The Field Trip: Part III

“Mr. Vancouver, I’m scared,” Ginny says, and twirls her long blond hair.

“Crack houses are nothing to be scared of, Ginny…Billy, put that syringe down…okay, kids follow me and be careful to watch your step the floor is rotted and we don’t want any of you to end up in the basement.”

“Mr. Vancouver, it smells in here,” Amber says.

“That’s the smell of desperation, of poverty, of death.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” Amber says.

“No one cares if you like it or not, Amber. Okay, everyone now follow me.”

I walk up the rickety steps of the crack house. The windows are boarded over and the weeds that have taken over the small lawn are taller than a pit bull. I say this because when I first entered the yard a pit bull had been hiding in the weeds and lunged at me. Luckily Peter was there with the tranquilizer gun and shot the pit bull before he could harm me. The pit bull will make a wonderful specimen. I had Peter tie it down next to the pimp on the luggage rack of the bus.

I thrust the front door open and it falls off its hinges.

“Okay, everyone single file, through the front door and stop in the foyer. Don’t go wondering off,” I say, “Don’t pick up any needles or crack vials. On second thought don’t touch anything.”

“Even myself?” Billy asks.

“Especially yourself, Billy.”

“Hey what are you doing up in here?” a very gaunt man in an Addidas sweat suit asks us.

“I consult my Country Bumpkins Guide to the City. We are looking for blingers? Is that right blingers?”

“You mean crack heads?” the man asks.

“Yes, right, crack heads,” I say.

“What in thee Hell are you looking for crack heads for?” he asks. He glances nervously around at my students which have now encircled him.

“Peter, get ready with the Tranq gun. We are here fine sir to observe dwellers of the city and to take specimens back to our school lab in the country and examine them,” I say.

“Well you ain’t examinin’ nothin’ fo free and I ain’t goin nowhere with you,” he says taking a step back.

“So you are a crack head,” I say.

He frowns.

“Peter get the candy bars out of your backpack and give this man one,” I say. “It says here that junkies love sugar. Wait that might be heroin junkies…”

“Sir, all the candy bars are gone,” Peter says, fishing about in his backpack.

“Billy! Did you pound all those candy bars?” I yell.

There is a circle of chocolate around Billy’s mouth.

“Look Mr. Vancouver a balloon,” Amber says.

“Amber, don’t blow that up it isn’t a balloon…oh, that’s not good,” I say.

“What’s all over Amber’s lips?” Ginny asks.

“You are all fucked up!” the crack head yells.

“Peter, tranquilizer gun now,” I say.

Peter pulls the rifle from his backpack, screws it together and BWAP! The dart hits the crack head in the neck.

“Nice shot, Peter,” I say.

“I have to use the bathroom, Mr. Vancouver,” Ginny says.

“Not now, Amber. They’ll be plenty of time to use the bathroom when you get home.,” I say.

“Mr. Vancouver?” Peter says.

“What is it?” I ask.

“The crack head isn’t going down.”

The crack head has a dreamy look in his eyes. “Damn, what is this stuff?”

“Damn, he’s so strung out on crack that the tranquilizer hasn’t affected him. Shoot him again,” I scream.

The children are screaming, running around in circles. Billy falls down a hole in the floor.

BWAP! BWAP! BWAP!

Three more darts hit the crack head but still he doesn’t go down. He runs to a closed window and dives out into the yard and takes off.

“Quiet children, quiet,” I say.

Slowly the children calm down.

“It’s okay, it says here in my guide that crack heads or the wiliest of all city creatures and very hard to capture,” I say.

“Mr. Vancouver, it smells down here in the basement.”

“Well, Billy maybe you should have thought of that before you fell through that hole…okay, children. It looks like we won’t have a crack head specimen to take back to the lab. We’ll just have to study clay models of this species and watch New Jack City. Does anyone remember Chris Rocks’ performance in this film?”

The children don’t answer.

“Okay, I guess that was before your time. Next we’ll be going to city hall. We’re going to try to bag a politician. It says in my guide that they are the slickest of species.”

"Mr. Vancouver, I don't like politicians," Ginny says.

"Either do I, Ginny. Either do I," I say.