I was being a bad teacher. It was just after lunch; it was our class’s first naptime of the school year. The kids who needed protection were in fresh Pull-Ups. The blankets and nap mats were distributed. Quiet naptime music was playing just loud enough to be white noise and drown out the sound of passing classes walking around campus.
Within two weeks, this would all be routine and second nature to my students. Right now, however, I had three-year-olds who were new to my class giggling and playing peekaboo. I had returning four-year-olds, of course, but they weren’t even close to back in step with the usual routine, (and there’s a big difference to just turned four and not quite five).
If I was being a good teacher, I’d be politely but firmly coming down on them like a hammer. Maintaining proximity so they knew I was paying attention. Giving gentle reminders that now was a time to rest. That kind of thing.
The entire first two weeks for students was pretty much all about establishing routines and procedures. Gotta teach them the game before they can play. Gotta teach them the rules before they can follow them. This was regardless of grade level, but it was particularly important for my students who had never been in an academic setting before.
Tracy even volunteered to take her lunch in the classroom to help me. More eyes. More hands. An admittedly more intimidating presence. That kind of thing. Standard procedure, really.
If I was being a good teacher; I’d be hawk-eyed and almost on patrol until the darlings started lightly snoring. I’d be all business.
But I wasn’t being a good teacher. I had other business on my mind.
Tracy and I were instead in the little passage between my room and Beouf’s. The door was cracked open so we could hear any of them, and both Tracy and I could see in well enough, but we weren’t paying attention to the napping toddlers.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said.
“‘Bout what, Boss?” Tracy asked.
I chewed my lip for a second. I didn’t like bringing this up. It felt like taking an umbrella was inviting rain. “Remember what you told me about on Spring Break? Car ride over to my in-laws’ place?”
“Paintball?”
I had to resist the urge to smack my forehead. “The uh…” I was hoping Tracy wouldn’t make me say it. Hope was not on my side. “The adoption plan?”
“I’m not planning on-…” Tracy’s memory caught up to her. “Ooooh yeah. You mean in case things go bad.”
I nodded. I scratched the spot just beneath my eye. Another little itch popped up on the back of my neck. I scratched it. The quiet and the whispers and the anxiety and the paranoia.
“So I’ve been thinking…” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think maybe you could do something like that…” I almost left the last part unsaid. “…for me?”
Tracy frowned. “Like whaddya mean.”
“It’s just that…” my throat was already beginning to tighten up. “Last year I had more than a couple of close shaves.”
“Uh-huh.” I couldn’t tell if my assistant was just letting me get my thoughts out or was just having a complete ditz moment and not being able to read me.
“And the thought occurred to me that if I’m gonna get snatched up by an Amazon, it’s gonna most likely be here.”
Tracy winced. “Yeah. That makes sense.”
“But then the idea occurred to me. If I got snatched here…maybe you could adopt me?”
Tracy squinted at me, her face not suspicious as much as uncomprehending. “Why would I…?” Then it clicked. “Oooooooh…!”
The words came out in hushed whispers spoken in rapid fire with no breath in between them. “I know Tweeners don’t adopt Little normally, but a Tweener with an Amazon husband might raise fewer suspicions and it wouldn’t have to be long just long enough for me to get out of danger and meet back up with Cassie and we could leave town kind of like what you were planning with your husband and I don’t know who else to ask this favor and it’s probably never gonna be a thing but after last year it would just give me such a feeling of relief and security and-”
My assistant cut me off “Oh, Clark!” She kneeled down and gave me a hug. “Of course I’ll do that. If anybody tries to snatch you up, I’ll get you first and you can get out of dodge.”
“Thanks.” I needed to hear that. I blinked away tears while still in the hug. “Okay. I’m going to get back to work.”