, I have relatives coming.”

“Well, then how about you, Penelope?”

“Probably.  What do you want to do there?”  I'm slightly skeptical.

“I desperately want to see Bachelor Party.”  Oh god!  I was right to be suspicious.  This is a truly disgusting “romantic comedy” about a guy who ends up falling in love with a stripper his friends hire for his bachelor party.  It's supposed to be happily-ever-after but no one seems concerned about how the poor bride feels about getting left at the altar.  It's misery every after for her.

“I will not watch that shit.”

“Aw, come on Penelope.  I want to go really badly and no one else will go with me.”

“And neither will I.  I said no and that's final.”  Kendra looks like she wants to argue more but, at that moment, the door to the classroom opens and we all go inside and take our seats.  Kendra doesn't sit by me, so I'm spared her bargaining, at least for the moment.  But, towards the end of class, while we're supposed to be doing worksheets, I'm distracted by a loud tap on my desk.  I look up and there's Kendra, sitting backwards on the desk in front of me.

“Penelope, please.”

“Can't you see I'm trying to work?”

“Isn't there anything I can do to change your mind?”  I'm about to say no, but just then, I happen to look past Kendra and catch sight of Robert, bent over his worksheet on the other side of the room.

“Actually, yes, there is something...”  Kendra follows my gaze and her face falls.

“Oh, no.  Not that.  Pick something else.”

I shrug.  “Guess, you'll be going alone then.  What's the big deal anyway?  I thought you guys were friends.”  Kendra dithers for a few more minutes, then gets stiffly to her feet.  

“Fine, you win,” she snaps.  “At least, maybe I can convince him to bring Sven along.”  She stomps off in Robert's direction and I cross my fingers and pray.

** end of Ch1 part 2. Go to Part 3**

Copyright: Amanda Hamlin

Not to be used by A.I. without permission of the author or artist

Cover art by Eric Hamlin

To view his portfolio, go to: https://www.instagram.com/hamlin.eric/

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Also read “Deliverance from the Eye” a short story by Amanda Hamlin, free at https://amandahamlin.stck.me

“Ravenlord,” a short story from the point of view of a woman should be read by all men, is also available at https://amandahamlin.stck.mFor non-fiction by this author go to URL:  https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Amanda-Hamlin

11/5/23