The Principal of the Thing

By Stoney M. Setzer

Most high school principals looked forward to graduation night, but not Edwin. It was the one night of the year that he couldn’t ignore his psychic ability—he dared not call it a gift.

As he handed diplomas to the graduates, he would see flashes of their future, snapshots of what was to come. It took him three years before he realized that the premonitions were astonishingly accurate.

The inevitable moment came as the graduates marched down the aisles and lined up at the foot of the stage. Edwin stood, masking his apprehension as best he could as he handed the first student a diploma.

Acker, Jennifer Patricia. An obsidian image of imminent death struck Edwin, almost making him reel. He had foreseen graduates dying young many times, but never had it been the first graduate, and never with such immediacy.

Adams, Derek Lawrence. There it was again, another vision of impending doom close at hand.

Alvarez, Anna Michelle. Again! Three in a row now, all seemingly destined to leave this world very soon, perhaps even tonight.

The dire predictions repeated every time he handed off a diploma. By the time he had gotten down to Luke Baird, there was no denying it. These students were not only graduating high school; they were graduating into eternity.

What could kill them all? An act of terror? School shootings had become more frequent over recent years. What if it happened here? It wasn’t the first time that such a nightmarish thought had occurred to him, but never had it felt so real. The school was supposed to have metal detectors installed last summer, but the need for foundation repairs had eaten those funds.

Can I prevent it? Edwin wondered as he almost robotically continued to hand off diplomas. Are their futures set, or can they be changed? I have to try!

A chilling thought came to his mind as the procession continued. Could it be one of the students? How well do I really know them? The staff had ensured the graduates wore appropriate attire underneath the cap and gown. Would they have checked for weapons as well, or could someone have been determined enough to slip something by them?

He focused more on their faces than he ever had before. Having tried so hard to ignore his psychic ability, he had rarely explored the possibility of using it to read minds. There was no guarantee that it could be done, but if there was any chance, he had to give it his best effort.

There was something there besides the dark nothingness of their futures, but it was more like reading emotions than minds. Feelings of excitement, pride, and joy were manifest in most of them. There was even a little sadness here and there…

And one murky perception of darkness, envy and pain.

Edwin locked eyes with Chance Hooper. His royal blue cap and gown marked the first time in four years that Edwin had seen him wearing any color besides black. Long, unkempt hair, dyed the darkest shade imaginable, obscured half of his face, but his eyes darted this way and that looking at his classmates. No warmth, no feelings of friendship—only envy and pain and a desperate desire to end such feelings…

But what am I going to do about it?

Chance reached inside the blue robe. The image came to Edwin’s mind as soon as Chance’s hand touched the pistol grip. “Gun!” Edwin cried, lunging forward and knocking Chance off his feet.

Screams erupted around the auditorium. Chance wrestled to pull his hand out, but Edwin clamped his hand around his skinny wrist. He looked up at Mrs. Stassi, the assistant principal. “Evacuate!” he yelled, hoping to be heard over the din.

He didn’t know if she heard him or just read his lips, but it didn’t matter. Grabbing the microphone, Mrs. Stassi issued evacuation instructions. Her authoritative voice didn’t completely squelch the panic, but it got people to comply. Students and faculty ran past while Chance strained against Edwin’s hold.

“Why did you do that?” Chance screamed.

“You’re not going to shoot all these people!” Edwin said through gritted teeth.

Chance’s eyes widened. “What? I wasn’t going to shoot anybody but myself!”

By now the two policemen stationed at the doors had swooped in. One got the pistol out of Chance’s hands while the other handcuffed him. “He needs help,” Edwin said. “He was planning to kill himself.” Regret cut through him. I could have seen this sooner if I had been paying attention, especially with this so-called gift. He needed help long before this, and I failed him.

But if he wasn’t going to shoot anybody else, why did I keep getting that vision of everyone dying?

The auditorium was empty. Edwin followed the police officers outside and stopped once he got to the parking lot where the student body and their families waited. All right, now what? Edwin thought. I still don’t know what to do about the visions…

Suddenly there was a loud, cracking sound. Edwin turned just in time to see a jagged fissure cutting its way through the face of the auditorium, from the ground up. Half of the building collapsed, starting at the far side, falling not to the ground but down into it.

“Sinkhole!” somebody shouted.

“If we had stayed in there, we might have all been killed!” cried another.

Is it possible I changed the future?

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Luke Baird standing just behind him. Backing up, he brushed against Luke, doing his best to make it appear unintentional, just so he could see…

Luke Baird, ten years into the future, married with three kids and teaching high school history.

“Oh, thank God,” Edwin whispered. For the first time, his gift didn’t feel like a curse.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Stoney M. Setzer lives south of Atlanta, GA. He has a beautiful wife, three wonderful children, and one crazy dog, and he is also a die-hard Atlanta Braves fan. He has written a trilogy of novels about small-town amateur sleuth Wesley Winter and a short story anthology entitled Zero Hour featuring Twilight Zone–like stories with Christian themes.

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