I got the power

‎"Wanna know how to drive a teacher crazy?" asked Clyde.
"No not really," I said. I was always the prim and proper kid at RTS and I was only in the second grade.
"I'm gonna tell you anyway," he said. "See this bobby pin?"
"Yeah."
"Well, you take it like this and bend it out straight like this."
"Uh huh."
"You know the space between the frame and the wooden seat in you desk?"
"Yeah."
"OK. Now you wedge this straight part into that space. Once it's snug you hold the other end down like this, then let it go. Simple. She never knows where it is coming from. Drives her crazy."

"You gonna try it?" asked Clyde. "It's great fun."

"I don' know. I might get in trouble."

"You pantywaist. Try to teach you some good fun stuff and you always say no 'cause you might get in trouble."

"My folks don't like me getting in trouble."

"Nef, you gotta enjoy yourself."

"Don't know that I would enjoy the teacher getting mad at me." 

"What a wimp."  With that he tossed the bobby pin and walked away shaking his head. I picked up the bobby pin and put it in my pocket. Shouldn't throw trash on the floor, I thought.

The next day after settling in my desk at school I took out my book as the teacher asked and slid forward in my seat to get a pencil out of my drawstring bag. Something stuck into my leg. I stifled a cry of pain and reached into my pocket and pulled out the straightened bobby pin. I know my face turned red because I had the weapon to irritate my teacher. I felt like a criminal but as I looked at it I began to wonder how it would feel. It was a slow creeping sense of power. Clyde told me I could control the teacher's actions with this little slip of metal. The more I thought about it the more I wanted to try it. I was in the back of the class so I would be seen. Snickering to myself I slipped the end of the bit of wire into the space Clyde had told me. I made sure it was tightly wedged. Then I looked up at the teacher, certain she had been watching my every move. She was busy at the blackboard writing something on it. I looked down at the bobby pin. I put my thumb on the end sticking out. I pushed it down and let it go precisely as Clyde had shown me. SPROING!

The sound of it was deafening to me. The teacher stopped and turned around. The class began to fidget looking in all directions to locate the sound. I sat up primly and properly and moved my head in all directions as if looking for the noise. 

"What was that?" the teacher asked. 

No one answered. I just shrugged my shoulders and looked around. She took no notice of me, frowned a little and turned back to the board. Encouraged I put my thumb on the spring. SPROING! SPROING! I popped it twice, living dangerously.

This time she stopped, turned around, and walked to the front line of desks. Looking around the room she said, "Whoever is making that noise, please stop. You are disrupting my class."

Clyde was right. I had her in the palm of my hand. I had the power. She continued to stand looking at each child. When she looked at me, I knew I was caught. I sat with crimson face but she looked away. HA! I said to myself. Once again she returned to the board. SPROING! SPROING! SPROING! I almost laughed out loud.

She stopped, turned quickly and slammed her book on her desk along with the chalk.

"Alright! Who's doing that? I won't have it!"

By now the other kids had located the noise and were looking at me snickering. The teacher began to walk along the aisles between the desks. First she looked at the kid who was always a troublemaker. He was holding his hands up shaking his head vigorously while trying not to laugh out loud. She turned from him and slowly looked around some more. Then she took her time returning to the blackboard. As her back turned. SPROING! SPROING! SPROING! SPROING! I popped it fast. To me it was a machine gun. I was having the time of my life. I was on the top of the world. All the kids knew it was me and they looked around laughing and snickering. The teacher was no longer in control. I was! It was bedlam in that room. Laughter bounced off the ceiling. That bobby pin was firing away like a tommy gun. I was watching it vibrate with each flick of my thumb and then the light from the windows was gone and a dark shadow fell over me. I stopped flicking the wire. I turned slowly to see my second grade teacher hovering over me. Her face shown anger with a touch of hurt because her quiet well behaved student had become a rowdy troublemaker.

"Rickey Croucher! What are you doing? Hand that thing over now!" I slipped the bobby pin from its position. I handed it to her as she pulled me up by my ear. We marched to the principal's office to the thunder of children's laughter along the breezeway. I caught it in the office. I caught it when I got home. 

Clyde just laughed for days.