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We were kept inside during morning recess, allowed only to walk down the hall to the supply room to buy milk and cookies, five boys at a time to limit any roughhousing. I had just returned to my seat, neatly stacked my ten vanilla wafers on top of my desk, and pried open the spout on my container of chocolate milk when Poochie strode through the door. He stopped in the aisle and looked down at me, cocked his head to one side, then hocked. A thick bubbling gob of phlegm shot out of his mouth and landed on my desk.