Each day patrolling the high school halls was an adventure, and each day I confronted and was confronted by knucklehead behavior. That is, behavior that made me ask: Are you serious? What were you thinking? Are you kidding me? Sometimes I’d laugh, sometimes I’d yell and curse, sometimes I pulled my handcuffs and other times  I wished I had a ray-gun, one touch and the offenders would be toast, obliterated -out of sight.

The ones I wanted out-of-sight were my knuckleheads. Drifters introduces the reader to a gaggle of individuals. I had an ODD menace, a fight promoter and his stable of fighters; a deviant pirate; a haunted bus; a gambling, dice rolling group; a couple of fake gangs; a Goth-filled room of alternative life-styles; a gypsy kid and his clan; a loan shark, leg-breaker want-a-bee and rugby team full of barbers; several other knucklehead candidates will be introduced in spite of their deviant malfunctions. Auditions for a place in the pages of Drifters was often spontaneous, like a rogue thunderstorm that bangs constantly, but never goes away.

These were my usual suspects. I loved these kids and at times I hated them, alright I never hated them, I hated their behavior. I worried about them, stuck up for them, knocked a few down a peg or two and always had their backs (when I could), even when they hated me and I was outnumbered.  At school, for about seven hours a day, they were my dysfunctional family and because of that, my life changed- in a good way.

They brought a certain light to my life and I brought life to their stories.