It was Mr. Brown's first day with his new fifth grade class. Just another year, with just another batch of normal ten year old kids. Time for roll call. Just like all the other twenty-seven years he had taught the same grade. Some of the kids here were probably the children of the kids he had taught so many years ago. Maybe he should be retiring soon. Oh well, time for roll call. Couldn't start wandering off, now, especially on his first day of the new year. Not that it would be any different from any other year. Mm? Yes, roll call. He picked up the list.
“Ames, Thomas” “Here”
“Bates, Henry” “Present”
“Elsy, Jane” “Present”
“Frederick, Emily” “Here”
And so on, and so on… The teacher kept straight on, getting the same two answers, until, after, “Hollyoake, Esmerelda” “Ezzie for short!” bounced a girl in the second row of desks. There was really no other word for it, the teacher had to realize, she bounced her unusual reply. As Mr. Brown peered at her, he noticed that this girl with the thick, long black hair and the brightly colored dress was sitting alone. Odd. Well, time for “Hart, James” and “Jones, Martha”. Both present and accounted for. He finished the list without further ado. Eighteen children. Not so bad. At the end of the day, the teacher told the children that the next day they would go on a mushroom hunt, to see how many different kinds they could find. He smiled benignly, if tiredly, and was about to dismiss class. However, there was a hand in the air.
“Yes, Esmerelda?” “But, it's August, Mr. Brown, hot weather, and there can't be any mushrooms. What are we to find?” “We will hunt for mushrooms, my dear,” the teacher answered, “and, as you have pointed out, there are not normally many at this time of year, this will be a special test for your observational skills. Did I tell you that whoever can find the most mushrooms will receive a prize?”
All the students were unerringly on time the next morning except Esmerelda. She was precisely two minutes, forty-three seconds, twenty-two milliseconds late. After seeing that all had arrived, Mr. Brown led his class outside. The first fifteen minutes of the mushroom hunt passed without event as he gave the students a pre-formulated precautionary lecture on the dangers of eating any fungi they found and then shepherded them along a path towards some well-groomed woodlands. Soon, though, Esmerelda glanced around, knelt down by the base of a tree, fumbled with something, and called,
“Mr. Brown, I've found a mushroom, and it's a real beauty!”
The teacher hurried over, followed by a large part of the rest of the class. He peered closely at it, took of his glasses, peered again, coughed, and said,
“My dear, I'm afraid that isn't a real mushroom. It seems to be made of wood – perhaps some picnickers left it here.” Esmerelda looked closer, “Why, you're right! It is wood. How funny that I I didn't see that.” Mr. Brown told Esmerelda that she might take it and keep it, as she had found it and no one else seemed likely to come back for it.
Seven minutes later, Esmerelda glanced, knelt, and discovered another mushroom. When Mr. Brown came to see, he pronounced it to be metal, “Probably tin”. Esmerelda was again bewildered at her own lack of perception.
The next mushroom was also found by Esmerelda, though this one was decided to be some sort of plastic. The teacher remonstrated his student gently to carefully examine any mushroom before calling him.
After that came another wood one, cunningly painted to resemble the most poisonous mushroom Mr. Brown had ever seen.
Five minutes after that, Esmeralda again glanced, knelt, and pushed aside the leaf duff. She started to take something out of her bag, but gasped as she looked down and hastily closed the bag. It was a mushroom! It was large, bright yellow, covered in purple spots, and as real as any fungus anyone had ever seen.
“Teacher! I found a mushroom! It's bright yellow, and it has purple spots all over!”
As Mr. Brown didn't immediately come over, Esmerelda ran over to him. “It's real, Mr. Brown, really and truly! Real, and and big, and yellow, and covered all over in purple spots! I bet you haven't ever seen a mushroom as yellow and purple as this one, nor as big!”
“No, I probably haven't, Esmerelda,” the teacher wearily replied, “If it really is as yellow and purple as you say it may not be real. Paul here says he has just found a shelf fungus and I would like the whole class to come and see.”
Paul had indeed found a shelf fungus, though the real marvel was that he had managed to spot one so small and colorless. After glancing at it, Esmerelda ran off toward the mushroom she had found. She felt it, and smelt it, and touched it, and did everything short of tasting it or digging it up. It was indeed real. She went back over to the teacher and tried again to make him come look at it. However, he would not go. Instead, he consulted his watch, found that the class was four minutes and seventeen seconds late in heading back, and told all the students to follow him back.
After he had told the students all about mushrooms with many colored photos and diagrams (all of the best quality) back at the school and later dismissed them, Mr. Brown sank down in a chair. He really was tired. Maybe he shouldn't have waited another year to retire after all. Especially since it seemed this year might not be quite as normal as all the preceding twenty-seven. He tried not to think about that. Ah well, hopefully it could all be solved by simply getting the girl a pair of glasses. Hopefully. He would have to send a note to her parents asking them to get her eyes examined.
