The Teacher (15 page)

Then where the hell is he?
Marcus wanted to know.

“Mr. Lewis why don’t you go
outside. See if he’s playing with the kids on the playground equipment.” Marcus
moved on Ms. Hewitt’s order and dodged the little bodies running around the gym
floor. He found the supervising adult outside and told her he was looking for
his son, Brayden.

“I haven’t seen him,” she
said with a dismissive shrug.

Marcus could feel his blood
begin to boil. “Well, he should be here,” he boomed and stalked off ready to
cover every square inch of this place.

*     *     *

Emma turned back down the
hallway. The other children had returned to their play, except Naomi and her friend,
Ashley, from Susan’s class. Both girls took her hands. Emma tried to understand
how Brayden could have gone missing. She was terrified—where had he gone, what
could have happened?

If she had been here today,
this never would have happened. Losing a child is beyond the worst nightmare
for a teacher and the pit in her stomach was growing as she walked down the
hallway. Naomi and Ashley dropped her hands as she poked her head in the boy’s
bathroom, “Brayden are you in there?”

No answer, but just to be sure
she stepped inside to confirm the room was empty.

Next, she checked the coatroom.
The room was tiny, a former janitorial closet lit with a single bulb. A series
of hooks lined the perimeter of the room, about three feet up the wall. The
hooks were rarely used—the kids usually threw their backpacks and coats into a
pile on the floor—leaving a heaping mess. Stepping inside Emma scanned the pile
and saw a blue Transformer backpack propped against the back wall. It might not
be Brayden’s—his wasn’t the only Transformer backpack she’d seen traveling the
halls of the school—but it definitely looked like the one he carried. A blue
and black fleece jacket lay next to the backpack—it looked like Brayden’s too.

She lifted the backpack and
there was Brayden sound asleep on the floor, his face was pink and she could
see the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“I found him,” she shouted
as joy exploded inside her like a firework. “I found him,” she said again to
Naomi and Ashley. “Go and tell Miss Lisa and Brayden’s dad that I found him.”
The girls ran off, holding hands, and happy to do the bidding of their teacher.

“Brayden,” she said softly
and shook him, but he didn’t rouse. “Brayden,” she said a little louder, then
touched her hand to his forehead. He burned with a fever. She shook him again
and this time, his eyes fluttered open. “Brayden, it’s Ms. Hewitt. Are you
okay?” He sat up, his eyes half closed and his head bobbed forward as he
nodded. Emma dropped to her knees and gathered his warm body on her lap. His head
fell on her shoulder and he was fast asleep again. Emma blew out a huge sigh of
relief. Brayden was okay. She rocked him in her lap. Mr. Lewis arrived, stopping
in the doorway of the coatroom. His eyes went from his son to her—worry
replaced the panic in his eyes.

“He’s okay,” she said
calmly. “He feels like he’s running a fever, though.” She stroked the hair back
from Brayden’s forehead. Brayden’s eyes fluttered open. He looked up at her.

“Why were you gone today?”
he asked and Emma let out a little laugh.

“Because I was helping take
care of my very sick nieces.”

Mr. Lewis squatted down next
to them. “You okay, Bray?”

Brayden nodded and licked
his parched lips.

“You don’t look so good,
pal. You should have called me. I would have picked you up early. It’s no good
to be at school when you’re sick.” Mr. Lewis’ voice was so gentle and soothing
and his blue eyes were soft with compassion. Emma was surprised and warmed by
the sound of his voice.

“But you said we couldn’t go
to the Blazer game tonight if I had a stomach ache.”

A look of recollection
passed over Mr. Lewis’s face and he nodded. “You’re right I did say that.” He
looked at Emma, “He’s been complaining about a stomach ache all week, I just
thought he was trying to get out of coming to school.”

“We’ve had a lot of kids out
sick this week,” Emma said. “Looks like Brayden finally caught it.”

Mr. Lewis nodded as Emma
passed Brayden off to him and then they both stood. Emma picked up Brayden’s
coat and backpack and followed Mr. Lewis out into the hall. Brayden’s head rested
on his dad’s shoulder.

Emma handed over Brayden’s
things.

“Thank you,” he said with
genuine appreciation.

“You’re welcome.”

Mr. Lewis hesitated. “Can I
offer you a ride home?”

“No, no,” Emma said. “You
don’t need to do that.”

“It’s no trouble. Your place
is right on our way. It’s the least I can do for your help.” Mr. Lewis
tightened his grip on his son with one hand and rubbed his back with the other.
Emma was touched again by the softness in his voice.

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll
just be a minute.” She had more work to do in her classroom, but the search for
Brayden had drained her. Her throat was beginning to burn and her body ached,
probably the onset of the flu. She wouldn’t get much done if she stayed.

Mr. Lewis smiled at her, the
curved lines around his mouth deepened and Emma realized it was the first time she
had ever seen him smile. It suited him, softening his features and Emma was
struck by his good looks. Was it him or a fever coming on that was responsible for
the heated sensation she felt right now?

“I’m right out front,” he
motioned toward the front door. “We’ll wait for you.”

*     *     *

Brayden was asleep in the
backseat when Ms. Hewitt slipped into the passenger seat. Marcus eased the car
onto the street, neither one of them spoke until he pulled to a stop in front
of her apartment building.

“Thanks for the ride,” Ms.
Hewitt said quietly and looked back at Brayden who was still sleeping.

“You’re welcome,” he said,
feeling like the words were wrong. He was the one indebted to her. He should
say something more. “Oh here,” he said, remembering the tickets in his pocket
and pulled them out. “I guess we won’t be needing these tonight. You’re welcome
to them, if you have somebody you’d like to go with.”

“Thank you,” she said, accepting
the tickets on her way out of the car.

Marcus watched her walk
inside and didn’t pull away until he saw the third story light come on.

He drove off thinking about
how lucky he was that Ms. Hewitt had been at the school. He was afraid to think
about what he might have done to the other two teachers there, who didn’t seem
to care one way or another if Brayden was found. Ms. Hewitt jumped right in and
helped him find his son.

Marcus had been terrified,
feeling so out of control, like the night, he stood by and watched the firemen
search his home for his family. It was a terribly helpless feeling, one that
Marcus didn’t wear well.

At least when Marcus had
stood on the street watching his home turn to an inferno he knew where Brayden
was, albeit trapped inside, he had a location. And he wasn’t alone, Marcus was
able to picture him inside with Vanessa. But tonight the vast possibilities of
a location rendered him almost broken. And the horrific images of him being
lost and alone or worse abducted by some senseless criminal made him sick
inside. He’d felt himself unraveling out there on the playground as he searched
each child’s face in the waning light and looked into every shadowed space
until he heard the little girl screaming, “Ms. Hewitt found him! Ms. Hewitt
found him!”

Marcus parked the car and
loaded his arms with his briefcase, Brayden’s backpack and his sleeping son.
The elevator pinged at his floor and he glanced at Brayden as he stepped off.
He kicked the door to his condo closed behind him, careful not to let it slam
and wake up Brayden. Slowly, he climbed the stairs to the master bedroom.

He laid Brayden down on the
king-size bed and reached out to touch him—to make sure he was real, safe and
sound in their home. Marcus’s arms shook from carrying the weight of his son
into the condo, but he needed the tangible reassurance. The heat from Brayden’s
skin reminded Marcus of the fever and he went in search of the thermometer and
medicine. He stopped in Brayden’s room and found a neatly folded pair of pajamas
in his drawer.

He took Brayden’s
temperature and gave him a dose of medication, dropping the liquid in his
mouth. Next, Marcus took Brayden’s shoes and socks off. Brayden moved like a
rag doll as Marcus worked at pulling his shirt over his head and replaced it
with his pajama top. The pants were easier to wiggle him free of and the pajama
bottoms slid right on.

Covering Brayden, he went
downstairs and heated his dinner in the microwave. He ate standing up over the
sink and listened for Brayden. He finished his meal in a few bites and left the
plate in the sink, returning upstairs. He set a glass of water on the bedside
table and again touched his son, gratitude flooding his every pore.

Marcus changed into
sweatpants and a t-shirt before pulling the blankets back on his side of the
bed. He fluffed the pillows up against the headboard and grabbed the remote. He
flipped the television on and found the channel airing tonight’s basketball
game. Brayden stirred next to him at the noise.

“Hey, Bray,” Marcus said. “Let’s
get you a drink of water.”

He reached for the glass and
held Brayden up so he could sip the water.

“You want to watch the
game?” Marcus asked, setting the glass back down. “Maybe we’ll see Ms. Hewitt
sitting in our seats.”

Brayden rubbed his eyes.
“Yeah,” he mumbled and grabbed a pillow, throwing it on Marcus’s lap, lying
horizontally across the bed. Marcus stroked his son’s hair and thought of how
Ms. Hewitt had done the same thing to him back at the school. She’d held Brayden
so tenderly. She had a gentle touch, a way with children that he admired. It
was a foreign concept to him. His own mother left the child rearing to their
nanny, Rosa. Vanessa had been like his mother in that way too. Having an infant
who relied on her was tough and that’s why Marcus hired Rosa, to help Vanessa
while he worked his long hours at the office.

Marcus realized Brayden
hadn’t had many caring women in his life and was thankful Ms. Hewitt had found
a way into his son’s life.

Brayden’s eyes fluttered
closed again, when Marcus’s cell phone rang. He snatched it up, not wanting the
ring to disturb Brayden.

“Hello,” he answered, muting
the game on television.

“Hi, this is Ms. Hewitt. I
was just calling to check on Brayden.”

“Oh, well,” Marcus replied,
pleasantly surprised. “He’s doing fine. He’s right here next to me and we’ve
got the game on. Are you there yet?”

“No, I decided to stay home.
My roommate is using the tickets. He was pretty excited. I hope you don’t mind
me giving them away.”

“Not at all,” Marcus
reassured her. “I guess you’re not a big Blazers fan?”

“It’s not that. I think I’m
coming down with the flu too,” she said.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Marcus
said with genuine empathy.

“It’s just part of the
territory when you’re a teacher.”

“I bet it is,” Marcus said
and then there was a pause.

“I want you to know how
sorry I am about what happened today. If I had been there, this never would
have happened. I probably would have noticed Brayden feeling sick earlier in
the day and I would’ve sent him home. I’m just so sorry.”

“This wasn’t your fault and
the important thing is that Brayden is okay.”

“You’re right,” she agreed.

“Where were you today?” he
asked feeling bold.

“Oh, I was taking care of my
nieces. They’ve been sick too and my sister needed help so,” she stopped and
Marcus heard her pull back from the phone and sneeze.

“Your sister is lucky to
have you,” Marcus said, thinking to himself how he’d felt lucky to have her
around too. “I really appreciate you calling.”

“Of course,” Ms. Hewitt
said. “I also wanted you to know that I’ll be talking with Mrs. Wolf and the
after-school teachers to put some procedures in place, so we can keep better
track of our kids. Trust me, this will never happen again.”

“I do trust you,” Marcus
said, surprising himself as the words came out.

Silence hung on the line.

“Ms. Hewitt, can I ask you
something?” Marcus looked down at Brayden’s innocent face. It wasn’t going to
be easy to ask her this question, but he had to. He just admitted that he
trusted her and now it was time to act on it, for his son.

“Sure,” she said.

“Do you really think this
testing for Brayden is necessary? Do you really think it will help him?” He
knew he wasn’t going to like the answer, but he waited for it.

Ms. Hewitt took a heavy
breath on the other end of the phone, “Yes, I do.”

“Alright then,” he said,
swallowing hard. “I will be in on Monday, after Spring Break, to sign the
consent forms and you will have my full cooperation.”