By SJ Stevenson

Miss Lipkiss is smiling. She holds up her ruler and we all fall silent. “This is Henry,” she says. “He is joining our class.”

I do not like Henry. I tell Miss Lipkiss: “Henry is a crocodile.”

All the children laugh at me.

“Don’t be silly, dear,” Miss Lipkiss says. “Henry’s not a crocodile. Henry’s an ordinary boy, just like you.”

But Henry is a crocodile. His grin is long and wide and full of jagged teeth. He snaps them at me as he sits at the empty desk behind mine. Miss Lipkiss pretends she doesn’t notice.

I can feel Henry grinning at me for the rest of the day.

When it is tomorrow, Emilia Turner doesn’t come to school. No one knows where she is. But I know. Because today Henry is fatter, and he is wearing Emilia’s glasses on the end of his snout.

When it is the next tomorrow, Daniel Mason doesn’t come in. No one knows where he is, either. And only I notice that Henry is wearing Daniel’s watch.

I am brave, though I don’t want to be. “Where is Emilia?” I ask Henry. “Where is Daniel Mason?”

Henry just grins at me.

I tell Miss Lipkiss that Henry has eaten Emilia and Daniel. Miss Lipkiss does not smile. Miss Lipkiss tells me not to speak nonsense.

But then it is the next, next tomorrow, and Miss Lipkiss does not come into school.

Instead, Henry stands at the front of the class. He grins. He tells us what work we will do. He is holding Miss Lipkiss’ ruler.

Henry sits on the edge of my desk. “Do you still think I am a crocodile?” he says.

Henry thinks I will not dare say yes. I think I won’t dare say yes. But Henry is wearing Emilia’s glasses and Daniel’s watch. He is holding Miss Lipkiss’ ruler.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes, you are a crocodile.”

Some of the children laugh at me. But most of them don’t. Henry is very cross and tells me to stay after class. 

“You should run,” Dylan Bennett tells me, when Henry turns away.

“No, you should hide,” Cathy Taylor says.

I think I will run. I think I might hide. I am only small, and I am very, very scared. But I shake my head. “No,” I say. “Henry is a crocodile; he should not be in charge.”

I hear Dylan whispering to the other children that I won’t run. I see Cathy telling them in notes that I will not hide. I feel the other children’s eyes. They are wide. They are frightened too.

At the end of the day, Henry tells the class to go. Some do, but some don’t. Henry shouts. His mouth is long and wide and full of jagged teeth, but he is not grinning.

The children do not leave.

“They are not leaving,” I tell Henry. “We are not leaving. You are leaving.”

Dylan and Cathy join me: “You are leaving. You are leaving.”

Henry is angry. He snaps his teeth over and again. 

Then the other children chant it too: “You are leaving. You are leaving.”

Henry holds up Miss Lipkiss’ ruler. He waves it at Dylan. He pokes it at Cathy. He lifts it high overhead to hit me. I do not want to be hurt, but I will not cry as I bow my head and wait for the blow.

But it does not land. The other children are standing around Henry in a circle, Dylan and Cathy holding onto his scaly arm. Henry pulls his arm free and the ruler smacks down.

It misses. It hits the edge of a desk. The snapping noise is very loud as the ruler breaks.

The classroom goes quiet. Henry looks down at his empty hand.

And now the children are cheering, and it is Henry who is scared. He pushes through the children, and his crocodile tears are real as he runs and runs away. As he disappears through the door, he no longer looks like a crocodile. He looks only like a tiny lizard.

“You are leaving,” I whisper, and I wonder why we were ever afraid.

And then it is the tomorrow after the bad tomorrows. There is a new teacher. There is always a new teacher. This one is neither good nor bad. They are just a teacher.

I sit, I listen, I daydream. I stare out of the window.

Henry is outside. He is looking in. He is grinning again. Always grinning. Always waiting for another chance to come back inside.