Kindergarten Baby: A Novel (7 page)

“Rhetorical question?” asked Judy peering over her reading glasses. “Or would you like an answer?”

“Definitely rhetorical. No, it’s actually a stupid question. We do this because this is what we do.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “It’s what everybody does, and the final performance will be just fine. I know that. It’s just all this commotion and confusion is so unsettling.” She wrung her hands. “And I don’t have my kids’ report cards done yet. I’ve barely just begun.”

“Oh, well, that would make any teacher a bit anxious. You are doing the district computer version, right?”

“You know, I thought about it, but it seemed easier to do them by hand, so I could do most of the work at home. The time just got away from me and—”

“Do you have all your on-going assessment notes?”

“Sure. I’m very organized when it comes to assessment.”

“Do you want to get it done today?”

Lindsey raised her face to the ceiling and laughed. “Oh, right! Like that’s possible.”

Judy winked. “Be in my room at 3:15 with your assessment notes, student journals, a blank disc, and chocolate. Lots of chocolate. You will be done today.”

“Thanks, Judy!” It seemed too good to be true. “You’re a life saver…‌or should I say a Hershey’s Kiss?”

As the rest of the classes clamored in for the rehearsal, the noise level rose considerably. One of the fifth grade classes sat up front, which was a definite no-no. Kinder classes always sat in front, then first grade, then second grade, and so on. Everyone knew this. But for some reason, one class was way out of order today, and it was seated in Lindsey’s spot. To make matters worse, Lindsey had forgotten to have her students bring their own chairs. Kinder classes always brought their own little chairs.

“Excuse me,” Lindsey said, attempting to get some of the fifth graders’ attention. “Why are you sitting up front today?”

At first the children completely ignored her. After all, she was just a kindergarten teacher. What could she know? How to color? Take naps? Finger paint? Play with sand and water? What power could she have?

“Where is your teacher?” she tried again.

Still no response. Either they were deaf or she was invisible.

She set one hand on her hip. “Who here likes Katy Perry?”

Hands shot up as all the girls and a few of the boys suddenly noticed her. Amazing.

“I like her, too,” she said. “And I like to sit up close during a concert or any performance just like you are doing right now.”

“We hate having to sit in the back all the time. We can’t see,” a small fifth grader whined.

“I know just how you feel,” Lindsey replied, and since she was only 5’3” she knew what she was talking about. “But look how little these students are compared to you.”

The kinder kids were masters of pouting and donning sad dog-eyes. Now the entire class used their powers at full blast, looking pitiful and forlorn as they blinked at the fifth graders.

“Okay! Geez! Make them stop!”

“We can’t take the pressure,” another agreed.

One boy started to walk back, and he signaled for his friends to follow. “Come on, guys. Let’s go get their stupid little chairs for them.”

When everyone was ready, Lindsey played a simple chord on her electric keyboard and Judy conducted while the little angels sang. Behind the scenes, Emma tried to organize the other children. Joseph jumped toward the front of the stage and started some sort of gyrating, tap dancing, break dancing routine that had absolutely nothing to do with the performance. Bobby sulked in the dark, far corner of the stage behind the backdrop, and Willy…‌well, Willy, for reasons unknown, took off his belt and whirled it above his head as fast as he could, his eyes crazed and intense. The students around him ducked out of the way to avoid getting hit. It actually got a little dangerous.

From experience, Lindsey knew that asking Willy to stop would not work. Demanding that he stop would merely begin a power struggle that couldn’t be won by anyone of authority. Physically forcing him to stop could have dire consequences. When this child became enraged, his strength seemed to quadruple. But she had other strategies to try.

Lindsey halted her piano playing, leaving a sudden vacuum in the room. She stood and placed a finger over her lips, giving the “quiet” sign to everyone, then moved her palms toward the floor several times, signaling for the rest of the choir to sit down. A curious hush settled over the once squirming, wiggling audience.

The entire school, including over three hundred pairs of eyes, focused on the tiny, impulsive kindergarten boy. The silence finally grabbed Willy’s attention, and Lindsey saw the moment when he made the connection between the whirling object over his head and his own arm attached to it. The belt fell to the stage floor, and Laura quickly retrieved it.

Willy scowled at the rows of wide-eyed students and shouted, “What are you lookin’ at?”

“Take it from the top,” instructed Lindsey. “One, two, ready, sing.” The singers got back to their song, the audience resumed its wiggling, and Willy stood perfectly still.

***

The temperature had dropped far below normal for Tucson, though it still wasn’t winter weather, according to outsiders. Nevertheless, old pueblo residents got out their winter clothing, taking advantage of the rare cold spell.

Shawna came slinking down the hallway in a fur coat. “Finally, I can wear this,” she said. “Come on. Let’s take the doggy for a walk.”

Anthony, still easily aroused by her flamboyant, sexual ways, grinned. “Should I ask what you’re wearing under that fur coat?”

“Only if you want to know.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I already know. Just how far did you want to walk the dog?”

“It’s more of a ‘how long?’ question really,” she replied, ramping up her seductive tone a notch or two.

“All right, then. I’ll play along. How long of a dog walk does my baby want to take?” he asked, lowering his own voice.

She shrugged. “Just long enough to be seen by a few people and to cool off. I’m getting hot in this coat already.”

“So take it off,” Anthony suggested, going along with the provocative game of the hour.

Shawna pouted, batting her long eyelashes. “Not yet. I’ve just put it on. Come on. I’ll make it worth your while,” she teased.

“You always do.”

She jangled the leash and called, “Here, Rover.”

That was one thing Anthony didn’t like about Shawna. She always called Wendell another name, like Rover or just plain Dog, and she gave him attention only when it suited her needs. Her lack of affection or even appreciation for his lovable dog baffled him. Wendell was a great dog.

They ventured into the cold night air, the doctor, the dog, and the stripper. Anthony stared at her feet as they walked.

“How can you walk in those shoes?” he asked. “You know how hard they are on your back. After all the treatments you’ve been through for back and leg pain, you amaze me.”

She smiled sweetly. “And I hope to keep amazing you for a very long time, darling.” She flapped a dismissive hand at him. “You know I like to look good, love. High heels are a woman’s legs’ best friend. You’d complain even worse if I went out in Birkenstocks. Besides,” she said, stroking his arm, “I rather like all those adjustments you give me.”

Only the clicking of the stilettos and the jingle of Wendell’s collar broke the quiet of the night, though a discriminating listener might hear other noises of the desert around them: a neighbor’s horse whinnying, the hoot of an owl announcing its location, or a distant coyote yipping. Anthony took Shawna’s hand while they walked. He wanted to talk‌—‌to
really
talk, like he had in the past with Lindsey.

“You know,” he said gently, “I don’t feel good about what we’re doing to Lindsey. Maybe we’re rushing things.”

Her reply was snide. “Ah, yes. Your little fairy tale princess has come up in conversation once again. You do know that she doesn’t have a monopoly on the ‘happily ever after’ thing, right? Every woman wants that. You’re
my
handsome prince now, and you know what they say: ‘You snooze, you lose.’ Well, I don’t intend to lose. So why don’t you come over here, baby, and feel good about this,” she purred. She leaned against the nearest tree trunk and let the coat fall open, exposing just enough naked skin to avert Anthony’s emerging conscience.

Wendell, who had been sitting up straight, his gaze shifting eagerly back and forth as each of them spoke, now sighed a long, disgusted sigh. He laid down, set his head on his paws, then waited, and waited, and waited. Again, he was a mere prop: the watchdog used to facilitate tonight’s little fantasy.

CHAPTER NINE

The school hallways buzzed with excitement, brimming over with parents and students, all dressed in their Sunday best. Little girls still wore pretty dresses, but most of the older girls wore skinny-legged pants, glittery tops, and sparkly shoes with high heels they could barely walk in. To Lindsey’s eyes, far too much skin could be seen. Ignoring the dress code and feeling like rock stars, they looked ready to put on a show. No one mentioned that they looked like ten-year-olds playing dress-up.

“Thirty minutes till show time!” came the announcement over the intercom.

Lindsey’s classroom phone rang, and she picked it up.

“Mrs. Sommerfield? Sorry to bother you, but there’s a gentleman in the office that needs to see you for a minute. He said it was very important.”

Lindsey glanced at the restless children. “I’ll be right there,” she said, somewhat annoyed. This was bad timing.

She stepped into the office, curious. A man stepped toward her. “Mrs. Sommerfield?”

“Yes?”

“I have some important documents for you. Good evening.”

Then he was gone. A dark, nauseating sensation spread over her, like black storm clouds taking over a blue sky. She peeked into the manila envelope until she saw official looking seals and the word “Divorce” in the title, then she closed it again.

She was barely aware of what she was doing as she placed one foot in front of the other, heading toward the cafeteria. Young, high pitched squeals of “Miss Lindsey! Miss Lindsey!” went unnoticed. Then the house lights went out, the stage lights went up, and the principal began her opening speech. When she was done, the audience clapped, school children resumed their chatter, babies squealed and cried, and parents tried to quiet the younger children around them.

Lindsey withdrew into the depths of her personal suffering, and that was not a good place to be. Her head swam, her ears seemed to be stuffed with something, and her eyes blurred with unbearable visions of Anthony and Shawna together. Then Laura was there, holding her hand, leading her from the school. The five-mile drive home was quiet. Lindsey vaguely heard Laura’s voice, but she could make nothing of what her friend was saying. Without a word, she handed Laura the divorce papers.

So it really was over. Anthony was gone for good. Shawna, the young, beautiful stripper, had won.

Laura brought Lindsey inside, helped her get into a comfy set of sweats, then lit the fireplace. Once her friend was settled in, she brought her a glass of wine.

“Lindsey, talk to me. I can’t leave you like this.”

“Why not? Anthony did.”

Laura jerked back, and Lindsey wished she hadn’t said that. But it was out, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

“Hey friend, don’t start comparing me to that…‌Anthony.”

Lindsey shook her head. “Please go, Laura. I just want to sleep right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Judy’s going to come by as soon as she can leave the students.”

“Tell her not to bother. I’ll be all right.”

Laura stood, resigned. “Well, if you say so. But call me if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll call you first thing tomorrow. We’ve got some final vacation details to work out, you know.”

Under normal circumstances, Lindsey would have enjoyed the mild buzz she was getting from the wine and the warmth of the fire, but not tonight. She didn’t want to be comfortable. She grabbed the bottle of wine and unsteadily, almost catatonically, shuffled out to her backyard, out into the chilly night. She slid onto one of the cushioned patio loungers and stared up at the twinkling, distant stars. They were just another enemy in her life tonight. They, too, had betrayed her. How many times has she wished upon a star?

The mere thought of Anthony and Shawna together made Lindsey feel hollow, worthless, and sick to her stomach. Depression spread through her entire being like anesthesia before a surgical procedure. Except this time, when she awoke, nothing would be better. Nothing would be fixed. She’d be just another lonely, unneeded, unwanted woman, soon to be divorced.

Her thoughts sank lower, to a darker, disjointed place where the present entwined with the past. Frightening scenes from her second foster home drifted in, and she saw her twelve-year-old self sitting at the top of the stairs, watching the men. Her foster dad’s friends had always shown up for a “boys’ night in” whenever her foster mom left for a “girls’ night out.” The little girl had wondered what all the commotion was about‌—‌the laughing, the whistling‌—‌since they were just watching the TV, so she’d snuck downstairs to take a peek, then gasped in shock when she saw the images of women‌—‌naked women doing nasty things: spreading their legs, touching themselves, shaking their tops and their bottoms. She stared in disbelief until one of the men noticed her.

He took a step toward her, leering. “Bet your new girl’s almost ready to dance with a pole,” he told her foster father. Lindsey fled to her room and vowed never to sneak out again.

The remembered images brought Shawna to mind, and against her will she pictured the tall, shapely redhead from the poster wrapped around a pole.

Sleep was her only sanctuary, but it eluded her. She reached for an apple she’d set on the patio table, left over from her school lunch. The bright, shiny apple triggered Lindsey’s fairy tale button, pushed her into once-upon-a-time mode. She picked up the apple, declared it to be poison, and transformed herself into Snow White by taking a deep, satisfying bite. Another bite, and another, but the effects of the imaginary poison never set in.