Chapter Text
Megan adjusted her bonnet in the mirror. She looked like Laura Ingalls Wilder, she thought. The class had read an excerpt from Little House on the Prairie in her English textbook a while back, and she had liked it more than her friends. Her friend Summer had cringed at the old-timey language, but Megan hadn’t thought it was too bad. In fact, it piqued her interest in the time period. So, when Miss Jenkins assigned a report researching “children’s lives in the historical time and place of your choosing,” Megan had thought, Why not do that report on the children of the pioneers?
Walking out of her room, Megan was met with a burst of laughter. “Look at your dress!” her little brother Georgie exclaimed. “You look like my great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother!” He bolted away and Megan wanted to chase him down the hall, but her mom caught her by the collar. (It was quite the ruffly collar in her old-fashioned clothes.)
“Ignore him,” Mom said flatly. “Today’s your big day. Have you got everything? Is your written report in your bag? If you forget it, I’ll bring it to the office before you present, I promis-”
“Yeah, mom.”
“Have you brushed your teeth? We don’t your breath smelling when you’re giving a-”
“Ew! Yes, mom!”
The house remained in a tizzy until Mom’s car finally backed out of the driveway, Megan in the back seat, clutching her written report to make sure to herself that she hadn’t forgotten it. (Obviously, it was always in her backpack, but she could get a little nervous, and her mother’s antics didn’t exactly help.)
When she arrived at the door of Miss Jenkins’ third grade classroom, she found a menagerie of historical figures chattering around the room. Some were dressed like ancient Greeks, in tunics made of bedsheets. Others had wound bedsheets into ancient Roman togas. Colin was dressed like a Viking. Summer was dressed in a homemade medieval gown with a tall hat. John was dressed like a miniature George Washington with a tricorn hat. The new girl Britney was just dressed in regular modern clothes.
“Forgot the project was due today?” called out Colin to Britney. He sniggered.
Britney didn’t answer.
Megan began walking over to her. Britney was a quiet girl with large dark eyes. Since coming to this school, she hadn’t made any friends and was always quiet. Megan sometimes saw her sitting alone at recess. She felt bad for her, and wanted to say, “Don’t listen to him,” or “Do you want to explain things to Miss Jenkins? I’m sure she’ll listen.” Before she could, however, Summer was in front of her, grinning and twirling happily. Then, with a sudden shriek, the bell rang. Greek, Roman, and Elizabethan children - children of the Revolutionary War and Civil War - all scrambled to their desks, Miss Jenkins calling for everyone’s attention.
Megan went third. Her nerves meant she didn’t want to go first, but also she wanted to get the presentation over with soon. It went nicely, she thought. She talked about her costume, about treks in prairie schooners, and she showed off some pictures she drew in the written report.
She curtsied at the end, and walked with mild relief back to her seat. She locked eyes with Britney as she did so, seeing her sitting in her lonely way at the back of the room.
More presentations followed. Tony, in an old cap and knickers, talked about living in a tenement one hundred years ago. John talked about helping his father hunt and worrying about who would win the American Revolution. Colin talked about big Viking ships. Summer described life in a medieval castle. Megan clapped enthusiastically at that. Grace talked about writing a letter to Lincoln. Henry talked about working a printing press. Sarah talked about not being able to play a part in the Globe Theater during the time of Shakespeare.
Then Miss Jenkins looked pointedly across the room and said, “Britney, would you like to go next?”
Miss Jenkins was using her stern voice, the kind she used when someone didn’t turn in their homework on time or got into trouble.
“I think I should go last, Miss Jenkins,” Britney said smoothly. “Tom still has to go, and then Keesha-”
“No, Britney,” Miss Jenkins said firmly. “I think you should go next.”
Britney smiled mysteriously and, to everyone’s surprise, jumped up, a full report in her hands. She placed it on Miss Jenkins desk and took a stand at the front of the room.
“Where is your costume?” Miss Jenkins demanded. There were giggles from the class.
“Hey,” Tony hollered. “‘Now’ is a historical time period too. Maybe she’s doing a report on ‘now,’ now.” More giggles.
Miss Jenkins looked down at the sign-up sheet, where all the students had coordinated their topics so that there weren’t any repeats. “It says here you wanted to do a presentation on children in ancient Egypt, Britney?” she asked dubiously.
Britney nodded. “I really think I should go last, Miss Jenkins,” she said again.
“And by that time the bell will have rung and you’ll be able to wait until tomorrow to get your costume.”
“It’s not that!”
“No, Britney. It has to be now.” Miss Jenkins was adamant.
Britney sighed. “I have a costume,” she murmured.
“Then where is it?”
Britney fidgeted, tugging at her shirt. “Under here,” she said drolly.
“Britney, it is as plain as the nose on your face that there is nothing under there.”
Britney smiled again. “Exactly.”
Now it was Miss Jenkins’s turn to sigh. “Britney, what are you talking about?”
Britney made no reply, but that sly smile was still on her lips as she pulled her shirt up over her head, shucked off her pants and underwear, and suddenly she was standing stark-staring naked as the day she was born.
It happened so fast, no one had the time to stop her. She tore off her clothes so quickly and so eagerly that one second, they were there, and the next second, they were crumpled underneath her feet - at least until she kicked them aside, as though trying to get them as far away as possible.
It was pure pandemonium. The class broke out into riotous laughter. Miss Jenkins’ face turned purple and her eyes bulged like a fish out of water, stunned speechless until she could finally scream over the din, “What - is - the - meaning - of - this?” while rushing to cover Britney as best she could.
Britney’s eyes were gleaming merrily. “You wanted us to wear what the kids our age wore in the time and place we chose,” she laughed. “Well, this is what kids my age in ancient Egypt wore - their birthday suits!”
Shockingly, this answer did nothing to calm Miss Jenkins, who looked to be suffering an apoplexy. Seething with confusion, the teacher found it almost impossible to perform the simplest tasks, tripping over Britney’s shirt as she did her best to gather up all the girl’s clothes. All this contributed to even greater bursts of laughter from the class, whose mood seemed to have shifted from shock and consternation to bemused delight at the teacher’s slapstick antics. Megan did not know what to think. At last, Miss Jenkins was able to force Britney back into her clothes, and, clamping a hand around her small arm, she uttered through gritted teeth:
“To the principal’s office. Now.”
Megan watched as Miss Jenkins, still clinging to Britney like a vice, slid open the door to the adjoining classroom and - curtly - asked Mrs. Farnsworth next door to oversee the classroom in her absence. In imperious silence, she led Britney out the doorway. In the doorframe, their silhouettes were stark against the sun. Megan kept her eyes fixed on them as they grew smaller and smaller, finally vanishing out of her line of sight when Miss Jenkins turned the corner to the front office.
Megan was not the only one. Although Mrs. Farnsworth had set the class to work on some diverting activity, Megan knew that all eyes were peering up from their papers any moment they could, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was happening or at least of Miss Jenkins’s return. Whispers, too, buzzed throughout the classroom. Megan caught some of them:
“She’s daffy in the head!”
“She’s a genius! She gets to go home early and she doesn’t have to present!”
“She’s gross!”
Megan tried to ignore the hum of whispers and focus on the math problems in front of her, but every time she caught half a phrase, she listened.
Miss Jenkins returned alone, promising the remaining students they would finish up the presentations tomorrow morning - and that now they would move on to other subjects.
At recess, Megan saw a car pull up near the front office. Through the schoolyard fence, she watched a woman get out, and from the look on her face, this woman was fuming. She stormed into the office and left a few moments later, dragging Britney behind her. Megan couldn’t hear what the two were saying, but she could see the woman was really mad.
The day continued uneventfully, with only Megan peering back at Britney’s empty desk from time to time…
When the time came for everyone to go home, Megan didn’t mention the Britney incident to Mom. It felt like it would be mean to Britney somehow.
“So, how did the presentation go?” asked mom.
“Oh?” said Megan. “It went great…”
Her thoughts were still on Britney, and what she would say to her tomorrow (if she was still in the school by then.)
(Was she really thinking of talking to her?!)
Maybe she was…