All three stared at each other in shock. Nobody seemed able to even reply to offer some comforting words to Megan. What could they say after all?

The piercing whine of a whistle broke them out of their funk, all three looking at the front of the building where several older adults had appeared. A woman in a long red dress was blowing the whistle, calling all the children to attention. Once there was relative silence the teachers began taking the classes line by line. A kindly looking woman in a fuzzy knitted sweater and a long dotted skirt stood before their line, smiling cheerfully at them. With a little wave she urged them forward and the trio found themselves walking silently through the hallways of the school.

The classroom they were led to was clearly the kindergarten. It had a faded red carpeted floor, well worn from years of kids playing on it. At the centre of the room were several large tables with plastic kiddie-style chairs sat around them. In the corner was a pile of mats probably for napping on. One wall was decorated in big letters, going from A to Z in order across the wall, each with a little picture of some object that matched the letter. ‘A’ had a big red apple drawn next to it, ‘B’ a yellow school bus and so on. The other wall was lined with cubbies, each with a laminated yellow name tag on it. Beside that was a very large toy chest overflowing with toys.

The children raced over to the cubbies, stuffing backpacks and lunch-boxes in them. Sure enough the trio all found ones with their names and dutifully put away their backpacks before heading for the tables. They chose one that still had three open seats before sitting together. Though the chairs were brightly coloured plastic and looked like they should be tiny things for kids, they were actually normal sized.

They had hoped to have some time to scheme and think up ways to fix their situations but the teacher, Miss Henshaw, ruined that by repeatedly checking to make sure they were making progress on their ‘work’. That was what she called it at least. The day began with simple colouring. At first Rachel had rolled her eyes as she watched the other two ‘children’ at their table, a red-headed girl with pigtails and the booger-eating boy from the playground, make messy scribbles with little attempt to stay within the lines. Then she discovered that it was harder than she thought. Her fingers weren’t coordinated properly. It was as though she were very drunk. It took all her concentration to stay, mostly, within the lines. Brian and Megan didn’t even try. They quickly found that it was pointless and in any case there was a feeling of freedom and relaxation they got from scribbling the crayons this way and that without worrying much about lines.

After colouring came snack time and each kid was given a carton of milk. Brian found himself wishing it was chocolate milk, then pushed aside the errant thought, reminding himself how degrading this all was. Just as he thought that he noticed the booger-eater was blowing bubbles in his milk with his straw. The ginger pig-tailed girl was laughing her head off at his antics. Brian watched the boy blowing bubbles and felt a strange curiosity roll over him. Experimentally, he blew air into his straw. His milk bubbled in a strangely satisfying way. Brian couldn’t help but let out a giggle. He blew more, making bigger and bigger bubbles. This was pretty fun!

“Brian, stop playing with your food! Show me you can eat like a big boy,” the teacher reprimanded, having appeared behind Brian while he was distracted with his bubble-blowing.

Brian was sure he turned as red as a cherry. He couldn’t believe he’d just been told off for playing with his food like a dumb little kid. At least snack time didn’t last long. Soon it was time for some proper lessons.