Miss S

We rode back to school with Miss S. To us, her Mercury Cougar was as magnificent as a golden carriage. To sit inside that car, to be near Miss S, was breathtaking. Unlike the other fifth-grade teachers, Miss S wore colorful mini dresses and leather boots. Her shiny black hair was puffed in a bouffant, with perfect curls in front of each ear.
As we drove into the McDonald’s parking lot, Miss S announced that she had a surprise. We dumped our brown-bag lunches, and she then treated us to hamburgers and fries and milkshakes. It was our own little secret, said Miss S, and nobody else needed to know.