In fifth grade a few students in my class came up with a "brilliant" idea for an April Fools Day prank. They spent our morning art class discussing it, working out the details. I was sitting on the other side of the room with my friends, working on a painting of an apple. We had only the vaguest idea that they were planning something epic, something that would involve ketchup.
After lunch, the pranksters began to put their plan into action. The boy excused himself to the bathroom to get ready. It was all very natural; there no hint that something was amiss. He returned to his seat at the front of the room and waited for the right moment.
All of the sudden he fell out of his chair. The desk was knocked askance and he was on the floor convulsing. The students around him stood up and got out of the way, as the teacher hurried over. She commanded a student to call the nurse, get her there as quickly as possible, the boy was seizing.
The girl had been involved in the planning the prank that morning. She made the call without hesitation.
We stood in a ragged circle around him, trying to give the teacher room and still see what was going on. The school nurse arrived and we cleared out for her. The teacher was concerned that he had bitten his tongue, enough to make it bleed, possible enough to sever it. The was no room in my head for anything but fear and concern for the poor boy.
The nurse told the teacher that an ambulance was on the way, and the boy finally realized that his prank has gone on long enough. He stopped convulsing, sat up, and removed the ketchup packet from his mouth.
"April Fools."
It was sheepish, embarrassed. He knew he'd done wrong, gone too far. But there was pride there too. He had fooled us all. What a great actor!
The teacher was irate. Her voice was tightly controlled when she spoke. "Why would you do that?" A whisper trying not to be a scream.
"She was supposed to say April Fool." He pointed at the girl who had called the nurse, deflecting the anger.
"I got scared," the girl defended herself. "It looked so real." The compliment made him grin, but the teacher's attention had shifted so she didn't notice.
"You knew about this, too? And you called the nurse anyway? We called an ambulance. We thought there was something really wrong. Do you have any idea what you've done?" This was worse than yelling. The cold anger, the steely disappointment. The girl who'd called the nurse cowered under her glare, but managed to rally.
"It wasn't just me! Everyone knew!" She blurted, gesturing toward the rest of us. "We talked about it in art. And no one else said anything either!" Spread the blame around as much as possible.
Enough people confirmed that yes, they had been discussing a prank and a ketchup packet in art. We all became culpable. No one had spoken up; everyone would be punished.
We were divided into five groups, each assigned to a day of the week. When it was your day, you had to sacrifice your recess in order to help clean up the cafeteria after lunch. This system remained in place for the rest of the school year. It was harsh for those of us who hadn't truly been involved, a slap on the wrist for those who had. Unfair on all counts. Especially since the boy continued to be both a gifted actor and a complete jerk.
