Episode Seven: Death Glares and Democracy
Zorah Shepard, Timothy Jorgensen, Garren Anderson, and Constance Lawson could not be more different. If I did not know better, I might even say that fate was unkind to them when they each drew those fateful Group Two paper slips out of Mrs. McDermott's whimsical hat. But I do know better. I know that despite their differences and even at times their animosity, they drew those pieces of paper on that fateful day for a very particular reason.
Percival:For although they may not see it now, a day will come when they look back upon this project and reflect on something that changed their lives forever. On something, may I dare say, that might indeed change the entire world forever. But the time for those musings shall come later. Now they must find a way to overcome their sizable differences and select a topic for their project. Though they may not yet realize it, forces greater than they could possibly imagine are watching and waiting.
Percival:Episode Seven, Death Glares and Democracy.
Zorah:Never have I seen Constance's face twist and wriggle in such horror before. If this were a movie, I'd swear on my life that they used CGI to exaggerate her facial expression. Garren leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, smiling up at the ceiling with an amused smirk. A loud thud rocked the table as Constance kicked Garren's chair, throwing him off balance. He narrowly avoided falling to the ground by swinging his arms forward wildly and somehow regaining his balance.
Zorah:Probably a drill they do at baseball practice. Garren no longer seemed amused.
Garren:Constance, what gives?
Zorah:He spat out at her.
Constance:There is no time for fooling around, Garren.
Zorah:She shot back.
Constance:Our group is full now, just like you both wanted. So now we need to lay out our Rules and Responsibilities.
Zorah:Constance handed out her already revised manifestos. Garren grabbed his roughly and left it in a big crumpled ball in the middle of his desk. This time, Constance's lips could crack a whole jawbreaker.
Timmy:I thought that maybe...
Zorah:Timmy said timidly, staring straight at the floor. Constance and Garren didn't turn their attention to Timmy even the tiniest bit. He stopped holding the bag of glowy goop in front of them and let his hand sink to his side. He started rocking back and forth and humming.
Constance:Garren, you might not care about your grades, but I do.
Zorah:Constance said with rising frustration.
Constance:We need to take this seriously. This isn't some stupid baseball game.
Garren:Excuse me? Some stupid baseball game?
Zorah:Garren rubbed his hands down his face.
Garren:You need to seriously chill out. I do care about my grades. I'm sure Zorah and Timmy do too. Why do you always have to be such a control freak?
Zorah:Constance grimaced like someone put a frog in her fruit punch.
Constance:A control freak? Well, I am so sorry that I am trying to make sure our group functions like an actual team. Oh, and just to be clear, yes, like a real team, not a baseball team.
Zorah:Now, Garren was starting to look like someone had put a frog in his fruit punch too. I drew in a huge, oh no, she didn't breath way too loudly. I immediately slapped my right hand over my mouth before I said anything stupid and made things worse. Right on cue, I let out a huge sneeze as a clump of glitter from my hand shot straight into my nose. I smiled sheepishly, wishing I could crawl into a deep, dark cave and never return.
Zorah:Sorry. I mouthed the word breathlessly. I made the same face that our dog Rex gets when Mom catches him stealing cookies out of the kitchen. Shame. Pure shame.
Zorah:Garren took a deep breath letting his shoulders rise and fall dramatically.
Garren:Constance, listen to me very closely. I really don't want to fight with you. No one here wants to fight with you. But if you think we're just gonna let you take complete control over everything just because you think you're smarter than the rest of us.
Zorah:Constance raised her eyebrow so high, it nearly fell off her face. Garren looked her straight in the eyes.
Garren:Then you can just dream on.
Zorah:Silence. If this were an old western movie, a tumbleweed would have blown through the middle of the classroom. The wheels of Gary the Janitor's mop bucket squeaked out in the hall. At that point, I expected Constance to have a full blown nuclear bomb level meltdown. Instead, Timmy snapped out of his trance and brightened up like he had just gotten a new puppy on Christmas morning.
Timmy:Yes. Exactly, Garren.
Zorah:Timmy finally plopped down in his seat. The bag of gloop in his hands sloshed around dangerously. Garren turned his attention from Constance to Timmy.
Garren:What did I say?
Timmy:The very most perfect idea for our project.
Zorah:The rest of us at the table wore matching confused expressions.
Constance:Well,
Zorah:Constance blurted out.
Constance:Care to explain to the rest of us what this supposed perfect idea is?
Timmy:Of course, Constance. Thank you for asking. I knew that someone else would find this important.
Zorah:Timmy finally looked up and smiled at Constance. Constance didn't know what to do with kindness when she was throwing out weapons grade sarcasm.
Timmy:Dreams.
Zorah:Timmy said with a sparkle in his eyes.
Timmy:That is what it is all about.
Zorah:Another tumbleweed blew through the classroom.
Constance:Okay then, how about...
Zorah:Constance, desperate to change the subject, took a long moment to flip to a different page in her binder.
Constance:Let's put dreams in the, maybe category. Does anyone else have any suggestions?
Zorah:I opened my mouth to offer my totally amazing cake idea when I was cut off by a freight train.
Constance:Here is my vision for this project,
Zorah:Constance began.
Constance:My dad works for a big bank. He is always teaching me about fiduciary responsibility. So our project will be about financial literacy. But for seventh graders, you can never start integrating sound financial strategies soon enough. Dad always says.
Garren:Fi-dooshi-what?
Zorah:Garren groaned.
Timmy:Fiduciary responsibility.
Zorah:Timmy chimed in.
Timmy:It is a legal and ethical obligation to act in the best financial interests of another person or entity.
Garren:And you just, like, knew that.
Zorah:Garren responded.
Timmy:I read about it on google dot com.
Garren:Right.
Zorah:Garren shot me a look that felt somewhere between disbelief and, well, actually just disbelief.
Constance:Timmy is...
Zorah:Constance struggled to find words, which was a welcome change.
Constance:He's correct. Dad says, the sooner the next generation begins to demonstrate sound financial practices, the sooner our economy can truly flourish.
Zorah:I couldn't take this anymore. Constance, it's great that your dad is some kind of money genius or whatever. But do you really think that we should be working on a project that half of the group doesn't even understand the definition of? Isn't this supposed to be about something that inspires us? I said, waving my hands at a Mrs. McD style jazz hands flourish.
Zorah:Constance simply wouldn't be thrown off course.
Constance:Well, Zorah, if you don't make the time to learn about money management principles now, then...
Garren:Yeah. I don't really feel inspired by that,
Zorah:said Garren.
Garren:I actually think I'd prefer to do the project on dreams.
Zorah:He threw his hands up in the air and let them come to rest atop his head. I thought back to that morning. There was the Baru Nut incident, not to mention the cashews, peanuts, and pecans before that. My dreams had been totally weird the last few days. Now, Timmy Jorgensen was coming in hot with Dream Project vibes and glowy goop baggies?
Zorah:Maybe this wasn't the worst idea ever? Maybe, if nothing else, this would help the last few days dreams and my morning bedhead nut-tastrophes make a bit of sense. I made a choice in the moment, and I hoped it wouldn't backfire. But even if it did, at least it would also really, really tick off Constance. Perfect.
Zorah:Alright, Group Two. Everyone who wants to do our project about dreams, raise your hands. Timmy's hand almost hit the ceiling as he jumped up. The gloop baggie jiggled like a pouch of radioactive Jell-o. Garren took a long look over at Constance, currently choking on my audacity, and slowly raised his hand while never taking his eyes off hers.
Zorah:Only I was left. Constance leaned forward with her patented death glare stare. I simply shrugged my shoulders as my hands went into the air with the others. That's three out of four, I declared. I pointed to Constance's binder, specifically at the Student Responsibility and Behavior Guidelines packet.
Zorah:Majority rules. Isn't that right? Constance's lips were pressed together so hard, I was surprised her teeth didn't shatter. Blissfully unaware of the ticking Constance time bomb right next to him, Timmy rummaged through his bag and pulled out a giant book. The cover read Volume Seven, and it looked like it belonged in a museum that housed ancient artifacts instead of a seventh grader's backpack.
Zorah:At this point, I was fully committed to the crazy train that was the Dream Team, so I figured, why not dive in head first? Hey, what's that, Timmy? I asked him. He straightened the book out in front of him and glanced at me with a deadly serious look in his eyes.
Timmy:This is my Dream Archive. I started keeping them when I was six years old. That was Volume One. This is Volume Seven.
Zorah:He spoke as though it was a totally normal thing for anyone to say. Timmy opened his sacred tome to a page about halfway through. There was a bunch of writing, some scribbled notes in the side margins, and a few colorful illustrations. Was that a rainbow jellyfish? I giggled.
Zorah:Yeah. This was going to be about as bonkers as I had imagined. Once Constance snapped out of her temporary panic coma, she blinked twice, grabbed her binder, and stamped off without a word to any of us. She tapped Mrs. McD on the shoulder and said something frantically that I couldn't quite hear, but I had a solid idea of what it was about. Before Mrs. McD could respond, Constance hurried out of the room and let the door slam shut behind her.
Zorah:Garren and I shrugged at one another.
Timmy:This project comes at the perfect time.
Zorah:Timmy said to no one in particular.
Timmy:The dream realm has been acting really weird lately.
Zorah:He was studying a page in the book like it had the code to disarm a bomb.
Garren:Really weird, huh?
Zorah:Garren said, glancing at the Dream Archive before looking at me. His eyes were practically screaming, is this kid serious right now?
Timmy:Yes, Garren, really weird.
Zorah:Timmy repeated completely unfazed. I gotta be honest, I was kinda interested in what Timmy was about to say. First off, this was entertainment at its finest. Even more importantly, I'd become weirdly convinced that Timmy Jorgensen, of all people, was about to explain to me why I'd woken up with a hair full of trail mix all week long. Then something funny happened.
Zorah:Not funny like "hah hah" what a good joke. More like life as I know it is over all because of nuts funny. As I sat there watching Timmy frantically search through who knows what in his book of magical dream spells, I rested my head in the palm of my hand. Then I heard it. I knew exactly what happened before even looking down.
Zorah:One long brown baru nut had just jarred loose from its tangle prison and fallen onto my desk with a soft plink sound. Thank my lucky stars, Garren wasn't paying attention. He was staring over at Siobhan's group next to us. I overheard her arguing with Greg about why a project based on Why Candy Is Better Than Broccoli would be a terrible idea. Poor Siobhan.
Zorah:She was having a rough morning. But nowhere near as rough as mine. Paralyzed with embarrassment, I tried to make my mouth say words. My mouth didn't want to cooperate, So instead it just made an "aaaaahhhhhhh" sound like I was getting checked for strep throat at the doctor's office. Timmy stared wide eyed at the baru nut like he just discovered a long lost hidden treasure and his mouth dropped open.
Zorah:He gently picked it up and held it in front of his eyes, examining it like a precious jewel. Then he reached into his backpack and pulled out another plastic baggie. Oh, please. Not more gloop, I thought. But no.
Zorah:This was even weirder than the gloop. Inside the plastic bag was another baru nut. Now, Timmy had a baru nut? Okay. Time to officially declare a state of Nutpocalypse.
Zorah:I had no idea whatsoever how to react. By that point, Garren had lost interest in spying on Group One, so he shifted back over towards the group.
Garren:You guys are never gonna believe...
Zorah:He trailed off.
Garren:Oh, hey, what's this? Did Mrs. McD hand out snacks without me noticing?
Timmy:Not snacks, Garren, clues,
Zorah:Timmy said. I gave Garren a weak little smile with a half shoulder shrug.
Timmy:Zorah,
Zorah:Timmy continued.
Timmy:These are Baru nuts. Did you know that they come from Brazil? I researched them on google dot com.
Zorah:Yeah, I Googled them earlier too. Garren smiled that kind of smile that you make when you don't know what else to do.
Garren:I knew our group was gonna be sort of nuts, you know, but this, oh, this is on a whole new level.
Timmy:I agree, Garren. I was not expecting Hushglow's clue to lead me to an answer this fast. This must be super important.
Zorah:Timmy held the two baru nuts in his hand, comparing them to each other into a drawing he had in Wait, even his book had Baru Nuts? Hold on a second. Did he just say Hushglow? Is that even a word? We didn't have to wait long to find out.
Timmy:Zorah,
Zorah:Timmy asked eyes wide.
Timmy:Does Hushglow visit you in your dreams too?
Zorah:No. What was he trying to ask me?
Timmy:Then how did you get this Baru nut? Wait, let me guess. Hold on one second, I must consult the Archive.
Zorah:Garren and I shared another look, this time fully freaked out.
Timmy:I'm gonna take a guess, Zorah, and you tell me if I am right, okay?
Zorah:Numb from shock, I blankly nodded my head. I felt like someone had paused my eyelids mid blink and forgotten to hit play again.
Timmy:You found this baru nut in your hair when you woke up today, didn't you?
Zorah:I instinctively put my hands in my hair and desperately tried to work out a few of the tangles.
Garren:Wait, hang on a sec, Timmy. Who is Hushglow?
Zorah:Garren blurted out.
Timmy:I guess that answers one of my big questions,
Zorah:Timmy said, scribbling something into the margins of a page in his book.
Timmy:Hushglow only visits me in dreams then. But don't you have a very best friend from your dreams too?
Zorah:Garren ignored the question.
Garren:So Hushglow is your best friend?
Zorah:Garren asked. Timmy nodded.
Garren:And he visits you in your dreams?
Zorah:Timmy nodded twice.
Garren:And he gives you nuts?
Timmy:Yes, but not every night. Just this one time.
Garren:Okay then. Got it. I think.
Zorah:After a brief little thought spiral, I was back on track. Guys? I said. Garren and Timmy both looked at me intently. I actually did find that nut in my hair this morning, I admitted.
Zorah:Garren's mouth dropped. Timmy's face lifted. Constance slipped back into her seat and sat firmly at her desk, startling the daylights out of me. Her eyes were red and puffy and she patted at her nose with a Kleenex trying not to sniffle. Well, she said, dabbing her nose with the tissue.
Constance:If we're going to be doing our project on something as random and silly as dreams, we had better at least make sure we do it right.
Zorah:A terrible pit formed in my stomach. She looked like she'd been crying. Maybe we had been too hard on her. Garren spoke first much to my surprise.
Garren:Hey, Constance. Uh, you didn't, um, find any weird things in your hair this morning, did you? Like, I don't know, nuts or something?
Zorah:Constance stared at him and then looked at Timmy and I who were waiting with great anticipation for her answer. Her face twisted into confusion.
Constance:Look, I said we can do the Dream Project, okay? Will you please at least look at my Group Member Responsibility printouts now? Someone must steer this ship towards a good grade after all.
Zorah:Timmy happily reached out to grab a copy. Garren and I shared a quick glance. Resigned to our fate, we each took a copy. Sometimes you have to go along to get along, I suppose.
Percival:Though it may only be ever so slightly, the children have now begun to peek behind the curtain into the realm of the unknown. Zorah was already utterly perplexed by the arrival of glitter bombs and handfuls of nuts in her morning bedhead this past week. But now she discovered that it had happened to Timothy as well. And they just so happened to be grouped together for a project that they have now decided to center on dreams? This was all too weird, too bizarre, too impossible.
Percival:Maybe this was all just one big dream. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the beginning of something more, much more.
Announcer:Thank you for listening. If you'd like to support the show and help bring the story to life, please consider joining us on Patreon at patreon.com/epicbedheadsaga. Patrons receive episodes one week early and exclusive behind the scenes content.
Announcer:You can also find us at epicbedheadsaga.com and on Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook. And if you're enjoying the show, please follow us on your podcast app of choice. It helps more than you know. The Epic Bedhead Saga is written, produced, and directed by Tyler Michael Jonsson. Episode seven features Tyler Michael Jonsson as Percival, Garren, and Timmy, Tiffany Ward as Zorah, and Erin Culpepper as Constance.
Announcer:This episode was made possible with the support of our Dreamtender tier patrons, Nancy and Grant Jonsson. We'll see you next time. Until then, keep dreaming.
