Beouf stood up and walked towards the back of my classroom; back towards hers. “Come on. Let me show ya.” Her grin was the very definition of ‘shit-eating’.
As the three of us crossed the short divide between my room and Beoufs, I heard voices singing. “Chō, chō ha ni tomaru.” Was that Mrs Zoge? “Happa ni akitara sakura to asobu.” And who was singing with her? “Sakura no hana no ue de.” Ivy? “Teishi shite saisei shite saisei shite teishi”
Amazon mother and adopted daughter waited for us; the two of them giggling happily as Ivy bounced on her mommy’s knee; playing some kind of hand game. It would have been sweet if it was an actual mother and child. Mrs Zoge saw us come in and gently slid Ivy off of her.
“Mommy…” Ivy whined a bit.
Zoge looked down at her Little doll. “Grown-ups are talking, my love.” She handed her a rattle. “Play with this.” Ivy looked at me and waved a bit before going to shake the rattle. “I assume things went well and that we missed nothing,” Zoge said.
“Looks like we got ‘em all,” Beouf said.
“Beouf, I’m not following you,” Janet said.
I pointed to Grange. “Same.”
It was Zoge who replied. “The substitute,” she said. “I’ve never seen her here before.” She spoke slowly and quietly. When others chose their words carefully it sounded forced or sneaky. Now that Zoge was doing it, there was an almost musical quality to her voice. Maybe it was the Yamatoan accent.
“Me neither,” I agreed. “Subs come and go, but she wasn’t what I’d call one of the regulars.”
“New substitutes,” Zoge said, “they get lost. They find things and put them back in the wrong places because they do not know any better.” Her face was straight and plain, a mask of tranquility. Beouf was already starting to crack up and covering her mouth with the palm of her hand.
Ah. So that’s what happened. “And what did this new substitute misplace?” I didn’t put any extra emphasis for sarcasm. There was no need here. Not now. I’d won. We’d won. Me and my friends. Old and new.