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When Shane became a third-grade teacher, his tolerance for children and the things that came out of their mouths heightened. He no longer blinked an eye at some of the conversations that would occur in his classroom between his students; although, there were times that he wasn't sure whether or not to laugh or scold. Today happened to be one of those moments.
During independent reading time, Shane had been circling the classroom to ensure that everyone was on task. What he doesn't expect, though, is for one of his students by the name of Beatrice Bergara to stand up in her chair, look down at another student, and say, " That's why your dad's in a forking wheelchair, Annalise !"
And—okay. Children do indeed say the darndest things, but this? Was Beatrice Bergara the spawn of Satan? After standing in the middle of the classroom in complete and utter silence, Shane ordered Beatrice to sit in the time-out corner until he could get his thoughts together because... what the actual fuck? Shane had never had an issue with Beatrice before; whenever her babysitter would come to pick her up (being that the parents were, apparently, always on a tight schedule), Beatrice would give him the brightest smile and kindest wave out the door.
This side of Beatrice, however, Shane had never witnessed.
Toward the end of the day, Shane had pulled Annalise to the side to ensure that she was okay. The little girl tugged at one of her blond pigtails and shrugged her shoulders, her face pale-stricken when she glanced over at Beatrice. Beatrice sat at her desk with her eyes glued to the table, her legs kicking back and forth as she waited for her punishment. Shane didn't want to have to get both of their parents involved, so he was grateful for Annalise to have agreed to talk with Beatrice tomorrow during breakfast time (with his presence of course).
After Annalise went home, Shane walked over to Beatrice's desk and took a seat beside her. He had already called home, and the babysitter had told him that her father would be on his way. Convenient.
"So, Bea, I've called home already," Shane said. "Your dad should be on his way."
Beatrice visibly tensed at the mention of her father. "Oh."
"How about you tell me what happened so that we can get your story straight, yeah?" When Beatrice shrugged her shoulders, Shane sighed. "I know that you're a good kid, Bea. I want to be able to help you and understand you better. What you said to Annalise today wasn't nice."
"I know," Beatrice said with a frown. "I'm sorry."
She did truly look remorseful, and it warmed Shane's heart, but he knew that discipline had to come into play one way or another. "We can wait until your dad gets here to discuss what happened, but as your punishment, you have to sit out from recess for two days. Now, I can't guarantee that I'm too much fun on my break, but I'm good company."
A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal a man wearing a loose white t-shirt, tight gray skinny jeans, and a pair of black sunglasses. He didn't look a day over thirty, but he did look as though he had just gotten out of bed due to his ruffled hair. Only when Shane saw the cane in the man's hand did he realize the point of the sunglasses. The man was blind. This was Beatrice's dad.
"Tris?" Mr. Bergara said into the silence.
"Dad!" Beatrice exclaimed. She stood up immediately and ran over to him, her little arms wrapping around his waist. Her father looked a bit thrown off at first, but he broke out into a smile and hugged her back. "I missed you. Let's go home now."
"Ha, very funny. Where's your teacher?"
Shane stood up from the desk and hastily made his way over. "Mr. Bergara, my name is Mr. Madej. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"It's a pleasure to meet you too." Ryan held his hand out for Shane to shake, and wow. His hand is super soft. "I've never been called in before, so I'm a bit worried. Can I get a rundown of what happened?"
Beatrice, petrified, looked up at Shane, who subtly nodded his head, a sign for her to speak on her behalf. " Well ..." Beatrice took a step back from her father so that she could hold her hands behind her back and fiddle with them. "I yelled at Annalise and said, ' that's why your dad's in a wheelchair. '"
At first, there was silence. Hearing it again made Shane shift awkwardly from one foot to another, but his face remained stagnant, professional as he opened his mouth to speak: "Beatrice wouldn't tell me the reason why without you here."
"Beatrice," said Mr. Bergara leisurely. "Why would you say that to Annalise? I thought that you two were best friends."
"Well, during independent reading, I—I wanted to tell someone about the surgery you're getting soon... how you're gonna be able to see again," Beatrice explained, and it suddenly felt like Shane had been invited inside of a conversation he had no part of. "Annalise started bragging about how the rest of her family had 20/20 vision, and how the surgery probably wouldn't work because she's heard of it. She probably didn't mean anything by it, but I just got so angry." God. Shane swore that he could hear his heartbreak. He was pretty sure that Mr. Bergara felt the same from the way the man had begun to chew on his bottom lip. "I'll apologize tomorrow."
"Tris, Tris, Tris. What am I gonna do with you?" Mr. Bergara mumbled under his breath, his tone aloof. "No tablet for a week. I'll make sure that Mr. Madej tells me when you apologize tomorrow, alright? Why don't you go wait in the car? Zack should be waiting there for you."
Beatrice didn't look as opposed to the punishment, but she didn't look too thrilled either. She gave Shane a shy wave goodbye, which he returned before she left the classroom without another word.
Shane felt like he should say something to the man, or at least assure him that his daughter isn't the complete spawn of Satan. "Bea is, in all honesty, one of the best students that I teach at the moment. This was just one little off day. Everything should be better by tomorrow."
"Does she let you call her Bea?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. She does."
"She must like you then. She hates when we call her Bea. I rarely even call her Beatrice." Mr. Bergara lifted his hand to touch the wall of artwork beside him; he looked pensive when his finger landed on a dry macaroni shell. "I'm sorry. I've just never been inside of her classroom before—does any of the artwork have a bunch of glitter on it?"
"Yeah, that would be Beatrice's," Shane replied with a genuine smile. "Move your hand down, then to the right a little. Yep, right there."
"What is the drawing of? It has a lot of glue on it."
"She drew a tutu on herself. I couldn't stop her from pouring the whole cup of glitter on the paper."
Mr. Bergara laughed earnestly (and Shane won't admit this, but the sound is probably the best noise he's ever heard other than silence). "Sounds like her." He paused. "I'm sorry to be taking up so much of your time like this. I'm just trying hard to, like, actively be a part of her life. And, as you may know now, I've been working on getting to see it."
"No, no, it's fine. It's also none of my business." Shane hastily replied. "But, Mr. Bergara—"
"Oh, please, call me Ryan."
The name was somehow fitting. "Ryan, if you would like, I could give you daily updates on Bea. I do it for some of the parents who like to track their kids' behavior. Would you like for me to call you, or maybe pass the message along to her babysitter?"
"No, texting it to me is fine." He could probably tell that Shane had given him a puzzled look because he smiled even wider than he had before. "My phone has a voiceover for text and image recognition. Just make sure that if you're sending a picture of her, she's the only person in it. My phone describes every single aspect."
"I'll text you then... about Bea, of course," said Shane, then nervously chuckled. "Would you like for me to walk you out?"
Maybe it's an insensitive question, Shane thought, but Ryan didn't respond with even an inch of malice. "Nah, if I can find my way in, I'll be able to find my way out. Thank you though, Mr. Madej. Have a good night."