Back when I was living in Zimbabwe I had this group of friends. We weren’t by any means considered cool in any way except for perhaps myself since I was a novelty in the school. In an ultra-conservative environment, outside the United States, pretty much everyone you meet is going to judge you with this preconceived notion that, by virtue of your Americaness, you must also be quite devoid of original thinking or any measure of intelligence. It also means that the rebellious types flock around you for being a preconceived badass. Those intelligent enough to make their own judgments, also befriended me, since I was smart and funny. I probably had the largest mix of acquaintances in that institution, and I made a point of being friendly to everyone no matter how retarded they were. I was after all trying to change the stereotype. Fortunately I also found a handful of enlightened people or two who to call close friends. In the meantime my popularity grew among both teachers and students as being the most unusual American they had ever met. Then again, I myself am the most unusual American I know so perhaps my efforts to educate were in vain. I’m digressing.

At the end of the year my comrades came up with the rather brilliant plan to pour two liters of potassium permanganate into the swimming pool at St. George’s College. We had considered gelatin, but that idea proved too costly and complicated. Our hypothesis stated that the pool water would instantly turn a dark deep purple color. We also reasoned that since potassium permanganate is antiseptic, we would, at worst, be giving the pool a good cleaning. I considered it atonement for the numerous times I had urinated in its waters way back when I was forced to humiliate myself at the back stroke.

Since I am not a very good burglar, I offered my contributions as the financer of the project, funding my compatriots with the chemical in question. In the end, I had little to do with the plot.

The plan was simple. One of my comrades had stolen the key to the grounds, and snuck himself, and another, in the dead of night. Apparently they only had one run in with a security guard who stopped, thinking he had heard something, and then moved on. A quick hop over the swimming pool’s fence, and a few moments later, the package was delivered, and my friend made out safe from harm.

The following day was monumentous. The pool was a deep deep purple color, and the whole school was in awe of the feat. People began proclaiming that they had perpetrated the crime. Rumors were flying everywhere, each one more outrageous than the last. I’ve never been in the situation where everyone is talking about something where I am one of the few who know the true facts. Someone said they had tasted the pool water and that the substance was grape syrup. Another said he had poured the paint himself and defiantly declared that he didn’t care if they kicked him out of school for it. I was shocked and angered by the fact that anyone would even begin to take credit for that which had been done. People were questioned extensively. And then the school began a bout of pathetic psychological warfare on us.

First they said that they knew who had done it, and that if the student turned themselves in, they wouldn’t be expelled from the school. Failing that, they claimed that the pool system had been ruined, and threatened to charge every student for “fixing” the problem. That was a pretty dumb move since the parents went ape-shit at that prospect. Finally they began taking random people, and accusing them of having done the crime outright. One of my buddies was confronted in this manner, but he held up under the questioning.

Then I began hearing whispers among the professors that they were of the opinion that the only American in the school was responsible for this, as it was the most ambitious prank ever pulled in the history of the institution. Fortunately my alibi was ironclad. I was with my parents all night. The school left me alone, but I know many people had decided I was behind it. That pissed me off.

In the end, they got away with it clean and simple. The plot still remains legend at the school. I sometimes imagine myself returning one day and reveal this longest unsolved mystery just to see their faces, now that I am invulnerable. In the meantime I remain bitter towards many of the people over there who automatically judged me guilty by virtue of my land of birth. I would eventually have my revenge after I left the school as my A-level results came in, thoroughly blowing all but three or four students out of the water.

I don’t really talk to those guys anymore. Random stuff happened which broke us apart, but that’s a different story.