You know Grandfield’s always been a small place. Shoot, there were only sixteen in my graduating class. And of that bunch, only four of us were boys. I liked that; it meant I had lots of girlfriends. But that also meant Jack, and Ick, and I got put in every school play and program

Like the year, they cast us in the senior play. We weren’t seniors but, because we were boys, they cast us anyway.

We only had little bitty parts when we had to be onstage. During the rest of the rehearsals, we were supposed to wait in the auditorium. Well, one afternoon, that teacher directing took forever getting to our scenes. That’s when we remembered the First Grade class was down the hall.

I told you that school system was small! They taught all twelve grades in one building. And I don’t know if it was Ick, or Jack, or me, but one of us thought we’d wake up the first grade.

First, we snuck out the side door of the Auditorium into a school hall. I remember, there were only three doors on that hall: our side door, the one to the janitor’s closet, and the one to the first grade classroom. And we were going to open all three.

The janitor’s closet was always full. It held his brooms and mops and buckets and all the cleaning stuff a school uses. And it had those big, industrial-sized rolls of toilet paper. We each hooked two of those rolls, and we snuck down the hall to the last door. Then Jack threw open the door to the first grade, and we bowled in those rolls of toilet paper, just like we were down at the bowling alley.

We slammed the door, and ran before they could see anything but unwinding toilet paper. But from our hiding spot in the janitor’s closet, we heard plenty. First, we heard that classroom door slam open, BANG, when it hit the wall. Then we heard the tack, tack, tack, of that teacher’s high heels, making for the principal’s office. And we heard all those little first-graders behind her, tee-heeing, fit-to-bust.

Well, the second those high heels faded out, we snuck back to the Auditorium, and sat down in our seats. And we got called to enter and say our lines a few minutes later. The director was telling us where to stand on stage when the back door of the Auditorium banged open too, BANG! And in came Mr. Pryor.

Mr. Pryor held all kinds of jobs at that school. He taught shop, and drove the school bus. And he was both principal and School Superintendent. He didn’t like me too much. Anyway, he stopped what we were doing and asked if anyone had left rehearsal.

The director, she told him no one had left, but for some reason, he didn’t believe her. And he had all us boys stand up in a line. Then he questioned us, one at a time.

“Jack, did you disturb Mrs. Hillenbrand’s classroom?”

“No, Mr. Pryor.” Jack says.

“Ick Nault, did you interrupt Mrs. Hillenbrand’s First Grade?”

“No, Sir.” Ick says, looking right back at him.

Of course, I was stuck at the end of the line. And I began to get tense. So, when Mr. Prior said, ”Bob Zumwalt, did you roll Mrs. Hillenbrand’s first-grade class?” I tried to boom back my answer. But my voice broke just as I opened my mouth so ”No, Mr” came out real high, like a girl, and then ”Pryor” bullfrogged out of my chest.

Well, I turned red, and everyone started laughing. And Pryor knew I was guilty as sin. But, whatever my punishment, it wasn’t near as good as hearing that first-grade tee–hee–hee over toilet paper.