The Fortune Cookie
Fiction
Today
Jack is at school early, cooling his heels at the principal’s office. It was so early that street lights were still on, and the garbage collection crews were quickly trying to complete their job before heavy traffic started. “This is all because of that fortune cookie,” he sighed.
A week ago
The class was seated for the math class, the papers had been handed out, and everyone had their pencils and erasers out. Most kids brought chocolate bars or M&M’s, which was supposed to help the thought process. “Like bringing a knife to a gunfight,” Jack thought and took out his well-prepared lunch. It had rice with fried onions and mushrooms, chicken patties, salad with wonton strips, baked sweet potatoes, ketchup, salt, and pepper. There was a separately packaged burrito in case he was famished and some cookies for dessert. The smells wafted through the class and out the windows. Everyone noticed the scent and stared. He started by spreading the ketchup on the patties, shook some black pepper, and opened the silverware box. At this point, nobody was writing any answers, Xs and Ys. He cut the patties into exact pieces and mixed them in the rice; the trick was to place the wonton strips on top instead of mixing them in.
Sitting on the left side of the table, Emma gave up writing and sighed. Just as he was putting the first piece of chicken in his mouth, the substitute teacher said: “you can’t eat an entire lunch during the test; it is unheard of!”
“There is no rule against it,” Jack replied evenly and speared another piece of chicken.
“Box that back up right now, or I will throw you out of class!”
“But in this school, we never throw students out of class,” Jack objected reasonably.
That was when Mrs. Carol, the regular teacher, stepped in to see if there were any questions about the test. “Oh, that’s just Jack, leave him alone,” she said.
The sub sat down, crossed her hands, and scowled. Meanwhile, Jack started working on the vegetables: cherry tomatoes, cucumber slices, pepper, and baked sweet potato.
“Say, can I try a piece of the chicken?” Emma whispered a few minutes later. Jeniffer wanted some pepper, and Charlie asked for one of the burritos since it hadn’t been eaten.
“Jack?”
“Yes, Mrs. Carol,” Jack said.
“You know that wasn’t good form, right?” Carol said.
“I guess, but it was a good lunch.”
“Speaking of which, what were those baked potatoes you were having? Could you get me the recipe from your mom?”
The test ended, and everyone went out for recess. Jack picked up the cookie he found at the bottom of his lunch box. Hmm, tastes like butter with a hint of nutmeg, perhaps a subtle vanilla flavor? He was enjoying the texture when he found a small piece of paper inside. It read, “Would you rather fall into a barrel of salmon or a barrel of tuna?” Hmm, he didn’t have a good answer for that. There was one last cookie; it read, “The truth is good for the soul; an honest person sleeps well at night.” He shrugged; unfortunately, it was the last one, so he joined his friends outside.
Yesterday
Jack opened the class door quietly and stepped lightly, as if walking on eggshells, hoping he could sneak to his seat without being noticed. Mrs. Carol was facing the board, busy writing a formula. He was just sitting down on the chair, sighing with relief, when she turned around: “Jack, so nice of you to join us. Please see me after class.”
“So why were you late?”
Jack was thinking about giving some excuse about the rainy and windy weather. He lived an easy ten-minute walk from school, so the weather was a poor excuse; however, it was worth a try. Then he recalled the fortune cookie and, on an atypical whim, decided to tell the truth.
“I slept late; my alarm clock didn’t ring; that’s why I missed the start bell.”
“Well then, come in tomorrow morning at 7:00 am and sign in at the office,” Mrs. Carol handed her judgment.
“But that’s an hour before I actually start my school day!” Jack protested.
“I hope that will teach you to wake up on time,” Mrs. Carol replied coolly.
Today
The principal, Mr. Miller, was a distinguished-looking man in his 50s with an air of authority and a mane of gray hair.
“What offense are you here for, Jack?” he asked.
“I didn’t wake up on time, and got to school 20 minutes late,” Jack said, in a low voice, looking at the floor.
“What perplexes me in your case is why you didn’t give some transparent excuse, like, I had late basketball practice, I burned breakfast, so my mom made me clean it up, my pet gerbil is sick, and I was worried about it. Where did your ingenuity go?”
Jack cleared his throat. “The truth is that I read a fortune cookie last week, and it said that you should always tell the truth, even when it is inconvenient. I thought I would tell it like it was; in hindsight, it was a bad idea.”
“I see,” the principal said slowly and steepled his hands. “Do you happen to have any more of those fortune cookies?”
Jack was nonplussed and was about to answer “no” when he realized there might be some in today’s lunchbox. He rummaged in his backpack, with the “Stephen Curry” label sewn on it. At the bottom, he found the box. At the bottom of the box were two fortune cookies.
They ate them in friendly silence.
“Hmm, nutmeg, and a subtle vanilla flavor, I believe,” Mr. Miller said. After another minute passed, he said: “Do you know the hamster that lives in the biology class? He is your responsibility for the weekend, take good care of it. And don’t be late again.”
Jack quickly turned to go before Mr. Miller changed his mind and gave a much harsher sentence.
“One more thing,” Jack turned around slowly. “Please ask your mom for the recipe,” Mr. Miller said.
