Julius Cheeser

I taught English in a basement room with an outside door. The old school offered a variety of doors for mice to enter, so this country girl prepared my room with numerous sticky traps.

After several weeks of slaying mice, I no longer felt squeamish or jumpy around the nasty little devils. Every morning, I checked the traps as soon as I entered the classroom, so there wouldn't be any surprises during class. One mouse ruined this plan.

Outside was growing colder as winter approached in Nebraska, and critters desperately sought a warm winter home. I started the day by checking my traps, welcoming their emptiness with a smile. I prepared my supplies for class and started my day.

The day ran smoothly without any surprises as I sailed into the last period. The large class of thirty-three charged into the room and took their seats. The lesson proceeded effectually until a small, gray mouse stumbled down the center aisle. It had pulled itself from a sticky trap and struggled to keep its footing. Chaos ensued as students screamed while jumping onto their chairs. I was too old for this shit!

I grabbed a garbage can and plodded toward the mouse. I plunked the garbage can on top of the mouse, and then smirkingly glanced at my students. Next, I walked over to grab a sticky trap. I lifted a corner of the can and kicked the sticky trap into the makeshift mouse cave. Certainly the delirious mouse would plunk itself back onto the trap.

My lesson continued even though several students stared at the "elephant in the room". When the bell signaled the end of the day, teenagers carefully stepped around the can and spilled into the hallway. I could hear them laughing and shrieking their way down the hall. I imagined several would be telling the mouse story to anyone who would listen.

The dread of lifting off the can turned me into a wimp. I called the custodians and asked if one of them could assist me with a mouse issue in room 027. Nick showed up within minutes. I pointed toward the can while relating the story. He chuckled and sauntered up to the can.

Under the can sprawled a dead mouse stuck on a trap. I felt kind of bad for the little fella but was none the less relieved. Nick tossed the trap and mouse into the garbage sack and disposed of it outside.

A student approached me the following day to ask about the mouse. I disclosed the final scene. She shook her head sadly and walked away. I thought nothing of it as I continued teaching.

Final period arrived and all were interested in the conclusion to yesterday's drama. The young lady from earlier in the day presented me with a handmade certificate honoring the brave death of Julius Cheeser.

I lovingly posted the certificate on a prominent wall where it stayed for the remainder of the year.