The next day we had a new bio teacher. Actually he was the old one, but he'd been out on sick leave since September. So the long-term sub was gone and Mr. Knacke was back.
He had that evil old-man smell, kind of sour and dry, like old coffee breath and mothballs and burning dust. He wasn't big. Still, when he came in the room, you sure knew he was there. And he wasn't ugly. Not exactly. But even at eight fifteen in the morning, his bald spot was shining bright red through his combover. And he had those little webs of white goo in the corners of his mouth.
"My name is Mr. Knacke. That's pronounced Kuh-Nack-ee. Do I make myself understood? Festus B. Knacke. Say it! All of you, say it! Now."
The whole bio class repeated his name, like we were in Marine boot camp and he was the drill sergeant.
"You!" He was talking, or I guess I should say, growling, at me. "What is your name?"
"Me?" It was kind of a shock, him picking me out of the crowd. Usually, keeping my mouth shut and my head down is safe. The nail that sticks up gets hammered flat. That's what my dad says.
"Yes, you." He put so much disgust into those two little words. "What is your name?"
I told him.
He stared at me like I was making some dumb joke. "Zee? Your name is Zee?"
"Yeah." What did he want? Should I explain it, or say I was sorry that my name was so weird? I just slunk deeper into my chair and he moved on to harass another kid.