Saturday's Storyteller: "The fire alarm was screaming like..."
by Belinda Roddie The fire alarm was screaming like a banshee, and its howl was enough to make Helen squirm in her desk before standing up with the rest of her class. Most likely the clumsy assistant principal had burned a batch of popcorn again in the microwave, and the entire school would have to wait for at least twenty minutes before everything was deemed all clear. Then the fire alarm, being sensitive, would go off again, and the delay of twenty minutes would turn to forty, and at that point, well, forget education and learning, everyone may as well lose interest in all things scholastic now. As the rest of the freshmen from English Honors filed out of the classroom, Helen could not help noticing the lanky frame of her cousin, Jessie, skipping toward the bushes with squeaking, sliding converses. Jessie was a junior, and fairly rebellious in her own right, knowing when to take advantage of frustrating situations. Knowing already that the school was in no danger of fire or arson