The Case of Missing Desks by Thomas

“Uh… that’s a slight problem,” Carl mumbles to himself as he stares at his desk. Or, at least, the blank space where his desk used to be. It’s the same for every other person – their desks are missing as well. Left with nothing but four light-coloured circles from where the desks’ feet used to be. As he’s heard, it’s the same with every other classroom (and room in general) except for one: the teachers’ lounge. But they insist that they ordered and got a couple of desks sent to them yesterday, that being Tuesday. Today is Wednesday, only one day after, and they don’t have any other proof that they didn’t steal them.

“But, class, let’s face it: why would we steal them? You have nothing to work on now. And your parents would get very mad at us if we did steal them.” His teacher, Mrs. Ashresign, mumbled the last part, but he heard it. He heard more than that, though. He heard the desks being moved. Where and why, he didn’t know. But he knew how.

It had been last night and, since he lived next to the school, he heard basically everything that happened there, day in and day out. He also heard the voices of what sounded like two men and two women, but he could’ve gotten it wrong. He was very tired during that time, after all. Maybe it had been robbers, or pedestrians, or just the teachers working after hours. Maybe they didn’t even steal the desks, but someone did.

“Um… so what do we do now? Like, how do we learn?” one of the kids speaks up. The teacher responds, “We’re going to be using a clipboard for the meanwhile.” Mrs. Ashresign gestures towards the stack of clipboards. “So, class, go grab a clipboard and work on the decimal division project while me and the other staff members try to figure out what to do.” Her face flashes a look of concern and worry before it quickly switches back to unreadable. From this, Carl can tell they don’t know what’s going on and know as much as the students. Except maybe Carl, but he only knows a minor detail. He walks towards the stack of clipboards, grabbing a green one. Green… green… that’s what the people were wearing. A dark, sort of mossy green, similar to a camouflage suit. He had seen them outside his room when he turned on his light to get a better view. He had forgotten about all of this until he saw the colour green… what else had he forgotten? A feeling of dread fills him and he tries to shake the feeling away, but to no avail.

He tries to remember the things he had forgotten about the people. Two men… two women… no, two women and one man. He just kept on changing his voice to a silly tone, trying to make the other two laugh. He grabs his laptop and goes on the classroom application. What else… one of the women looked similar to Mrs. Ashresign, but something was different. He couldn’t make it out, but he just knew it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. If it was any of the teachers, it was the principal, but that’s more bias-related than anything else.

Carl sighs in defeat and annoyance as he sees the question he got stuck on last time. But there’s something more important than this, he thinks. Way more important. What else has he forgotten… the man had a beard and either pitch-black or dark brown hair. He couldn’t tell from that far away. Far away… distance. Distance mattered. They were very close to the school, only about five metres from the gate. That’s when he remembered… it was the school security gang. The three people, one man and two women, who guarded the school at night. The least-likely people to steal desks, and definitely not that many, since it was about two hundred. One step forward, he thought, one step back. He’s back at square one, not that anyone had passed that stage yet. He groans, looking back at the question, now that he knows he can’t make a difference in this mystery.