9 - Breakdown

Each Monday since Mr. Riggs had introduced the pep powder to Elizabeth had been a little harder than the last. She would try to make her small supply last until Tuesday, just like her teacher had instructed, but she was always somehow just a bit short. It didn't help that it was now taking larger doses of the stuff to make her feel as good as when she had been first introduced to it, either. This Monday, however, was particularly bad.

Elizabeth had used up the last of her pep Saturday evening, which confused her because she had been sure that she'd had enough to get through the entire weekend. By the time Monday afternoon rolled around, she had been without pep for nearly two days, and felt quite wretched. Mr. Riggs never seemed to want to let her have extra powder, but she was hoping that, just this once, he might make an exception.

"No, Elizabeth." Mr. Riggs stated, a little harshly. "I'll give you a bit so you can help me out this afternoon, but you'll have to wait until tomorrow for a refill."

Elizabeth had been entreating Mr. Riggs for nearly ten minutes, growing more desperately insistent at each successive refusal. Her teacher seemed to be swiftly growing irritated with her, which explained the harsh tone of his response.

"Please, please, please, Mr. Riggs. Just this once, I swear!" Elizabeth begged. She had slowly intruded further and further into Mr. Riggs' personal space during their conversation, and was now standing practically toe to toe with him, looking up into his face with pleading eyes and tugging slightly on his arm in time with her pleas.

"Elizabeth, I've already said no. If you ask one more time, I won't even give you some for this afternoon." said Mr. Riggs, scowling down at his student and roughly freeing his arm from her grasp.

"Okay, okay. Mr. Riggs. I'm sorry!" Elizabeth replied, as she backed quickly away from Mr. Riggs. The idea of being denied even the small dose of powder that she had come to rely on so heavily every Monday afternoon clearly frightened her.

Mr. Riggs frowned at her, then prepared the test tube of heavily diluted pep for Elizabeth, as he had done so often now. As he did, Elizabeth noticed that the amount of powder he dropped into the tube was the smallest yet, barely more than a speck.

"Um.. Mr. Riggs." Elizabeth said, clearly trying not to anger him any more. "Could.. could you put a little more pep in there. That wasn't very much.."

"This is sufficient. Take it." Mr. Riggs replied, flatly, as he made to hand over the test tube.

"Please, Mr. Riggs, just a little more. I need it." Elizabeth pleaded, refusing to take the tube.

"Take it, Elizabeth." Mr. Riggs said, his tone growing darker as he pushed the tube into Elizabeth's hands.

Something inside of Elizabeth seemed to snap, and she pushed the tube back at her teacher, hard, and nearly shouted at him.

"No, I need more!"

The tube twisted in their fingers, slipping out from between their hands. It seemed to hang in the air for just a moment, then dropped to the floor hard, shattering.

Both Mr. Riggs and Elizabeth stared down at the broken glass and small splatter of liquid on the smooth linoleum tiles between them.

"I.. I.. I'm sorry!" Elizabeth started to blurt, looking up at her teacher, scared.

Mr. Riggs cut her off before she could finish, though.

"Enough." he said, coldly. "Elizabeth, clean this mess up. While you do that, I'm going to talk to Miss Evans for a few minutes before she goes home for the day. Be ready to work when I get back."

"Um, okay." Elizabeth said, her voice sounding small as she flinched away from the tone of her teacher's voice.

Mr. Riggs looked at her steadily for a few more moments, then shook his head and turned away. He put the cap back on the large bottle of pep still on his desk, then made to put it away in its drawer. Elizabeth, seeing this and starting to panic, spoke up again.

"Uh, Mr. Riggs, could.."

"No." Mr. Riggs replied, cutting her off again. His voice was arctic. He didn't bother to look at her while he answered, he just finished locking the drawer, then turned to the door and left Elizabeth there, standing over the broken glass.

Elizabeth felt like crying, but managed not to let any tears out while she swept up the broken glass. As she wiped up the liquid on the floor, she had a strong urge to wring the damp paper towels out over her upturned mouth, to suck the fluid out of them, or perhaps even chew them up and swallow them, just to try and get a little of the dissolved pep inside them. She managed to resist the impulse, barely, mostly by imagining how Mr. Riggs would react if he happened to return while she was doing so.

She finished cleaning up the mess, then just sat at her chair at the workbench, her whole body trembling a little. She waited for Mr. Riggs to return.

Mr. Riggs was taking quite a long time to do so, however. The longer Elizabeth waited for him, the more acute her need for pep began to feel. Her eyes kept straying to the locked drawer that held such large quantities of what she so desperately desired. Finally, Elizabeth got up and walked slowly to her teacher's desk, glancing at the door to the back room, through which Mr. Riggs might return at any time, as she did so.

Bending down, she tugged gently on the drawer, hoping against hope that maybe Mr. Riggs had not locked it properly. Unfortunately, he had. The drawer stayed firmly shut. Frustrated, Elizabeth tugged harder on the drawer, getting it to shift back and forth a little bit along its railing. The contents of the drawer clunked audibly against each other as it did so.

Elizabeth stood, shaking with need. Without pausing to let herself think, to consider just what might happen if Mr. Riggs found out what she was doing, Elizabeth grabbed up a large straight screwdriver from the work bench and returned to the desk with it. She yanked as hard as she could on the drawer with one hand, then tried to jam the tip of the screwdriver into the tiny seam that opened up between the lip of the drawer and the desk with the other.

Elizabeth managed to get the tip of the screwdriver into the seam, just barely. Kneeling down on the floor, so she would be nearer the same height as the drawer and have better leverage, Elizabeth leaned on the screwdriver hard, trying to force the tool as far into the slowly widening space as she could. Grunting with effort, she worked the thin steel rod back and forth, slowly bending the metal lip of the drawer.

All at once, the screwdriver drove through the gap, forcing itself into the drawer all the way to the plastic grip. Slowly, so as not to accidentally pull the tool out completely, Elizabeth slipped the screwdriver back out again about half way. She then began to lever it back and forth between the metal of the drawer and the desk, widening the gap as the metal bent.

Her progress so far making her confident, Elizabeth then began to put more of her weight into the motions, feeling the thin metal give more and more. She could feel the drawer straining to open against the strength of the lock, the metal squeaking and groaning as it bent. She thought that just a few more moments of effort would achieve her goal, and her heart sped up at the happy thought of the large bottles of powder nearly within her grasp.

The sound of the door shutting behind her was loud, making her jump in surprise.

Elizabeth froze then, her whole body locking up in rigid fear. Slowly, she turned her shoulders and head around to look up at Mr. Riggs, who stared down at her. She expected outrage and anger to be evident on his face, perhaps even fury, but his expression was completely neutral, like he was simply looking at a rather uninteresting bug that happened to be crawling across his floor.

As Elizabeth knelt there, the fact that Mr. Riggs somehow appeared so calm started to infuriated her. Here she was, desperately trying to break in to his desk, to steal from him, and he just didn't seem to care. The anger Elizabeth felt flowing hotly throughout her body returned movement to her, and she stood up and faced her teacher, shaking with pent up emotions.

"I.. I n-need it." Elizabeth said, anger making the words stutter as she forced them passed her lips.

"You n-never give m-me enough." she continued, glaring up at him, tears starting to flow down her cheeks. Her shaking was increasing.

"I NEED more. O-open the dr-drawer."

"Elizab.." Mr. Riggs started to say, but she cut him off, almost screaming.

"Shut UP!"

Elizabeth was panting quickly, almost hyperventilating, and started to sway back and forth a bit unsteadily on her feet.

"You don't c-care! You never gi-give me enough, never!" Elizabeth said, shaking her head. "Open the drawer."

Mr. Riggs made no movement, he simply stood there, watching her.

"I m-mean it, open the drawer!" she yelled.

To emphasize her demand, Elizabeth brought the screwdriver, which she had been clutching tightly in both hands against her chest, out and pointed it at Mr. Riggs, as though it were a weapon.

"O.. o.. o-open th-the dr.. draw.." she tried to repeat, her stutter growing steadily worse, as did her swaying. The tip of the screwdriver wavered unsteadily, her arms seemingly about to give way, as she tried to roll her shoulders and upper arms against her eyes, to clear them of tears, without looking away from her teacher.

Mr. Riggs continued looking at her for a moment, ignoring the screwdriver completely, then slowly brought up both his arms up and away from his sides. He moved his hands, slowly and steadily, up until they were level with Elizabeth's tear stained shoulders. She made an abrupt movement with the screwdriver, as if she might poke one of his arms with it, to which he also paid no attention.

Mr. Riggs then carefully placed his hands upon Elizabeth's shoulders. The girl jumped a bit at his touch, wavering unsurely on her feet. She looked at his arms, steadying her, then back up to Mr. Riggs' face, confusion evident on her features.

"Elizabeth." Mr. Riggs said, gently. His voice stuck her like a hammer, despite its gentleness, and she flinched, looking away from him.

"Elizabeth." Mr. Riggs continued. "I'm trying to help you."

It wasn't what he said that undid Elizabeth in that moment, but how he said it. There was no anger in his voice, no scorn nor fear, as she might have expected. There was some disappointment, yes, but the overwhelming emotion she sensed coming from him through his voice and his touch was of concern. He had caught her in the act of breaking into his desk and attempting to steal from him, and he wasn't angry with her at all, but worried for her.

Elizabeth's lip began to tremble, and the eyes she had barely managed to clear of tears moments before filled back up again. The anger which had fueled her outburst drained from her. The screwdriver fell out of her hands, clattering to the floor between them, and she collapsed against Mr. Riggs, burying her face in his shirt, sobbing brokenly.

Mr. Riggs spent the next twenty minutes consoling the distraught girl, holding her while she cried wretchedly into his chest and then lap. They wound up at Mr. Riggs' desk, with him sitting in his chair, and Elizabeth sprawled, kneeling on the floor, against his legs with her head in his lap. She would occasionally try to speak, to blubber out agonized apologies, but he would simply stroke her hair and shoulders and shush her. Once she had finally cried herself out, they simply sat that way, in silence, for a few minutes.

"Elizabeth, I know you've been having a hard time with the pep powder. I feel badly about that. Perhaps I shouldn't have introduced it to you in the first place." said Mr. Riggs softly, breaking the quiet.

Elizabeth looked up at him with large eyes still glistening with tears, then shook her head without lifting it from his lap.

"No, Mr. Riggs." she said, voice husky and a bit hollow after her long bout of crying, "It's my fault. I've been using more than you said to. Y-you told me over and over not to use too much, but I still did. It just makes me feel so much better than I was, it's hard not to."

"You do seem to be more happy recently, when you have enough pep." said Mr. Riggs, stroking her hair. "Perhaps.. perhaps I could give you a larger supply of it, if it means that much to you."

"R-really?" Elizabeth stammered, turning hopeful eyes up towards her teacher, mouth opening in surprise.

"Yes, I think so, if you would be willing to do something in return for me." said Mr. Riggs, smiling down at her and patting her on the shoulder.

"What do you want me to do?" Elizabeth asked, without hesitation, looking up at him from her position kneeling at his feet. Her cheeks were still reddened and tear streaked, but the expression on her face and in her eyes was wide and sincere. She looked like she would do absolutely anything that he might ask of her right then, and be grateful for the opportunity.

"Nothing too arduous." Mr. Riggs said, chuckling a little and looking down at her fondly. "I'd like you to help me test out my ovens more thoroughly. It will be similar to what we did last Friday, only more so. Do you think you can manage that?"

"That sounds fine, Mr. Riggs." Elizabeth said, and meant it.

It had seemed a little strange to her at the time, but looking back at it, having Mr. Riggs half-cook her arm to demonstrate his oven hadn't actually been that big of a deal. Her arm actually had not even been half-cooked, really, more like quarter or even tenth-cooked. A little sauce and a bit of heat were a small price to pay. Maybe he would do her leg next, Elizabeth thought.

"Well, I don't think that we're going to be able to accomplish anything more today." Mr. Riggs said. "If you can, why don't you go fetch your bottle, and I'll live up to my half of the arrangement now."

Elizabeth's heart soared, and she would have jumped up and raced out the door and in to the classroom to grab her little bottle, if she hadn't just spent nearly half an hour kneeling in the same position on a cold, hard floor. It took her a moment to stand up, then she went, a little weak and wobbly, and got her bottle.

Elizabeth watched Mr. Riggs insert his key into the lock on the drawer, and she winced at the gouges and bends in the metal that she had inflicted on it. Mr. Riggs didn't seem to notice them, however, and unlocked the drawer easily. He pulled out the large bottle, popped both bottles' tops, and began to spoon heaping scoopfuls of powder from one to the other. Elizabeth was amazed to see Mr. Riggs fill her bottle right up to the top, nearly overflowing the brim. He had never been half so generous before, and she thought that he had probably just now given her nearly as much powder as he had given her in all previous weekly fill-ups combined.

Mr. Riggs seemed to realize this too, because when he handed the bottle to her after re-capping it, he didn't let go immediately. Instead, he looked her seriously in the eyes and spoke.

"Don't go crazy with this, Elizabeth." he warned. "Just because you've got a lot more powder now, doesn't mean that you should abuse it. I expect this to last you several weeks. If you come to me next week with an empty bottle, I'm going to be very displeased."

"Uh, okay, Mr. Riggs." said Elizabeth, tugging a little on the bottle.

"I mean it, Elizabeth." said Mr. Riggs, putting his other hand on hers, holding both the small bottle and her small hand in between his large, thin ones.

"I told you the first time I gave you pep that it wouldn't hurt you, and that was true, then. But now, with this much powder, you could hurt yourself, perhaps very badly. Don't take too much at once, okay?" he finished, patting her hand with his, then letting go.

"I won't, Mr. Riggs. Thank you, I.. I'm.." Elizabeth said, her throat working. "..Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Elizabeth. I'll see you in class tomorrow." said Mr. Riggs, smiling. "Be ready for Wednesday's extra credit session. I think that you will find it very.. stimulating."

"Uh, ok, Mr. Riggs. Goodbye." Elizabeth said, then left him.

Mr. Riggs sat in his chair for a few moments longer, listening to the quiet of the room after Elizabeth had departed. Then he smiled, broadly, and laughed delightedly out loud. He simply couldn't help it, because things were proceeding so utterly perfectly.