The Next Morning
You got used to tactfully handling strange objects, as a caretaker.
In just the last five months, items Harry had disposed of included three authentic World-War-1 navy uniforms, a blood-stained carpet, and a lifesize inflatable Mercedes.
And especially in this school, unusual kinds of mess were pretty much the norm.
You repaired broken windows, you replaced burnt classroom furniture, you replastered over axe gouges in the walls, and you didn't say a word.
This one, though, might be a little difficult to explain.
Actually, more than a little difficult.
Harry stood there for a few minutes, quietly taking in the situation.
Then he pulled out his notepad.
*Broken banister rails - have them fixed. Maybe reinforced steel would be better?
*Broken floorboards - also need to be fixed.
*Big hole in floor - have this filled in before fixing floorboards. (Could be expensive. If we blame it on earthquake last Tues, will insurance pay?)
*Smashed skylight - needs replacing. Blame this on earthquake, too. Or on gangs (PCP).
Harry nodded with satisfaction. That'd do.
And as for the skeleton, lying impaled in the middle of the room… he'd just leave that here.
With any luck, the librarian would get rid of it for him.