It was near the end of the school year. It was decided that Devin’s contract would not be renewed. Travis would inform Devin after the end of year teachers’ “party”. But somehow Devin had found out in advance.
Devin got a syringe, filled a little bottle with poison, and creeping into Travis vegetable garden at night, managed to inject all the tomatoes with the concoction. Whipty-do! All that Devin need do now was to sit around and wait for Travis and his family to kick the bucket.
Nothing happened. No one died. No one even got sick. The end of year teachers’ party was held. Devin was informed by Travis that his services were no longer required in the next academic year. Devin wasn’t sure if his seething hatred was because of the dismissal or because of the ineffective poison. He was livid. Next time he wouldn’t get it wrong. Travis was a goner.
A day later, Devin got a gun. He loaded it. He got in his car and headed for Travis’ house. He drove fast. He drove impetuously. He drove dangerously. He had an accident and was killed.
The funeral, held in the school’s gymnasium, was huge. Travis spoke of the tragic loss to the school of a good and talented teacher of science; in fact, they were naming the new science block after him.
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