USUALLY, DETENTION WASN'T so bad. I figured I could waste a couple of hours doing homework. Or I could blow that off and sit and draw band logos and write new lyrics in my special notebook.
But detention with Knacke was different. He actually made you work. And he only had one kid at a time.
My job was to clean out the Marlboro Man's disgusting lungs. Soap suds. A wire brush. A sink full of black gunk.
I held the tubes up to the light, one at a time.
"Not clean enough. Not by a long shot," Knacke said, glaring at the tubes.
Alone with him, I got a solid whiff of his smell. Even with the cigarette goo and the nasty soap, I could smell the stinking essence. It wasn't pit stink, though sometimes his shirts got pretty dark under the arms. It wasn't unwashed clothes. Or liquor, like Mr. Bittmeyer. Or cheap deodorant, like every football player there ever was.
No, it was more like a dead animal. That's the closest thing to his stench. Something that had been dead for a while.
"I've been looking forward to this little time together," he said, leaning in close. Grabbing one of the tubes, he gave it a good rinse. He nodded, and I went on to the next one.
"We're well aware of your friendship with Relly."
My hands went kind of dead. I watched the water run out of the faucet. I listened to the millions of little soap bubbles popping.
"He's not like the other students here, is he?" His voice changed, like somebody else was talking through his mouth. "Nor are you. That's quite plain to see. We know everything there is to know about you."
Maybe I should've just run out. No doubt about it, I'd be in even worse trouble. I thought real hard about it, picturing myself tearing down the hall with Knacke behind yelling.
But no, I just sat there and waited.
Knacke watched me, waiting for my reaction. When I said nothing, and did nothing, he smiled his big shiny bogus grin. "Since I've been back, I've had my eye on the two of you. And before then too."
I kept my mouth closed. He was toying with me, trying to get me to squirm. I just stood there, waiting.
"You're not like the others. That's quite apparent."
Still I kept silent, like I was a good soldier getting tortured but telling no secrets.
He shrugged after a while, as if I was making him sad. "Perhaps another time you'll want to talk more. We have so much to discuss." Then he put back on his plastic smile. "You're excused now. I can finish up."
He took the bottle brush and I was out the door with my hands still dripping black ooze.