The Perfect Solution-A Suspense of Choices (15 page)

"This will have to do," she said aloud. "It's not quite nine-forty and I am ready. It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes to get there. I'll be on time"

Going into the living room she took her jacket from the chair near the front door where she had thrown it in her weariness the night before and slipped her arms through the sleeves. On the floor near the chair sat her large backpack style purse and next to it sat her keys. Snatching up everything and scooting out of the door, Stephanie laughed and practically hopped, skipped, and danced down the sidewalk to her car. It was a shiny red Mitsubishi Eclipse. Her mother and stepfather had given her the used car as sort of a good-bye/early birthday gift. It was beautiful. Fully loaded and something she had been praying for to get for months. The insurance was a killer and that was why she had been searching so hard for a job. She climbed in, started the engine and drove off. She was so excited. It may have been cold, but the sun was shining, a sure sign that things were going great. And that was how she had felt until she had entered the classroom.

Walking through the door of The P. S. Center that morning had been her second time going there. On her first trip she had been just as impressed with the reception room as she was now. Knocking on the director's door, she was told by a voice from another room that Mrs. Wall had gone. Around the corner into the reception office sat the lady who smilingly introduced herself as Mrs. Julioux. She informed Stephanie of the room she would be working in and directed her to the class.

"You go straight down this hallway," Mrs. Julioux had stood in the middle of the hall and pointed down its length. "And when you get to that clock, make an immediate right. You'll be in the door of the class. Simple, if you have a problem press on the bell by the door of your class. I'll come and check it out." She had promised.

"Ha, that was a joke." Stephanie said aloud at the remembered promise.

Massaging her throbbing temples, Stephanie realized that she was no more relaxed than she had been, how many minutes ago? Ten minutes since that stupid woman had called and told her that little Brhin-Kristoffer Teddi was missing. I just can't believe this, me being blamed for everything. The lack of common sense at that center is a major factor in their problems. Mrs. Julioux had promised to answer my calls, but after my third time calling her down the hallway she had become belligerent.

"Listen," Mrs. Julioux had stood in the doorway of the class with her hands on her hips and swinging her head like a broken shudder. "I have no idea why Mrs. Wall called you to come and work here." She'd had the nerves to point her finger in Stephanie's face. "You obviously know nothing about working with children."

"You listen," Stephanie moved closer to the woman's face. "I was hired to work with children, not a 'mob'. There are too many children in this room. How in the world am I supposed to do anything with them?"

"Don't do 'anything' with them. Let them play. I can't keep coming back here to check on you."

"I don't want you to come here and 'check' on me. I want to know when the aid will be here. Most of these children need to be changed, as I guess you can tell by the odor in this room. And the rest need to go to the restroom."

"Look. This is what you do. You take all of them into the girls' restroom. The girls' restroom because it is larger," She made a face as if she were talking to an idiot when Stephanie pointed to the little boys. "Make them all sit on the floor. Let the ones that have to use it, use it and wash the hands of all of them. It will soon be lunchtime and they usually eat first. When you get back here, let them all sit on the floor and play with something. While they are doing that, you can change the diaper babies."

“Is that how it is always done?"

"I don't know?" She clicked her tongue and turned as if to walk out of the room. "I never have to come back here. Their teacher usually handles the class. Just do whatever you can. As soon as lunch is over they go down for a nap. So maybe you better put down their cot."

"And where are the cots?"

"They are in the second closet. Now, may I go and do my own work?"

"Go."

Bringing twenty-two little kids to the bathroom had not been a joy. The younger ones kept running out and into the hallway as if it was some great joke having a grown-up chasing them. As soon as she got them back in the rest room, the little pigmies ran out when her back was turned. Finally, Stephanie closed the restroom door. When the door was closed they screamed and cried, but she ignored them. At least she had tried. She played singing games with them and did whatever she could to make them laugh. Their little voices echoed around and around the room and into her brain, giving her a tremendous pain. All of the bending, snapping, unsnapping. Buttoning and unbuttoning. Pulling up and pushing down of tiny clothes had tried her nerves. And the little voices saying 'my mommy said do it like this', almost made her want to scream, but she had kept her humor.

Once they were back in the classroom, things only seemed to get worse. It took almost thirty minutes to change the 'diaper babies' because she had to keep stopping to control the many little tiffs that broke out between the toddlers. Some of them could barely put together two words and yet they were in the room with three year olds and struggling for every toy their damnedest to survive. They had no idea of the concept of sharing. This made the 'playing with blocks' thing a major experiment in surviving mental torture. The little guys threw them all over the room and fought with anyone that even tried to help clean up. This is when she noticed Brhin-Kristoffer Teddi. He had been so obedient. He and Melody had each filled their shirts with blocks and brought them to a table. There they had stayed and played until all of the children had been changed, cots had been put down and lunch was on the table. At first Stephanie had thought Brhin could be no more than two years old, but he soon straightened her out.

"I'm three and a half. My momma says I will probably grow taller when I get older. My brain is this big," He spread his arms out as wide as they could go. "And my momma says for right now it can take the place of height. She always says 'attitude is more ‘portant than altitude'." He pronounced each word proudly.

"Your momma is really smart."

"Yes. This little girl's name is Melody." He pointed to the child standing next to him. "My name is Brhin-Kristoffer. We can help you if you want."

They had been such great help at telling her which sipper cup belonged to which kid, who could eat what, and where each kid slept that some of the pain in her head started to ease.

The only part of the day that could be counted as of any use had been naptime. While the children were asleep, it had given her time to clean the room. Crawling under tables and around children, she had been able to find every loose colored Lego block. When that had been done, she took a couple of aspirin from her purse and downed it with a drink from the child sized fountain set in the corner of the room. Amazingly, the fountain had not been a source of problem that day. The children would wait their turn to get a drink and go on about their business. The fact that it was accessible probably staved off war.

Once the children were lying on their mats, Stephanie had searched for a clear space in the room so that she could sit and maybe read a few pages from the book in her purse. Finding one that faced the children and the door, she leaned her head against the wall and let out a tired breath.

Man, she thought. I know I need a job, but I don't believe I would be able to handle a day like today, everyday. This was ridiculous. There is no order or control in the room. I don't know how the other teacher did it. Nothing was labeled. More than likely, the diaper babies are wearing each other's diapers and someone's parents would be angry. They'll just have to get over it. She closed her eyes and before she knew it, it was time to get up. One of the toddlers was crying and when she picked it up to change it, everyone in the room seemed to jump up on one accord. And chaos had reigned, the results not bearing repeating.

Shaking her head in disgust at the remembered scene, Stephanie went outside as a last resort and looked in her car to see if her keys had been forgotten in the ignition. Finding it in there she ran back to close the apartment door. When she was rushed or irritated, forgetting things was a major problem. Leaving the key in the ignition had become a bad habit, as was leaving the car unlocked. Climbing into the car, Stephanie slammed the car's door and opened it just as quickly when she realized her purse was hanging out by its strap.

"Damn it. What was I suppose to do?" She questioned the reflection staring at her from the car's rearview mirror. "I sent a note to the office; I talked to Mrs. Wall about the incident and described the woman that took the child. Someone should have contacted that mother hours ago. Getting in touch with her was not my job." She started the car's engine. "I didn't even know the boy's last name and after that big collision between those children, all thought of him just left my mind. I received no help from anyone in The P. S. Center. I was expected to clean the room, entertain the children and then be aware of each little problem and every person that entered the room. When I asked for assistance everyone looked at me as if I were losing my mind. God, and now I have to worry about the state of that mother's mind. What in God's name could I have been thinking?" She asked herself again. Shifting to drive, she pressed the accelerator and drove off at great speed.

“
Brhin-Kristoffer
”

Brhin watched as the lady once again slipped her arms through the sleeve of her coat. He sighed. He didn't want to go out again. This would be her fourth time going out of the house and every time she had gone out she had made him go with her. Mona claimed to only want to make him happy and to prove this, whenever Brhin acted like he would mention his mother or put on his 'sad little puppy face' as she called it, he received another surprise. Twice she had dragged him through the kitchen and out and into the bone chilling cold of the garage. Once there, she had taken yet another gaily wrapped package from the car's trunk. There were a lot of them. Ranging in various sizes and decorated with gaily-colored wrappings. She had enlightened him to the fact that for months whenever she had seen something she thought he would enjoy, she had bought it, wrapped it, and put it in the trunk. On that last trip she had removed two packages. One small and the other, which was wrapped in shiny blue paper was much too large for him to hold and she had carried it into the house.

Mona watched Brhin from across the room. After they returned to the house and he had colored for a while in the book from the smallest package, Brhin climbed back in the recliner and absently stared at the television. He had been sitting for ten minutes with his head resting on the arm of the chair, chin propped on the back of his hand. He looked miserable. He hadn't shown a glimmer of a smile for hours and she was beginning to get miserable herself. She just couldn't figure out what else she should do to make him happy. The gifts only worked for fleeting moments and then he was squeeze his little body back into his little morose position. Mona had always been under the impression that children were simple individuals. When they are hungry, feed them. When they are tired, put them to bed. When they are unhappy, give them something to do and when they are bad, whip their ass, simple.

"You look so sad Brhin what's the matter? Brhin," she called his name again. "You don't have to tell me what the problem is. I just don't like seeing you look so unhappy? Look, come over here." She moved from the chair where she was sitting to go sit on the floor in front of the sofa. Resting her back to the seat she took the large package from its cushions as she slid down. "Brhin, if I call you again, I'm going to come over there and then you'll really be unhappy," she threatened. "Now, get your little butt off of that chair and get over here." She thumped a spot on the carpet near her right leg and then coughed as dust particles flew into her face and up her nostrils. "You can open this package. I bet you are really going to love what is in this one." Mona smiled secretly. "It’s something you've wanted for a long time."

Shrugging his shoulders and not trying to hide his curiosity, Brhin hopped from the chair and walked to where Mona was sitting. Slowly squatting to her level, he reached for the package. Grabbing his hand, Mona tugged hard at his arm until he was in a sitting position.

"I have a gift for you."

She put the box in his lap and sat back with her arms folded; barely restraining herself from joining into the tearing of the wrappings, Mona smiled in anticipation of the joy she knew he would feel after he opened the package. Brhin, all wrapped up in the blissful wonder of opening the box, ignored everything going on around him. Finally he had opened the last flap of the box and was overjoyed when he found that it contained a large remote control car. Beside himself with ecstasy, he jumped up and down, oohing and aahing.

"Come here, Brhin. Let me put the batteries in it for you." Mona was sitting on the floor smiling up at Brhin as he stood a few feet away examining the large rubber wheels of the toy car. "Bring the box with you. I put the batteries inside." She happily laughed at the way he threw the wrappings around the room in his excitement to find the batteries. "Do you like it?"

"Yes, yes." Brhin danced around her in a small circle. "Hurry, hurry.... Can I drive it? Will you show me how to drive it? I see. Let me do it." He impatiently reached for the controller and she placed it in his hands. "T'ank you." He laughed.