Throughout the morning kids trickled in and out of the clinic. Nothing major, just getting usual stuff. Diabetes checks. ADHD meds. Routine upkeep stuff that the bureaucracy of school mandated be kept locked up and overseen in the clinic.
These were a relief because for a few precious minutes at a time I wasn’t the center of an Amazon’s attention. I still had to be on my toes, however.”
“Hey, Mr Gibson.”
“Hey Tyler.”
“What are you doing here?”
I caught the eye of the nurse. It might be considered ‘bad-form’ or ‘immature’ to tell a fifth grader that I was under investigation for something.
“Just waiting,” I said.
“Are you sick?”
I made a show of feeling my own face and forehead, like I was checking for a fever. Nothing too animated, just token effort. “I don’t think so.”
“Why are you in the clinic?”
“Mrs Brollish needs to talk to me later and the nurse agreed to keep me company while I waited.” All technically correct and nothing implying guilt on my part.
“Okay. Have a good day.”
“You too, Tyler.”
Lather, rinse, and repeat for about half a dozen kids.
A few hours in my stomach started growling loud enough to hear. “Would you like something to eat, Mr Gibson?”
“No thank you.”
“I don’t mind getting something from the cafeteria for you,” the nurse insisted. “I’ve got a tiny box of chocolates if you’d like a snack.”
“No thank you. I appreciate the thought, however.” That was a lie. Fuck the thought.
Next through the door, carrying a lunch tray was Tarnia. “Hey boss. Gossip is you were waiting for a meeting, so I brought you some lunch.” I sat up a little straighter and felt my heart practically jump up and tickle my uvula. I looked at the time. It was already past lunch and Tarnia was on her break. That meant it was nap time for the kids…but if Tarnia wasn’t watching the room, then…
She must have read my thoughts. “Don’t worry,” she told me. “Beouf is watching the kids. All of them. We’re still working on stuff and following the lesson plan…with a few modifications.”
I was confused. There weren’t supposed to be modifications. The fuck was happening? “What about the substitute?” I asked.
“Got called away for some kind of emergency,” Tarnia said. “Beouf volunteered to bring her class into our room and merge for the day.” My Tweener friend leaned in close and added in a whisper, “Good thing, too. She was up to something. Kept looking around the room like she was trying to find something.”
I remembered the diaper poking out of the stranger’s purse. “Or looking to hide something so it can be found later.” Tarnia nodded, and crab clapped her fingers together. If it weren’t for the Amazon in the room I might have been able to give her further instructions.
Speaking of which, the nurse cleared her throat. “Shouldn’t you be on break?”
Tarnia stood back up and left the tray on a chair beside me. “Yes ma’am. I was just dropping off lunch for Mr Gibson.”
“I already offered him lunch and he refused. Can he not make up his mind?” Typical. By most any other metric, both Tarnia and I should have at least as much if not more clout than this pill dispensing pencil pusher. She wasn’t even a real nurse as far as I knew. Her only real responsibilities were keeping track of meds and calling parents when their kids puked. Legally she couldn’t even give an aspirin. But she was an Amazon…
I raised my hand. “Actually,” I said, “I was waiting for my assistant to bring me lunch.”
Suspicious eyes stared back at us. She was connecting dots and we couldn’t look like we knew about this accusation ahead of time. “Yeah,” Tarnia bluffed. “That’s our go-to. Like whenever Mr Gibson has an I.E.P. meeting that overlaps with his lunch.” It was the best kind of lie: One that was based in confirmed truth. “Byyyyyye!”