"Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much." ~ Helen Keller 

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May's Cultural Studies teacher Mrs. Chin is not in fact of Asiatic descent, contrary to what her name would tend to imply. Rather Mrs. Chin or "Chins" is a large and heavy set Midwestern farm girl type. Who I can only assume took her husband's surname, and not the moniker for her jovial jowls.

Although no one has ever admitted to actually seeing "Mr. Chins". Who not unlike May, probably didn't know any of the mysterious secrets of the Far East Movement either. Personally, I have deep suspicions that once Mr. Chin saw where the Orient Express was headed he got the hell off that crazy train ASAP.  

Leaving only his last name behind as evidence that he once had been a resident at the Golden Palace of Insantisani with Chins. Before returning to his ancestral homeland of Wisconsin, where it was safe from all the insanity. Where he went to the hockey games with the rest of his Cheesehead brethren. Where he told his wild tales about his first marriage to this crazy chick in California. The one who kept insisting on"authenticity" ...whatever the hell that was?

The one thing I know about Chins for sure is that the rotund lady is a seriously psychotic Sinophile. One of those people who has immersed herself so deeply in the "mysterious" culture of her forgone husband, that she even has an odd faux effectuated foreign accent. I've even seen her around the halls a couple of times, sporting a black Bruce Lee Mao jacket, or a Tibetan sheepskin Chuba on cold days. Her dishwater blonde hair done up in a tradition queue and adorned with oversized chignon chopsticks with dangling "lucky fortune" ornaments.   

May's issues with Chins started with the "our celestial culture" thing, that Chins has pulled with May on more than one occasion. In her faux effectuated accent, Chins has made it clear she is highly doubtful that anyone with a drop of celestial blood like May, could possibly not know anything whatsoever about Celestials and Celestialisms. Chins is convinced on some level that May must be keeping the Ancient Celestial secrets of her mother's mother's twice removed motherland to herself.

Secrets like, where to get the best authentic Chow Mien in San Fall? Which is obvious to everyone with half a brain is Lee's Take Out on Main Street. Just as Sporka, and he will go on and on about just how awesome the all-you-can-eat buffet is on Mondays. 

Chins also has a horrible habit of collecting celestial ornamentation for her classroom. Like the multi-drawer herbalist apothecary cabinet that serves as her filing cabinet. I know this because May has complained about this monstrosity on more than one occasion. That the old cabinet still smells of ginseng, saffron, and "something seriously nasty" on unusually hot days. 

Then of course there is the object of my current hatred. A low style mother of pearl inlaid lacquered coffee table that Chins is passing off a book stand. That lays low and crouched on the back wall by the back door where May sits, just waiting to attack.   

Which not only do I think it's a fire hazard on some level, it's also just plain tacky. But of course, none of this knowledge will ever stop a committed Sinophile like Chins. Because of the sentimental value of a cultural bookcase from the Pier One of her people, clearly outweighs the importance of her one blind student's mental map of the classroom. Just the sight of the offending table through the window and I want to smash that table apart and leave it in pieces on Chins good fortune rug.   

The dark voices in my head are screaming at me, to grab Chins by the back of her chignon bun and slam her head into the corner of her Pier One faux celestial writing desk. Then ram the lacquered chignon hair chopsticks into her eyes until her skull makes squishy sounds and she runs out of screams. At a minimum leave her a threatening note, where it will not be missed in the piles of papers on her fake teak China Trader foldout desk. Like maybe stabbed into the drawer crack of the apothecary, with her plastic replica Ming dynasty jade letter opener? 

I am so tempted to give in to the dark voices in my head and do so many bad things in retaliation for her apathy. But instead, I take the lower of the lowest of roads in Insansitan, and I use the one "Get Out of Jail Free" card I have when it comes to May. I go snitching straight to the Sleestak Queen.

Leaving the site of the attack on May, I stalk down the long hallway, and straight into the Main Office. Right up to the front counter itself, and directly address the big buxom bleachy blonde behind the barricade.

"Hey, I need to speak with Mrs. St. Claire when she's available." I nod over to the empty throne in the back.  

"Mr. Dean, why is it that am I suddenly not surprised to see you?" I hear the approaching Sleestak hiss before I see her reptilian visage come around the corner to stare me down.

"Maybe because you're smarter than I am?" I hesitate a guess. Because I didn't even know I was coming here until two seconds ago? 

"Ah...huh?" She bobs her head up and down in acceptance for the praise of her reptilian foresight. "Well before you ask, I will emphatically tell you that I simply cannot discuss another student's medical condition with you. Most especially one that will not be wearing a cast or using crutches tomorrow when she hopefully returns to school. For what thankfully turned out to be a rather painful bone bruise and not a broken leg."

I don't even bother to hide my relief at this news. I release the long breath that I had not even known I was holding until that moment. I want to ask the Sleestak Queen so many things at once. But she has already done me a great service, and to return this favor by doing her the disservice by pushing at her in front of her subjects would be anathema.

"I completely understand the things I should not ask." I nod slowly at the Sleestak. "And on a completely unrelated note ...I thought I might tell you a mean joke I heard at lunch today."

"A mean joke?" She scowls down at me from her high perch.

"Yeah. So how did Helen Kelle'rs teachers punish her?" I pause for half a heartbeat before deadpanning the punchline. "They rearrange the furniture in her class, in order to add a fake antique coffee table at shin height right next to the door."

"That is not a funny joke, Mr. Dean." Her unblinking eyes narrow into scathing slits, and her reptilian mouth goes super tight and pinchy.

"Oh, I absolutely agree with you." I narrow back at her. "So perhaps someone who thinks like we do, might wish to explain that to Mrs. Chins? You know ...before Maybe someone breaks her neck next time on the fakery furniture?"

I take a chance and hand her over the folded piece of paper I've prepared into her claws. Her reptilian eyes never leave me and she takes the note in her talons.

"Explain this..." She hisses holding up the parchment.

"I could claim I found it outside, and am just doing a disservice by dropping it off." I shrug her down to the note. "But I think we both know that would be a lie." 

"I see..."  She hisses back, and I watch her eyes quickly scan the note, glare glance up at me, glance down the note again for a more careful reading.

Dear Chins,

Q: How do Helen Keller's teachers punish her?

A: They add more furniture next to the door when she wasn't looking.

If you laughed at this joke, then we both know you are a sadist as well as an idiot. The only way you can prove you're just a feeble-minded fool, instead of a vicious sociopath? Is to get rid of that fake ass Orient Express tea table half blocking the back door. The one you recently placed by the door for May Grimm to stumble over. Then move the rest of the furniture back exactly where it was. So that May doesn't break her neck, thanks to your incompetence and blatant disregard for her safety. And the next time you decide to "Fung Shui" your space, there will be grievous repercussions. Better luck next time.

Yours truly,

Highly Concerned Helper

"Is this true?" The mean Sleestack Queen hisses tersely up at me, after absorbing the note.

"The bone bruise that told me that had no reason to lie," I reply evenly.

"I see." She slowly taps the edge of the paper in her hand on her palm pondering the portent to my fate. 

"I should warn you, Mr. Dean. That threatening language aside, even if I take this note at face value? There are going to be many questions and possible repercussions." Her sharp raptor eyes narrow scathingly over the bifocals. "Perhaps a high degree of scrutiny involved, and perhaps your name gets mention prominently for those repercussions? Now is this going to be something that you're going to be comfortable with, Mr. Dean?"

"Better me than May." I counter and raise her a Raisinese motto. "Actions speak louder than words."

"Indeed they do." She intones with an air of finality and the note vanishes into the folds of her grandma kaftan like a magician. "Or perhaps someone has a nice quiet conversation with Mrs. Chin instead, about bad Fung Shui furniture habits." 

"I'll leave it to your discretion then," I reply evenly. "So long as May stays safe, I really don't care who gets the glory. I'm an ends justifies the means sort of helper. So whatever gets the job done, as long as it gets done."

"Yes, you do seem to be cut from that cloth. If you do not hear from me by first period tomorrow, consider the matter closed." She regally waives me away from her throne room. "I am done with you for now, Mr. Dean."

"And if I do hear from you?" I counter evenly.

"Pray that you do not, Mr. Dean." Her eyes narrow into mean little cataract slits and she waits for me to say my next stupid thing. But I show her who's stupider, because I don't say anything at all. I just turn and leave her to do her Sleestak Queen thing.

"How bad?" Miss Krystal inquires curiously.

"According to the infamous Mr. Dean, it would seem our esteemed Mrs. Chin has decided to add another piece of unauthorized furniture to her room." The Sleestak Queen scowls out. "Which in turn was the cause of the injury to May Belle Grimm's leg this morning."

The note mysteriously materializes in her hand. "And I am only quoting here ...'that fake ass Orient Express tea table half blocking the back door. The one you recently placed by the door for May to stumble over.'  Not quite sure about the description..."

"Oh, I've seen it," Krystal smirks under her bleached blonde bangs. "You can trust me, that's a sadly accurate description of that thing."

"Yes well, that remains to be seen." Tapping the note in her hand.

"Krystal, be a dear and have the boys from maintenance meet me at Mrs. Chin's classroom. I'd like to see all of this kitsch for myself." She descends from her high throne down to the little people floor. "Oh, and please tell the boys to bring their dollies and trolleys. Because I have a feeling we will be reorganizing many of Mrs. Chin's more hazardous possessions for her. Perhaps down to the theater department for the next rendition of Madame Butterfly or Miss Saigon ...whenever that may be?"

"Yes, Mrs. Saint C." Krystal chimes in pleasantly, picking up the phone and begins to gather together a storm of minions for the Sleestack Queen's new war on Chin's decor.