“I’d never take my Amy to New Beginnings.” Amy’s Mommy said. “Not after everything I’ve learned since. Mrs Beouf’s class is so much better. No hypnosis. No drugs. No pain punishments. Just lots of love, therapy, and positive reinforcement.” She ticked those off on her fingers, like she was reciting a mantra. “And that goes both ways, for Littles and their parents. I only withdrew her because I wanted to open up a spot for some other Little baby in need. Amy was so lucky to meet you and Mrs Beouf.”
“I don’t work with Mrs Beouf,” I said. “Not directly. We’re just classroom neighbors.”
Amy’s Mommy nodded. “I know,” she said. “But I think you being there helped her adjustment.” My throat went dry. “Just seeing a grown-up Little, like you, helped her realize that she wasn’t one. She told me a bit about your time outs. It was a really big help.”
I rocked back, catching myself. It wasn’t a speed bump that made me lose my balance. “Help?”
Pulling up on the Amazon’s leg, Amy hoisted herself to her feet. Her legs splayed out and her hands went wild for balance. I’d seen enough diapered Littles to know that it wasn’t the bulk between her legs throwing off her balance. Maybe it was something in her shoes. Maybe her legs had been messed with like her teeth. Maybe she just wasn’t used to walking by herself anymore. “Oh! Someone wants a hug!”
Amy grasped the Amazon’s hand for balance and toddled, literally toddled across the bus aisle to me. She leaned into me and wrapped her arms around my chest, laying her head into my shoulder. “Fankyoo,” she whispered to me. Then she wobbled back and sat on the floor.
I helped? Thankyou? I felt wobbly. I felt sick. Don’t faint. Don’t throw up. Don’t cry. For the love of God don’t cry. Catherine must have seen me losing it because she spoke up for the first time. “So, Miss Madra,” Catherine said. “What brings you and your Little girl out this late. My husband and I were just on a dinner date.”
Smart, Catherine. Smart. Reinforcing the notion that we were adults without sounding too resentful. Guiding the conversation away from mind-fuckery. Thanks Cass. I shot her a look of thanks. Subtly she nodded. She’d take over a bit.
Amazons don’t give us Littles enough credit for our ability at subterfuge. They see only what they want to see. Miss Madra took the bait. “Oh, we were just heading home from the Little Voices meeting. Amy doesn’t really pay attention, but she loves to play. Some of the other parents bring their babies, but not this time, right Amy?”
“Nuh-uh.” Amy wasn’t even looking up now. Something else had caught her attention.
“But she was perfectly happy to just crawl around on the floor while the grown-ups talked.”
“Little Voices,” Catherine said. “I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with that organization. It is an organization, correct?”
I wasn’t looking, but I heard the tone shift in Amy’s Mommy’s voice. Catherine had just asked the street preacher to peddle their religion by the sound of it. “Oh yes, it’s a wonderful thing! It’s an advocacy group for-”
I tuned the Amazon out and followed the diapered Littles gaze to the floor. There, underneath the nearest front facing seat, was a wad of pre-chewed gum. Pink. Asymmetrical. Hard. Bits of hair, poking up out of it. Or maybe that was lint.