Elementary Vomit

Photo credit here.

At the end of the hallway on the 1^st – 3^rd grade halls the blue industrial carpet fanned out into an amphitheater of stairs where we all sat while awaiting the morning bell to ring. I was in 3^rd grade and soon to graduate to the building next door, and the architecture of the building indicated the rising grades. My classroom sat atop the stairs with the other 2 classes of third graders – a literal rising of the grade from 2^nd to 3^rd and then a parallel transfer over to the 4^th - 6^th grade halls.

At recess, we gathered outside the classrooms, being told to sit Indian-style on the floor (There were not the sensibilities then that exist today.) until the clock indicated we could go outside. We sat as 3^rd graders do, compliantly at first and then with increased restlessness until the teachers reminded us to be quiet if we wanted to go outside. 

 

Then IT happened. A classmate sat up and made a dash to the bathroom, but could not quite make it. Bleh – the guy stood there, stunned, until the next wave of retching overtook him. The teachers, sensing the urgency of the situation, rushed over, sweeping him to the toilets, his noises echoing against the ceramic tile. 

 

Within moments, the smell filled the circle – above, around, below – and other classmates began running in turn. Most of them had more of a warning, by this age knowing if another’s vomit produced vomit within themselves. The scene continued while the other teachers, some what anxious about how many more would fall prey to the scent, ushered us back to our classrooms.