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Monday
Erwin Smith sat at his desk, envelope in hand. It felt heavier than it should, but only because he knew what it was the moment he had picked it up from his staff mailbox. Going by the date (it was the third week of October), the fact that September’s preliminary hiccups were out of the way and that students (as well as teachers) were settled into their routines, this could only be a Teacher Evaluation Notice.
As a first-year teacher, he knew he was going to be evaluated, they all were. He tried to convince himself that he shouldn’t be overly stressed about it since once the deed was done, he would be assigned either a pass or fail, no percentage, no grade. In the end, it was just a checkmark, a clear indication of “yes, you can continue to shape the minds of our future generations” or “no, please resign because your union makes it impossible for us to fire you.”
He opened the envelope to confirm his suspicions, unfolded the letter and scanned its contents just so he could pick out the date. October 27th. Exactly a week.
He took a deep breath and peered over the desk to the gaggle of sleeping students scattered throughout the classroom. Twelve Kindergarten Cots and their respective covers were stacked, (as they had been since the first day of school), in the far corner by the Lost and Found box. As a teacher, he did his best to follow Ministry protocols, but when it came to nap time, his philosophy was to allow the children the freedom to find their own comfortable area. He found this method much easier than cramming them all together on the Magic Carpet where they were within whispering distance, hair-pulling distance, or fart-shaming distance (hey, it happened to the best of us while we slept, not just kids). Having them spread out gave the students more options (and privacy), and if he was honest with himself, he really just enjoyed watching their personalities shine through in the choices they made.
For instance, Petra always started off sitting upright on the lounge chair, but in order to get comfortable, she would end up stomach pressed against the seat, legs sprawled out on the back of the chair and cheek to the ground. Her soft little snores were amplified due to the pressure she was exuding on her diaphragm.
Connie on the other hand preferred to nap on the floor, enjoying its cool texture. He always set himself up near the vestibule so that once nap was done, he would be the first to grab his and Sasha’s lunches so they could start eating right away. The problem with him sleeping in what would later become a high traffic area was the amount of drool he produced in his sleep. Two or three times during their forty-minute napping period, the teacher would have to wipe the little puddle next to the bald boy’s mouth (with a mop no less), but it seemed the more the teacher cleaned it up, the more Connie drooled. He eventually gave up, and placed a Caution, Wet Floor sign over his body so that it covered his torso like a tent. The first time it happened, the round-eyed boy was so pleased, he insisted it become part of his sleep routine, having Mr. Smith place it over him prior to falling asleep.
Within arm’s length, Sasha slept between the water table and the toy shelf. She was nearly as quick to fall asleep as she was to get her lunch, and within three minutes of nodding off, she would unconsciously reach out for the Mr. Potato Head on the bottom shelf and proceed to suck on its face. Each time, Mr. Smith would go over to the little girl and remove all the small saliva-covered pieces (eyes, nose, ears, mouth, hands) and pocket them in case she decided to eat them. Previously, he had tried moving the ridiculous toy out of her reach, but it only caused her to wake up and not be able to fall back asleep.
Sasha wasn’t the only one in need of self-soothing during nap time. Mikasa, for all her aggressive overprotectiveness and fierce little face, relied on her Hot Wheels blanky and thumb to lull herself to sleep. Nap time was the only point in the day that the little girl didn’t have her eyes glued on Eren, to make sure he was alright. And because she was neither unintelligent or impractical, she strongly urged him lay down beside her, and share her blanky.
Two minutes into her nap, Mikasa would turn to her side (facing away from Eren) and let her jet-black hair cover her face. No sooner, Eren would sit up and nudge Levi with his leg and nod towards the large rocking chair from which Erwin read them stories. Baby Alive in tow, Eren would boost the little raven onto the chair, and then climb aboard himself. Holding the doll in his arms, the brunette would hum lowly to it, rocking himself and his friend back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The combination of the gentle, soothing motion and the rhythmic creaking noise the old chair lulled Levi to sleep first, mouth slack, head leaning against his friend’s arm. Careful not to shift his weight, Eren would take in the view of his little friend asleep, close his eyes and follow suit.
The teacher often had to pry his eyes away from the serene display as it generally caused his own brand of drowsiness to pull at his eyelids. But he clearly wasn’t alone in feeling this way. The only other individual who observed the students as much as he did, was Hanji. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her painting languidly at the easel, as she took in the two little boys sleeping on the rocking chair. Hanji insisted that only painting and drawing relaxed her enough to fall asleep and he respected that; it really wasn’t any different than his need to play Solitaire or Minesweeper in bed on his tablet to turn in.
Regardless, today the bespectacled girl sat squarely on the three-legged stool, lazily looked over to the side of the easel onto Magic Carpet and then painted a blue strip upon the affixed newsprint. He saw her reach for the side of the mount to steady herself as her body seemed to grow heavy with sleep, but not before she painted a green dot and half a red triangle. With that last Herculean effort, her face slumped against her wet painting. He never had the heart to wake her up; besides, she loved the designs it left on her face once she woke up.
He did have some less complicated sleepers who snoozed uninterestingly under tables, or set up little pillow forts. As he walked around the room to make sure everything was okay before he attacked the pile of evaluation preparation he had at this desk, he did a quick headcount and he noticed he was short one student. Before panicking, he turned in place, counted the students again and noticed the bathroom door slightly ajar.
Jean. The blunt little boy had asked to go to the washroom, at least ten minutes ago. Mr. Smith chastised himself for not noticing sooner and ran to the bathroom to assess the damage. Not wanting to scare the horse-loving child, he slowly opened the door, then clasped his hand over his mouth in an attempt to suppress a laugh. If the stench hadn’t been so bad, the sight he walked in on would have been, well, not exactly endearing, but cute. Clearly what Jean had come in for had given him some trouble, so much so that the little boy had fallen asleep on the toilet. As if that wasn’t enough, he had also fallen into the seat’s hole, with his feet hanging out and arms dangling at its sides. His head was tilted back uncomfortably and his snores came at an even pace. Not chancing unfinished business, he chose to leave the boy there, but ran to fetch a pillow to lean against the toilet seat so that he could more comfortably rest his head. He would have to remind himself to burn the pillow tonight.
The only set of eyes to ever to make contact with him ten minutes into nap time were the bright blue ones; except that today they were red-rimmed, puffy, and so tired.
He walked over to Armin, who was laying on his back, World Encyclopedia (Volume 7) gripped in his hands as he sneezed onto the pages. The teacher cringed but sat on his haunches to be closer to the little boy.
“Armin, you should be sleeping, sweetheart, you look so tired.”
“M-fine Mr. Smith,” he answered in a raspy voice and then sneezed again. That time the spray of germs reached the teacher’s shoes.
“No, you’re not, Armin. You’ve been sick since last Friday. Why are you at school? Why aren’t you staying at home?” he asked in part out of concern for the boy, while the other part remained slightly annoyed with his mother.
“My mom doesn’t want me staying at home in case I get her sick, Mr. Smith. She has a date this week and she said she can’t afford not to go on this one.”
The teacher sighed, hung his head and then delicately placed the back of his large hand to Armin’s forehead. Yes, he definitely had a fever. The poor little man should have been in bed, at home, and not on a dusty carpet. Peering down at the little blonde, he held out his arms and Armin accepted the silent invitation. He carried the small boy over to his desk, one handed, wrapping the little ocean animals blanket around him. By the time the teacher was sitting to review his notes, the little boy was snoring loudly on his lap and drooling on his shirt.
*****
The next couple of days flew by for the first-year teacher, but mainly because he had been in a drug-induced cold medication haze. Having gone to bed early Monday night with the first signs of a scratchy throat, he had thought it would have passed with a solid night’s sleep enabled by NyQuil.
He had been so wrong. The next morning when he woke his body had ached in ways he could only imagine matched roadkill. He couldn’t even adequately stretch. Even after twelve hours of sleep, he was still tired, his throat was still sore, and despite the fever he knew he had, he was chilled. He fell back into his bed, and contemplated his day. Singing, Show and Tell rehearsal, Snack, Recess, Free Time, Nap, Lunch, Recess, Art and Story time. He was all the more exhausted for just thinking about it.
But every teacher knew there was one universally accepted truth: You never used your sick days when you were actually sick. You used them to get ahead on your report cards because you had slacked off the weekend before they were due, or you used them to get away for a long weekend or to go shopping on Black Friday. With this in mind, he got out of bed and jumped in the shower, hoping it would help.
He went through the motions of the day feeling like the aforementioned roadkill (quite possibly a porcupine that had been hit so hard that its quills were stabbing it from the inside). His only solace, was that half the class was also missing, they too had probably caught Armin’s flu. Today, the blue-eyed boy sat front and center on the Magic Carpet, looking much better than any of his peers with a shit-eating grin, as they practiced their Spooky Halloween song.
Eren’s eyes were heavy where he sat, legs sprawled out, Levi’s head on his lap. He was running his tiny fingers through the raven’s hair which was soaked and plastered against his fevered face as he slept. In fact, Eren and Armin were the only kindergartners still awake, since everyone was passed out on the carpet, fatigued with illness. He turned off the lights and pressed play on the iPod connected to the speaker. Less than a minute later, as the soft Tchaikovsky music filled the room, Eren fell asleep. Armin seemed to know well enough not to say a thing as he got up and fetched himself a book while the teacher got comfortable on the rocking chair to nap with the students.
Wednesday was much the same and the only thing they had accomplished was to practice their Halloween song twice before all their little raspy voices begged to be silent. He still hadn’t made any progress in recovering, so as much as he hated to do it, he put on an episode of The Magic School Bus, and then another, and another; until they finished the first season.
By the end of the day, Mr. Smith had to admit defeat and started planning for a supply teacher to come in for Thursday, and quite possibly Friday if things didn’t take a turn for the better. He looked through his top drawer where he had four business-type cards advertising occasional teacher services. Three were promising, with crayons, rulers and cute animals as decorative borders, the fourth was plain white, black bold letters reading “Nile Dok, SCT#452142” followed by his contact information.
Never. He would come in sick another day to prevent Dok from being in his classroom. His ex-peer in Teacher’s College had made nearly everything into a competition and had the most arrogant way about him. The last thing he needed was to leave this man in charge only to come back in time for his evaluation. There was no telling how he would reconfigure the classroom, solely to screw with him. No. No Nile Dok. He shot the card in the garbage and pulled up the employee sickness program on his computer so he could request Mr. Zacharias, a highly-recommended supply teacher that followed teacher plans to a T.
Leaving plans on his desk for two days (in case he wasn’t able to pull himself together enough for Friday), he made his way to his car and drove home.
****
By the time Monday rolled around, he felt completely refreshed and made his way to school a little earlier to settle in before his evaluation. He hoped that Mr. Zacharias had been able to practice the Spooky Halloween song with his students and had adequately prepared them for their Show and Tell.
Upon entering the classroom, nothing seemed out of place- a good sign. He turned on the lights and walked across the room to his desk with his bag and coffee in hand. He still had a half hour before the students would arrive and he wanted to make sure he had the necessary documentation his principal had requested: his day plan book, his long-range plans and student exemplars.
He sat down and took a moment to read the comments Mr. Zacharias had left for him, but upon reading the first comment, his stomach sank.
Before he began raging about the note, he tried to come up with a valid excuse as to why Nile Dok had been in his classroom to begin with- any excuse. Perhaps the man had been in the school supplying for someone else, and had stopped by just to annoy him. Yes, that was it. He decided to call the school secretary to confirm.
“Hi Nanaba, it’s Erwin. Who was in for me Thursday and Friday? Uh huh. Yeah? He was already booked for Ms. Brzenska. I see. So you had to book… Right. I understand. Yes, much better. Thanks. Have a good day.”
Damn it. Nile Dok, with his kids. Before an evaluation. He marched back to his desk to read the remaining comments. Sure enough, in slanted chicken scratch, Dok’s own brand of teacher evaluation.
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Day Plans: Mr. Erwin Smith Date: Thursday, October 23rd Day 4 on the rotary schedule
Hi, thanks for coming in for me today. I have a lovely class and I hope by the time you’re done with these plans, you will think so as well. Please make sure you take attendance first thing as the students are on the Magic Carpet, and ask Mikasa and Armin to bring it down to the office.
Adequate classroom, Smith. Hope your daily interactions with your students are better than those you leave behind when you’re ‘sick’. – Mr. N.Dok
Period 1: Practice Halloween song
The lyrics are written on the white board, to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Some students might need help with pronunciation.
nice song choice, so simple even your students nailed it- Mr. N. Dok
Period 2: Literacy Block 1
Students are practicing Show and Tell with the theme Something Spooky. On the blue sheet (under these plans) I’ve outlined the hint method we’ll be using. If you could reinforce the rules and methods set out on that sheet, I would really appreciate it.
So one-dimensional, Smith. I replaced it with a new, more integrational and interesting theme - Mr. N. Dok
Snack time
Have students wash their hands prior to eating. During snack (and lunch later), please inspect Table Group 3’s lunchboxes (Mikasa, Connie and Historia) for milk products, egg products and fish products just in case there was a small mix-up at home.
Nanny state much? Shouldn’t we be teaching children how to protect themselves from allergenic products? -Mr. N.Dok
Recess
Some students were not feeling well enough to go play outside yesterday, please allow them to stay inside for some quiet time – puzzles, books or coloring are good options:
My union has fought for me to get break time, and I’m taking it. All of them went outside. - Mr. N. Dok
Period 3: Art
The kids will continue to work on their Mondrian Spider Webs (they’re in the art folder in the second drawer of my desk), please take out the blue, yellow and red markers, pencil crayons, wax crayons, paints and pastels to allow them to choose their medium
This is a really boring project, and just because it’s close to Halloween you don’t have to limit yourself to pumpkins, spiders and vampires. We did Georgia O'Keeffe flowers instead in a variety of skin tones to display our inclusiveness - Mr. N. Dok
Period 4: Free Time
Allow students to go grab a colored lanyard with their desired center indicated on the attached picture (please pick the names out of the jar with the popsicle sticks to be fair)
What a waste of time. No wonder the students in our country are lagging behind in numeracy and literacy. Free Time is cancelled. Had them do adding and subtracting drills instead. They can have Free Time tomorrow if they master 0-10. - Mr. N. Dok
Nap
Students already have their own differentiated napping locations/routines. They are wonderful at self-soothing and their individual preferences should be respected (so long as it is safe and hurts nobody). Please make sure nobody sleeps in the bathroom, and Armin is allowed to not sleep so long as he’s quiet with a book
I bet your students walk all over you. Today the students were required to sleep on the rug, on their Kindergarten Cots. None of them slept, the parents will thank me, they’ll sleep better tonight. - Mr. N. Dok
Lunch
Same as snack, please
yadda yadda yadda, same as above for my comment too- Mr. N. Dok
Recess
Same as above please:
"......" - Mr. N. Dok
Period 5: Literacy Block 2
Story Time. Please read “Sick Simon” to the class on the Magic Carpet (they all have their spots). This is a new book, so please ask them what they think it’s about by just looking at the cover. Once they have shared their predictions, read it to them using various voices, and asking questions along the way. You’ll notice that by the end of the story, students should have internalized ways to prevent them from getting sick. Have a discussion by putting their answers up on the whiteboard and role playing some of them
Since it’s a new book so they won’t miss it. There is no social justice value in reading them this book. Instead we took a look at A Birthday Cake for George Washington and talked about the explicit racism present in children’s literature, they were quite confused, which I blame on you for not teaching them this stuff sooner. - Mr. N. Dok
Please let me know how your day went. Who I will need to have discussions with (regarding behaviour) and who needs to be praised (for making good choices). I hope you had a good day.
I did the same thing two days in a row. They never got their free time. Try doing more math in your class, Smith. Good luck with your evaluation – I saw your notice.- Mr. N. Dok
All the best,
Erwin Smith
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With each comment his blood boiled. He had left simple instructions. Instructions he was sure any other supply teacher wouldn’t have had a difficult time abiding by. It wasn’t a simple song; the kids had practiced so much and worked so hard to perfect it! And how dare he change their Show and Tell theme, especially when he was only with them for two days, the poor kids probably had to do most of the preparation, unassisted, at home over the weekend.
He looked over to the phone and saw no red blinking light indicating angry parent messages, so nobody must have suffered an allergic reaction or gotten hurt at recess. And he was upset they hadn’t finished their Mondrian Art, their projects were really turning out so well, now he had an empty bulletin board with nothing to fill it. At least the O’Keefe flowers weren’t hanging up- what was that idiot thinking having them sketched in neutral colours, in kindergarten. Naturally the kids wouldn’t think anything of it, but Mr. Zackly…
He swallowed and slammed his fists against his desk. He looked over the story time notes and knew that, Dok’s lesson had merit, but not for four-year-olds who wouldn’t understand the context and consequences of what they were taught. And his book was timely, damn it, especially given the plague that had spread in his class.
No matter now. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself and make the prominent vein on his forehead go away. The bell rang moments later and he ran across the classroom and down the hall to go meet his kids lined up outside.
Upon seeing him, they cheered for his return and it made his heart swell. Dok’s comments and snide remarks were forgotten for the time being and he was happy to see his whole class, all smiles, no sniffles or red eyes. It was one less thing he had to worry about. They made their way down the corridor, full of stories from their time apart, Connie and Sasha walking backwards to tell him about their play date over the weekend. Eren and Levi slowed to listen to the story as well, their little hands finding their way into his large ones as they swung their arms happily towards their classroom.
“Don’t leave us again, Mr. Smith,” Eren pleaded, as his eyes locked with Levi’s in a shared understanding.
“Yeah,” Levi agreed. “Mr. Dok was a complete dick.”
“Levi!” the teacher chastised, first looking down the hallway to make sure they hadn’t really been overheard and then at the little boy.
“What? He’s not a friend of yours is he? I told Eren, there’s no way Mr. Smith would be friends with such a dick.”
“No, he’s not my friend, Levi; I’m just more concerned about your language,” he said somewhat frantically. Normally he would be touched that the little stern boy would be concerned that he had offended one of his teacher’s friends, but with his nerves shot over this evaluation, he was a little more frazzled than usual.
“It’s okay, Mr. Smith,” Eren said pulling on his sleeve to force the large man to turn his attention back to him. “Levi didn’t add a word to “dick”, like “dickhead”, so it’s okay. Right Levi?” the little brunette asked looking across his teacher to his friend as they walked to make sure he had understood the concept his Levi had repeatedly taught him. Levi nodded and held out a fist to bump, which happened to be crotch-level for the teacher, so he stopped abruptly to let them bump.
“No, it’s not okay boys,” he admonished as though explaining that two plus two equalled four; but given the age of the children to whom he was speaking, it made sense that they wouldn’t really get it. He tried another tactic. “Levi, honey, it’s probably better if you let the word drop from your vocabulary altogether, okay? Promise. Promise me that you won’t use any of your Uncle Kenny Words in class today. It’s a very important day for Mr. Smith. And I just need you to promise me…”
As they reached their classroom door, Eren skipped inside, but Levi stood in front of Mr. Smith with a determined expression on his face and held out his pinky. Mr. Smith took it gladly in his own and sighed with relief.
Once inside his classroom, he noticed Mr. Zackly standing by the vestibule as the kids were taking off their layers, hanging up their backpacks and carrying their brown paper bags for Show and Tell back to their seats.
“Mr. Zackly,” he said holding out his hand to the principal, but the man stood transfixed, looking over the heads of the kindergartners. The teacher’s hand fell to his side as he followed his superior’s gaze to the back wall of the vestibule where the student’s latest art projects were prominently displayed. There, from wall to wall, were twelve poorly imitated Georgia O’Keeffe White and Blue Flower Shapes, except that they weren’t blue or white. They were peach, and brown, and black and yellow. Some where a mixture of all those colors as well.
Under any other circumstance, he would have been proud of the artwork, he admired O’Keeffe’s brilliance. But Dok’s intent was not to enrich the lives of these students with beautiful art, otherwise, he would have displayed the work in plain sight on his bulletin board, or even in the hallway.
“I can explain…” Mr. Smith began.
The principal waved him off and turned around to go sit at the teacher’s desk to review the asked for documentation. Mr. Smith noticed his superior scribble something on his clipboard as he walked away. Before heading off to the front of the class himself, he nearly tripped over Levi who had taken in the exchange and offered his teacher a shy little smile of encouragement. He replaced his own dejected look with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and resigned himself to not letting this colour the rest of his evaluation.
By the time the little ones were gathered onto the Magic Carpet, Mr. Smith took the attendance and handed it to Mikasa and Armin to bring to the office. They scooted off quickly and the teacher took a familiar seat on his rocking chair and looked to Mr. Zackly, who nodded for him to begin.
“It’s so nice to see you again, class. We haven’t seen each other in a while, but I’m glad we’re all back happy and healthy this Monday morning.” Most of the class clapped their hands appreciatively. He saw Levi’s hand shoot up from the back where he was barely big enough to see. Levi was not a chatty child, and didn’t often participate in class without being encouraged, so it struck the teacher as a little strange that suddenly, during his evaluation, the little boy with slits of silver for eyes would want to speak. He wondered how insistent the boy would be to speak if he didn’t ask him why he had his hand up. He knew Armin would be. Eren definitely would be. But maybe Levi would let it-
“Mr. Smith!” he said standing up, his hand still in the air. “Please. I have something to say to Mr. Zackly.”
“Yes, Levi?” Mr. Zackly asked, bypassing the teacher completely.
“We are really glad Mr. Smith is back today. Mr. Dok was a complete penis.” Levi turned his attention to Mr. Smith, waiting for the large man’s approval of his mature vocabulary, but Erwin looked at him in horror. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t exactly discipline the child for using anatomically correct terminology. He knew Levi was trying to show Mr. Zackly that they had missed their homeroom teacher, his intent was good, but still… “See, Mr. Smith. I didn’t use the word dick. My uncle never uses proper words,” Levi said in a stage-whisper.
At a loss for what to do or say, Mr. Smith just gave a weak smile and nod then gestured for the little raven to sit down. He saw the principal scribble something anew on the stack of papers attached to his clipboard.
The teacher continued through his morning routine without further incident. Mikasa and Armin returned and sat back quietly among the group. They talked about the day of the week and the weather outside (by adding the appropriate magnetised pieces – a happy sun next to the word “Monday” and the number “27” on the whiteboard).
Initially, he had planned on starting his evaluation with his Halloween song, but he feared that since most of the kids had been sick on and off last week, it would turn out to be an utter disaster. He opted to skip the song altogether in favor of having more students present their Show and Tells.
"Alright friends, how about you go to your tables and grab your Show and Tell bags and bring them back to the Magic Carpet?" Despite the rough start, he was confident that this activity would properly demonstrate his ability to run an educational program. They had done at least four Show and Tells since the beginning of the school year, and those had all been successes.
This would be easy. The students were accustomed to it. It demonstrated proper listening skills, community building and speaking skills. It wasn’t the “Something Spooky” theme he had originally assigned them, but honestly after the vaginas plastered on the wall and the song about masturbating, how bad could the new theme be?
“Okay, who would like to explain the new theme we’ve been working on as a class?” he asked, hoping Zackly wouldn’t detect his ignorance on the topic. All the hands went up and he was glad they did. That meant they had fully grasped what had been asked of them. He selected Armin because he knew the boy would brief him best on the topic.
“A New Discovery,” he said simply. That’s it? From the kid who overshared and made simple questions into dissertation topics?
“Can someone elaborate?” God, he hoped the principal couldn’t hear the desperation in his voice. He knew wait time between questions asked and answers given was an essential component of student learning, but he was sure he had given them more than four minutes to answer at this point. Finally, Hanji put up her hand.
“Yes, Hanji?” he said relieved.
“Because we are all young scientists and explorers at heart, we were asked to find and bring something new to school to teach our friends about.”
Not bad, Dok. Integrating science, a little bit of social studies too, he mused. If everything went well, he might need to forgive the idiot and give the occasional teacher some credit. IF nothing went wrong.
“Very well, let me remind you of the rules,” he said putting his finger on his mouth to indicate silence. The students copied him. “We are quiet while the friend who is presenting gives three hints and then the presenter will select one person to guess the contents of the bag. If the guesser gets it right, it is their turn to present next. If they get it wrong, we applaud to encourage our friend, and the presenter gets to select who has the next turn.” They all nodded. Of course they did. They had done this before. They had practiced. They were going to do great!
“Okay, who would like to start?” Most hands shot up. “Hanji, why don’t you go?”
The bespectacled girl came to the front with her small paper bag and held it firmly in her hands.
“Um, my new discovery was found this morning before leaving school, my mom said I should put it in the toilet and flush it down, aaaaaaaaand smells bad.”
The tiny faces scrunched up in disgust and nobody said anything; except for Levi who was doubled over laughing.
“I love poop jokes,” he said between chuckles.
“That’s not right, Levi. It’s not poop.” Hanji corrected, smiling widely, looking very happy with herself for having misled at least one classmate. Hanji’s Show and Tell should have been easy. She had brought the same thing to the last four; but her bag had been significantly larger then, and rounded in the front and wet on the bottom. She had never carried it so carelessly because it usually held a fish bowl and her pet goldfish Bean.
Hanji, no.
She stuck her hand in her little bag and pulled out a dead goldfish by the tail for everyone to see.
“I found him dead this morning,” she beamed, “You see, it is a new discovery! And I’m going to take him home and cut him open tonight to see what’s inside, you know, for science, Mr. Smith!”
The chorus of “ewwwwws” and the looks of horror on everyone’s faces would have been absolutely hilarious if he knew he wouldn’t have to deal with questions about death from the kids and complaints from their parents.
“I piiiiiiiiiiiick,” Hanji began looking at the three or four hands that had recovered fast enough from the proclamation of dissection and death from the odd child and she pointed to Connie. As she walked past, Erwin gestured for her to hand him the bag.
“I’ll hold Bean for you until the end of the day so you don’t lose him somewhere in the class okay? I’m so sorry for your loss.” She seemed to appreciate both the concern and sentiment, gave him her bag and sat next to Sasha on the carpet.
“I’m just going to tell you right now, it’s not a dead fish,” Connie said laughing. His friends laughed nervously along with him. “Okay, for my three hints… you can see it in a museum, it belongs on your hand, and I found it in a bathroom.”
Great, another bathroom-related hint. Levi covered his mouth with both his hands and nudged his best friend. The kids sat there quietly, and he noticed many of them really thinking hard about this.
“What’s a museum?” Petra asked.
Before he could answer, Mikasa interjected, “It’s a saying. My dad has it on his work desk at home, it means seize the day.” She looked at Mr. Smith expectantly, and he frowned sympathetically and shook his head. She shrugged her shoulders and bit her lip. He smiled at her, trying to show he appreciated her effort.
“No, Mika. It’s where they keep really old things.” Armin explained.
“Do you live in a museum, Mr. Smith?” Petra asked, not at all unkindly.
“No, Petra,” Armin said rolling his eyes. “But Mr. Zackly probably does.” All the kids laughed, and while the principal smiled at them, Erwin could tell it was forced.
Sasha put up her hand and smirked at her best friend. “Is it a Mummy finger?” she asked knowingly. He had surely told her in advance. The teacher’s hypothesis was confirmed by the nod and smile he gave the little brunette.
A Mummy finger? The teacher scratched his head, feeling as perplexed as his students looked, but they all got on their hands and knees and inched their way forward to see what Connie was pulling out of his bag. Sure enough it was the length of a finger, probably the girth of one too. It was made out of cotton, but it wasn’t wrapped up.
Connie held it up over his head for everyone to see, including the principal. It was a tampon.
“Very good, Connie. Excellent. Let’s put that artefact back in your bag, shall we?” The little boy with the buzzed hair did as instructed and went to his spot, but not before hi-fiving his friend.
“Sasha, your turn?” Mr. Smith asked tentatively. The tampon wasn’t terrible, but come on, already.
“Can I pick someone else? I’m still not comfortable enough to go, I want to use my right to pass.” He nodded to her, appreciating that she used the correct vocabulary at expressing her discomfort using words instead of her usual guttural sounds and hiding in the bathroom. This at least, this was a small victory.
“Thank you for your bravery, Sasha. Who do you think wants to go next?” he asked.
A few hands went up and she pointed to Petra. The little girl got up to her feet and nearly ran to the front. She was clearly excited by her new discovery. Erwin found some measure of solace in knowing that Petra was probably one of the most reasonable children in his whole class and would probably do a fantastic job.
“Okay, Petra, let’s see what you’ve discovered,” he encouraged.
“Thank you, Mr. Smith. Okay class, my new discovery looks like jewellery, they belong to a cop and I found them on my parents’ bed.”
Shiiiiiiit, Erwin almost cursed aloud and stopped himself. He put his hand up, to cut her off, as kindly as possible, but the principal interjected.
“No, Mr. Smith, allow her to continue.”
At this point, Armin was bouncing up and down on his bum, hand waving frantically in the air.
“I know this, Petra. I know this, pick me!” he begged.
“Armin,” she said pointing at him with a wide grin on her face. Erwin closed his eyes and breathed through his nose.
“They’re handcuffs! My mom has some in her bedroom too!” Petra nodded fervently as she pulled the fuzzy leopard-print cuffs from her bag. Bracelets. She thought they were bracelets.
“The funny thing is, Mr. Smith,” Petra began, “neither my mom or dad are police officers. Maybe they were just playing pretend, right?”
“My mom isn’t a cop either, Petra. It must be a game adults play.” There was something knowing about the small blonde boy’s smirk as it stretched across his face.
“Can I try them on?” Hanji asked holding her arm out.
“No!” the teacher almost shouted, it was at least louder than he had intended. “We’ll run out of time for our other friends,” he pointed out. He was in his right mind to just cancel the rest and take the fail, when Mr. Zackly interrupted- again.
“Yes, I agree with Mr. Smith, Ms. Zoe, I am really curious to see what else your class has brought in.” Did Erwin detect a note of amusement in his voice? Please, let it be amusement.
“Well, it’s my turn,” Armin said heading to the front of the class. The boy was a certifiable genius, he should have something good. A decent discovery. As long as he didn’t mention his mother or her bedroom, or her bathroom, he felt things would be alright.
“Alright. My discovery is long, goes where it’s wet and my mom calls it the S.S. Smith. What is it?” There it was. His mother’s name. Shit, his name too!
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Armin, but I’ll have to stop you there; look at that, we’ve run out of time,” Erwin said putting a hand out to grab the young child’s bag.
“Mr. Smith.” Mr. Zackly said, full voice or authority. “Young Arlert was presenting, and what you have done is very rude. Please go sit at that table over there so that you don’t interrupt any other presentations.” Erwin stared at him with incredulous eyes. He knew, KNEW what the kid was going to pull out, didn’t he? How could he not know? When the teacher hesitated, the principal sent him a stern look.
“Go ahead, son. Show us the S.S. Smith.” Mr. Zackly said, voice uneven.
“But nobody guessed.” Armin pouted. Eren put up his hand ecstatically. “Yes, Eren?”
“It’s a submarine! That’s the name right Ar? An S.S. is for a Submarine, right?” Armin beamed, nodding at Eren and took out a ten, no fifteen inch purple, plastic vibrator.
“Mr. Smith!” Eren screamed in delight, “it has the same name as you, it’s as if you are the Submarine.” he said, eyes wide looking from the vibrator to his teacher.
The teacher blew air into his cheeks, feeling his ears and neck burn, and nodded. “Looks that way, Eren.”
“But it doesn’t work anymore,” Armin continued looking at the vibrator and shaking it. “When Grandpa was babysitting me this weekend, I took it in the bath with me, and turned on the little motor,” he demonstrated by turning the knob on the bottom and nothing happened, “it worked fine before I put it in the water, but now it won’t work. The battery must be dead.”
“I bet your mom used it a llllllllllllot,” Levi said and the other kids nodded.
“Hey, Armin! I bet Mr. Smith has extra batteries! Can we play with it at the water table during Free Time, Mr. Smith?” Jean offered. But as usual, he was shut down by Eren’s high-pitched voice.
“My turn!” Eren bellowed. “Mr. Smith, I’m so excited, you’re going to love this. My dad helped me out.” Finally, Erwin thought. Some parental input. And Mr. Jaeger was a doctor, so this discovery would be educational, at the very least. For the first time, the teacher found himself pleased by the helicopter parents.
Eren made his way to the rocking chair and sat on it, as though he was preparing to tell his friends a fantastic tale.
“Last weekend, my dad went to one of his patient’s home because she was having a baby. I got to see the whooooole thing.” Erwin noticed Levi sit up on his knees, bum on his feet to better see his friend. His eyebrows were risen, a sure sign that he hadn’t heard the story yet.
“Can you give your hints, please Eren? I’m afraid we’re running short on time, Sweety.” Mr. Smith instructed, not wanting the kids to be given all the gory details of childbirth at the age of four. Unperturbed, Eren nodded and continued, shaking his bag in front of everyone.
“All I’m going to say Mr. Smith, is that those flowers we painted last week look a lot like where the baby comes from.” Erwin noticed all the students give looks of confusion and disbelief. Historia even whispered something to the effect of “they didn’t look like bellies.” The teacher gestured for him to continue.
“Okay, so my new discovery helps to feed a baby, it fits in the palm of your hand and it tastes awful. How do babies eat this stuff Mr. Smith?” Eren asked shuddering at the thought of it. Baby formula. It must be baby formula. Perfect. It could actually lead to a decent conversation about how various species feed their young at a later date.
Jean put his hand up to answer, he was the only one, but Eren refused to acknowledge him.
“Anyone? Anyone at all?” Eren asked. “No?”
“I’m right here, you midget lover!”
“Oi!” Levi said getting up to his feet and advancing on the boy who stood at least a head taller than him. It didn’t matter, if Erwin had to put his money on someone, it would be Levi; not that he would ever think of betting on his students. It’s not as though there weren’t a variety of secret betting pools in the office, like if Jaime and Kyle in the eighth grade were going to break up by graduation? Who would be the first student to get pregnant in high school? Which student would be going to rehab by Christmas? There were some about teachers as well; but he didn’t pay attention to any of them.
He stood from where he had been relegated by the principal and the two boys immediately took in his presence; it was enough to diffuse the situation so that Eren could go on with his Show and Tell.
“Levi, do you want to guess?” he asked his best friend.
“Milk? From the mommy’s ti- er, breasts.” It was a decent guess, Erwin thought. He was even more impressed that the little raven had managed to catch himself before slipping into another Kenny-ism.
“No, but it’s a good guess!” Eren encouraged. He dug deep into his bag, fishing around for something, and took out a five inch, shrivelled up, brown rope. “It’s an umbrella cord!” he said holding it up, as part of it crumbled into his hair. Then Erwin stared in horror as Eren brought it to his mouth and put it between his lips.
“Eren, no!” he said out loud, shocking his students and making Eren drop the decomposing embryonic piece.
“What, Mr. Smith? My dad explained to me that whatever the mommy eats, goes through this umbrella cord and into the baby. So if the mommy had Chinese food, the baby ate Chinese food too. It’s probably why I like pie so much. My mom loves pie! Especially my Dad’s pie!”
“It looks like a straw, Eren,” Hanji said, “and if the mommy had Chinese food, we should be able to taste a little bit of it left in there, right?”
“Exactly!” Eren said standing up, pointing at the science-loving student who also got up to her feet.
“I want to taste it, Eren. Please let me taste your straw!” Hanji whined.
“Hey Four-Eyes, nobody is going to taste Eren’s straw but me!” Levi said getting up as well.
“Children, sit down, please. Nobody is tasting Eren’s straw. I mean Eren’s umbilical cord. I mean, the umbilical cord Eren brought in. Thank you Eren, please put that back in the bag and come sit down.” Eren nodded and as he sat next to Levi, he saw Eren put a small piece of his Show and Tell project into the little boy’s hand and whisper “for later.” He would have to address that the moment Zackly left.
“Alright kiddos, it’s about time for Snacks…” he started.
“I believe we have time for one more, Mr. Smith,” the principal indicated nodding towards the clock.
Fuuuuuuck my life, thought the teacher. It wasn’t too late to leave the teaching profession altogether, was it?
“Eren, m’dear boy, why don’t you pick the last Show and Tell for today,” Zackly instructed. Eren nodded and pointed to Levi. Of fucking course. It couldn’t be worse than the vibrator, he told himself. Nothing could top the vibrator.
Zackly approached the teacher sitting at the table, legs way too big for the chair and sat down next to him.
“I’m going to have to leave, the Superintendent and Trustee are here today for a meeting, in fact they’re probably waiting just outside your classroom as we speak. This has been a nice distraction don’t you think?” His principal shot him a heartfelt sympathetic look, and Erwin felt like he could breathe again for the first time since coming in. “You have planning time last period, right? Come see me then so we can discuss next steps? Maybe we’ll do it over a drink down the street. You look like you could use one.”
Before he answered, Levi cleared his voice. They both looked up and the little boy stood at the front, having put a very large paper bag on the rocking chair. In fact, it stood nearly as tall as he did. The principal nodded at the teacher and left the classroom as quietly as possible.
“I found my new discovery in our basement, because we have lots of them, Uncle Kenny makes a lot of money selling them, and it’s my mom’s secret ingredient for brownies.” In his haste to get his presentation over with, the little boy pulled from out of the bag a two-foot-tall, potted marijuana plant, before even asking his classmates what they thought it was.
He must have been encouraged by the awed look his teacher gave him because he walked over, arms full of pot, and heaved it into his teacher’s arms.
“You can keep this one, Mr. Smith, for all the trouble we’ve caused you,” the little dimpled boy whispered.
At that moment, he heard the door to the classroom open, “Oh, Mr. Smith, I just forgot my clipboard-“ he heard Zackly say as he turned to take in a full view of the principal framed by the superintendent and the trustee.
*****
“Can I get a do-over, Mr. Zackly?” Erwin asked as he took a drink from his beer bottle.
The man nodded sympathetically. “You know, I taught all their parents, and that bastard Kenny Ackerman as well, right?”
Erwin returned the sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.” And he meant it.
“I managed. You’ll manage too. We’ll talk about it after your two-day suspension.”
Erwin nodded trying not to look too despondent.
“Don’t look like that, Erwin. Take it as a holiday. You’re still getting paid after all, just be happy you’re a contract teacher. Thank goodness you’re not an occasional teacher, you’d get nothing. See, it’s not so bad.”
“It will go on my record.” He said not meeting his superior’s eyes.
“Yes, I suppose it will,” said the older man sliding the teacher his own file. Erwin opened it and under “Reason for Suspension” he noted that the superintendent’s blurb had been whited out, and replaced by Zackly’s loopy script. The reason read: “On-going investigation: teacher is accused of assaulting an occasional teacher in the parking lot after work hours, no witnesses, victim’s word against the accused. Both teachers were given a two-day suspension by the board.” All it needed were Zackly’s initials at the bottom, which he promptly signed after taking the file back.
“The bastard should be leaving school shortly, he was in for Brzenska today. I’m sure if you rush, you can make it to the parking lot.” Erwin smiled, put a twenty on the table and walked out whistling.