Mr. Hunefeld started teaching math the year you graduated. He was part of one of those “teach for a couple of years and we’ll pay for your college” programs, but fell in love with the job and stayed on once his contract was up. Being a math whiz, binomial equations and Riemann sums come naturally to him, and he’s even had some math theory published in journals, making him well known to universities nationwide. Some of his more advanced classes, like Calculus and Trigonometry, are known to be ridiculously challenging for all but the brightest, and students know that an A+ in one of those classes is a golden ticket to scholarships. On the downside, he often overestimates what should be expected from high school students under his instruction, and his coworkers tend to regard him as being rather arrogant. Administratively, he’s been reprimanded on numerous occasions for failing too many students, which has brought Valley View High under scrutinous watch from the State Superintendent. It had been rumored that recent budget cuts were a direct result of the large number of students he’d failed, and that Principal Roy had been looking for a math teacher who better understood the financial equations of his school.
A concerned look has replaced the confidence typically found on Mr. Hunefeld’s face. He stares inquisitively at the scene before him, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I never believed I’d ever permit myself to be in the presence of such a brutish act as murder, and I keep trying to calculate what could have possibly happened. Einstein said that “As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain, and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality.” Perhaps that is why none of this feels real, but maybe a mind like yours can help me make sense of something. Before the power went out, I was keeping a steady eye on the Coach, ever since he inexplicably “washed his hands” after the Principal was found, something I’ve never witnessed the Coach do in all my years at Valley View. The counselor was sitting on the bed, muttering to herself, right next to the bedside table containing the lamp. Miss Lehman was by the door, arms crossed, also keeping an eye on the ever-shifty Coach. Vice Principal Alden was standing at the foot of the bed, he’d been talking non-stop since getting shut in here and we’d all stopped listening to him. The thunder cracked, and darkness ensued. I heard footsteps, but they were drowned by the screams of Miss Lehman and Mrs. Marcott. Strangely, the screams of the Counselor were… well, I don’t want to speculate, but they were… rageful. I must admit that for a brief moment, I was terrified.”