May, A Month of MADAM Mayhem 1 ! ! !

Saturday May 3rd 7:30 am:
A semi tractor-trailer rolls into Gruberville and unloads a museum (though parts looked like they belonged in a mausoleum) load of things into the only mansion in town. The manor sat at the end of Daniel Street. Named for the son of Clem Gruber, the founder of our great little town. This huge house was once a brothel, but only a few of the ole’ timers even remember those days. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper pulled up in their Rolls Royce along with Rochester and Rudolf their Romanian Hairless Prize Winning Cats. To follow, the day after, would be their only child Suzanne. She was twelve going on twenty-one. At least that’s what her attitude reflected. According to her diary she was pretty sure that if she put her mind to it she could snap you in half with just a look. Oh. God bless Gruberville, because a pre-teen form of wickedness has come to town.

Monday May 5th 1:30 pm:
Mrs. Cooper, after a late night on the phone to tell all her friends about this tiny town, awoke around noon to realize she had no time to ready herself for public and decided to send their Butler/Driver Sampson over to the school with the paperwork needed to have Suzanne registered for school. How Motherly of her! “Oh Sampson!” she called with her drawn out, sadly simulated, southern accent.

Tuesday May 6th 8:00 am:
Mr. Cooper and Suzanne (she preferred Suzanne over Sue, or Suzy) walked from the now illegally parked Rolls, to the main office of Gruberville Middle School. “Good Morning! Can I help you:?” asked Miss Johnson the school secretary. Mr. Cooper began “My names is Mr. Cooper, and this is my daugh…..” interrupting Suzanne spews out “I can tell her myself Daddy!” Looking back at Miss Johnson “My name is Suzanne Cooper. I’m twelve years old, and will be attending Mrs. Stintenhutts class. So if you would be so kind as to direct me to my classroom, my father and I will be on our way out of this tiny room you call an office.” Miss Johnson, having worked for an upper class private school for 5 years, just ground her teeth a bit behind her slowly fading smile (wishing she could shove a bar of soap into the teeth of this snot nosed brat and maybe wash away her attitude.), looked at Mr. Cooper and said “Sir, your daughters class is down the hall, turn right at the intersection, and is the third door on the left.” Mr. Cooper smiled kind of apologetically, and said thank you. It wasn’t he who had brought the young child into the highest level of SNOB. That was Mrs. Cooper and her twin sister Clair. Anyway, Miss Johnson heard little Suzanne say “Isn’t it quaint Daddy? She things that she needs to point, to give directions. Polite must not be in her vocabulary.” It was all Miss Johnson could do to keep her hand from grabbing the principles paddle and then jumping over the counter to apply the board of education to the seat of knowledge. Mr. Cooper placed his hand on the small of Suzanne’s back and gently guided her out into the hall.

Suzanne opened the door, walked right in and up to the teachers desk, and interrupted the lesson and announced the who, what, when, and where of her existence. Speaking quickly and enunciating nearly every word, she left nothing but the skeleton in the family closet out. The skeleton was actually from a Professorship, that Mr. Cooper held at a prestigious college. For a moment there, but only a moment, Suzanne (as always) thought that she was in total control of everything and everyone. She had a way about her that seemed to command sometimes. Well, that’s what she thought. The other kids in the class were silent and sat thinking that she was just a spoiled rotten brat, that needed placed over someones knee to have that educational knowledge implanted. Mrs. Stintenhutt promptly stepped from the chalkboard over next to Suzanne and said “Are you are quite finished young lady?” “Yes I am.” was the reply. “They you can walk yourself out of my class room, quietly closing the door behind you. You will then stand out in the hallway for 5 minutes giving thought to how incredibly rude you just were disrupting my class and stealing time from myself and my students with your nonsense. Then you may Knock on my classroom door, and wait for me to either open it or grant you permission to come in. Am I being understood Miss Cooper?” Shocked and amazed at Mrs. Stintenhutt’s remarks, poise, and articulation, a now trimmed down attitude answered “Yes Ma’am.” It was pretty much the only record of someone truly putting lil miss Suzanne in her proper place of humility at school. She eventually would have most of the faculty wrapped around her little finger with the potential of Daddy making donations to the school.

And May, continues…
Henry