Oswald Tove // D9M (cbd3)

This kid…

Mrs. Priscilla rubbed her temples as she stared down at the test. No answers. Only…doodles of some oval creature with a round face and a square hat and gloves. Not really doing anything, just staring at you. By fortune alone, the kid remembered to write his name on his test: Oswald “Oz” “Ozmosis” “Ozzie” Tove. Awful handwriting…Looked like a small child had written it.

Mrs. Priscilla tried not to judge her students. But she couldn’t help herself when it came to Oswald. He never paid attention to her lessons, always stared blankly at her whenever she called on him, always passing notes to his friends in class…And then his friends would start sniggering at some lumpy cartoon character scribbled across the note. Even when Mrs. Priscilla would reprimand him, he would grin with this coy pride glinting in his eye – which eventually died as it slowly dawned on him he was in trouble. Again. To his credit, after the initial discomfort, he would try to apologize.

Once, in some haphazard attempt to bond with him, Mrs. Priscilla asked him why he liked to draw so much. For the first time since she had met the kid, his face lit up. “They’re funny!” he declared. Then he became sheepish, in an eager sort of way. “Do…do you want me to draw you one?”

Then he drew a cartoon of an apple-shaped teacher, smiling and handing out an A plus. She still has it taped to her filing cabinet. She still smiles when she looks at it.

He’s a nice kid. Just an idiot.

But this test…Mrs. Priscilla stared at the doodles scattered across Oswald’s test, rubbing her temples. This. Was. Not. Funny. 

His parents would have to hear about this.