by Irene Bolton
Honestly, at first, I decided that everything would not be so difficult. As it turned out, Karina had many allies in the mansion. Hearing the sonorous voice of the child, Anna who was the cook and housekeeper flew out of the kitchen. During our first acquaintance, she seemed taciturn and strict. But at the sight of the girl, her full face broke into a happy smile. Initially, I had the impression that she was closed and uninviting, but at the sight of Karina, she suddenly turned into another person – happy and loving.
“How thin you’ve become,” she said, clasping her hands and immediately wrapping Karina in a tight hug. “Well, I’ve already made pancakes for you. You remember how you always loved them?”
“Of course!” exclaimed Karina. “I'm ready to eat a million pancakes.”
“Well, I haven’t made that many,” the woman laughed. “But I'll think of something.”
Ten minutes later we were seated at the kitchen table with a spread of pancakes before us. Karina sent one piece after another to her mouth, closing her eyes blissfully.
“This is not oatmeal,” she proclaimed. "Although Mom says that's very healthy food. But pancakes taste better.”
“Why aren’t you eating?” Anna asked me. “Do not be afraid to get fat, not with Karina!”
The girl and the cook exchanged understanding glances.
“I'll make you some,” Karina said, and I smiled gratefully. Those were her first words addressed to me. It was important to establish contact with her. And to be honest – I just really wanted to eat.
“Just do not shred them with a knife and fork,” Karina was talking, neatly stacking pancake after pancake on her plate. “It is a thousand times tastier to eat them with your hands. Spread Nutella or jam on them, roll them, and ah-ah! Done!” She placed several beautiful pancakes in front of me, their delicious aroma wafting upwards. “Help yourself!”
I obediently doused the top pancake in cherry syrup, folded it like an envelope, anticipating how I would eat it picked it up and... And screamed. There, right on the ruddy butter crust of the second pancake sat... a cockroach! A disgusting fat cockroach! With a nasty mustache! An absolutely, abnormally large cockroach… Probably exotic. Apparently the ‘owners’ had accidentally brought it with them from a distant country. What if it bit me? Or worse, flew at me? My mouth went dry from horror. I froze, unable to move.
The pancake envelope fell from my weak fingers, flopped down onto my skirt and rode down my leg, leaving a sticky, syrupy cherry trail. I jerked in response, hitting my knees on the table and accidentally knocking several sauce boats... They cracked, covering the floor around me with porcelain shards, Nutella stains and cheerful colorful blots of jams and syrups. But I did not care. I kept my eyes glued to the insect. What if it jumped? I’d immediately die of a heart attack!
What the hell was going on in this house?
I must have said it out loud, because I heard Anna's voice, “It's okay!” She came and picked up the cockroach with a spoon. Fake. When Karina had visited last time, she had put them all over the house. I had been genuinely frightened at first. It had looked painfully real, as if it were alive.
Anna looked at the little girl and shook her head reproachfully. I also looked at Karina. She innocently shrugged her shoulders and looked down, but there was no sign of remorse on her pretty face. She glanced at me repeatedly, waiting for a reaction, but I pulled myself together.
“After you finish breakfast,” I said in a calm voice, rising from my chair, “go up to your room.”
I casually walked through the splinters and stains, took off my shoes and picked them up. Then, I walked barefoot to the door. There I turned to Karina and explained, “According to the schedule, you have a French lesson”.
Looking at her completely puzzled child’s face, I added, “Do not be late, please,” and departed the room.
If earlier I sincerely believed that on the day of my arrival I could forget about the lessons, now I did not intend to let her rest. It would be better to use all her energy in a more peaceful way. Now I began to understand her mother, who filled her days with lessons.
Chapter 7
As soon as the door of the kitchen was far away and curious eyes could not reach me, I sprinted along the corridor, flew up the stairs and literally fell into my room. Five minutes later – washed, in a new blouse and skirt – I tiptoed down the hall in the direction of my pupil’s bedroom. The clothes and shoes that had suffered in the battle against the cockroach, pancakes and jams had been left in the shower. I would think what to do with them later. Now the main thing was speed. If Karina came upstairs before I could enter her room, the effect would be completely different.
But Karina entered much later than I expected. Waiting for her, I managed to sort the books that were in the legendary suitcase. And I even looked through the lesson plan that was attached to those books. The program, in my opinion, was a bit too complicated for a six-year-old child. However... the more tired she became during the lessons, the less strength she would have for dirty tricks and pranks.
But, alas. This unbearable child easily confuted all my pedagogical experience. She did not come in five minutes, nor in ten, nor in fifteen. It was only after twenty minutes, when I was ready to go down and drag the girl up the stairs, that lazy steps approached the door. The door slowly opened and there she was – my new charge, with a sad face.
The lesson was off from the very beginning. Karina could not concentrate, and instead of looking at the book, she rocked on the chair, ran her fingers along the table and kicked her legs.
I was not sure of the reason: the girl could have been tired after the long flight, over excited after the suitcase and cockroach pranks, unbalanced after such a short meeting with her father or perhaps it was just an innate stubbornness that prevented her from working. I refused to allow myself to play by her rules.
“Karina, are you tired?” I asked, putting the book aside. She straightened, glanced sideways at me and said carefully, "Well, uh …”
I could see that her pretty head was already filling with sinister plans at the mere hint of free time.
“Of course, the terrible flight, and the stress at the airport, and so many pancakes...” I shook my head sympathetically, giving her a compassionate look.
A shade of suspicion flashed across her black eyes.
“You need a nice long sleep! Right now! Yes, a nice deep sleep!” I said, as if this thought were the best idea to come to my mind in a year. “I guess, three hours should be enough. Do not worry, I'll draw the curtains, and it will be nice and dark. And I'll sit quietly next to you, so that nobody disturbs you…”
Karina looked terrified. And there it was, the final chord...
“They always sleep in the kindergarten at this time..." Karina frowned, trying to find a way around the wall I had erected in front of her. Suddenly her face lit up, and I felt uneasy. This little devil had just made something up!
“I'm not tired,” she sighed sadly. “It's just that, it's not like that. I am not used to it...Usually my nanny and I before classes…” Karina lowered her head and fell silent.
“Well? What do you usually do before class with your nanny?” I asked, trying not to sound too tense.
“Well, we’d always begin with a magic song. She would sing it to me,” the girl said hesitantly. “After that, I finish all the lessons quickly and we go for a walk.”
“And what is this song?” I asked cautiously. Karina then willingly sang the children's French couplet, demonstrating excellent pronunciation.
"Well, I can do that," I smiled. A song was good, it was not a cockroach on a plate. I quietly picked up the melody.
“No no!” Karina waved her hands dramatically. “This song cannot be sung simply! It is necessary to dance while singing!”
She jumped up from her chair and began to tap her feet cheerfully. I hesitantly got up and followed her movements. Her last nanny must have been a real dreamer! I hope I did not have to perform acrobatic sketches o
r jump with an umbrella out of the window like Mary Poppins to calm the child. Although, the child seemed to have enjoyed the event. She clapped her hands and danced around me. Her braids also danced, bouncing cheerfully.
“Now turn around!” demanded Karina, and she turned, very fast.
I smiled and, continuing to sing and keep the rhythm with my foot, obediently made a circle.
But when I turned to face her, the words of the song got stuck in my throat. Karina was not dancing anymore. She was using a phone to film everything that was happening.
“Give it back!” I ordered, completely taken aback and so forgetting all my pedagogical skills.
“And here you are!” cried the little devil, hastily hiding the phone behind her back. “First, I'll show it to my dad, and then to my mother, and then to John! That will be so funny!”
She launched out of the room and rushed down the corridor.
Cursing myself for allowing this little girl to make me look so foolish, I raced after her. I didn’t want this dance appearing on the Internet! Or, worse, it could be seen by the boss... I imagined how he would raise an eyebrow and ask in an icy voice, "Are you crazy?!" That mental image gave me more energy, and I rushed forward three times faster.
Karina was already on the stairs, looking around vigorously and teasing me with her phone. Foolish girl! She could fall, kill herself...
“Careful!” I screamed in horror and sped after her.
The skirt was too narrow, so I couldn’t move freely. I tripped, waved my hands trying to grasp the handrails and fell down the stairs with a thud.
For a second, I was afraid to even move. Something was flashing in front of my eyes, but I could not focus properly. Something was ringing in my ears. Then the ringing grew louder, rather, it was not even a ringing, but a thin howl, as if a puppy were whining. I opened my eyes in surprise. I saw the frightened face of Karina. The sound was coming from her. Noticing that I had regained consciousness, she wrinkled her face like a baby and burst into tears, burying her face in my chest. Hot tears burned my skin.
“I did not want to...” she said sadly. “Honestly…”
I looked around, gently stroking the trembling child's back. Fortunately, the staircase was not high, and I lay on a narrow platform between two spans. Apparently, this house was built to accommodate the small child who would live here. And perhaps not only one. So, they cared about safety. Well, you could say I had been lucky.
Karina raised her red face and stared at me with completely unhappy eyes. “Are you in pain?” she sobbed.
“Yes, it’s very painful,” I admitted honestly.
“Forgive me...”
“Don’t worry, Karina. I forgive you,” I smiled and tried to move my arms and legs. It seemed that nothing was broken. Nevertheless, she was to blame. Oh, it was so immature of me. To have given chase on the stairs. A disgrace. “Just get off me, please.”
Her tears instantly dried up, and Karina inquired curiously, “I will. But first tell me, why are you so angry?”
“Because taking videos of people without their permission, and then laughing at them, is not how a good girl should behave. It is very dishonest,” I replied. “Now if you, for example, did something stupid, and I took a photo of video of you and showed it to everyone, would you like it?
Karina shook her head and said thoughtfully, “You should always think before you do something...”
She even said it the same way her daddy had. And she was clearly very intelligent. She was a fast learner. It seemed I was starting to like her. Karina rolled off me and immediately began doing something with her phone.
“Who even gave it to you?” I grumbled.
“Mom,” the girl confessed. “She said that I would be the first person she will call after the surgery. So, that's it. I deleted the video. Let's go study.”
“Good. Just give me five minutes.”
Five minutes later I again walked down the hall, in another fresh outfit. The skirt, which had torn as a result of my flight, and the blouse, wet from tears of remorse, had joined the pile in the corner of the shower. I hoped this attempt to teach this stubborn child would be more successful than the previous one.
And so, it was. If Karina was motivated to study, the lessons with her turned into utter pleasure. She grasped new material very quickly, and easily remembered words.
“You're doing fine!” I praised her, slamming the textbook closed.
“Now we can walk in the yard?” She rejoiced. "I want to build a sandcastle!"
The day was sunny and warm, so sitting indoors would be a crime. I nodded. Karina cried out, victorious, picked up her excavator and again raced out of the room. I followed her. My leg was still aching slightly, so I walked slowly. When I got down to the yard, she was already building something.
Well, if you can call it that. Directly in the middle of the neat green lawn, the legendary toy excavator stood. It was roaring wildly, digging a pit right in the middle of the lawn, shoveling out lumps of soil and grass.
The lawn, which had looked so perfect this morning, now looked miserable. Stan would not be pleased.
"Stop it!" I cried as I rushed out to the stupid excavator, only bringing about more problems.
“No way!” Shouted Karina in reply. "It's broken."
And judging by her frustrated face, she was not lying this time.
As soon as I approached the excavator, it went crazy. It began working with a violent force, as if it were going to dig through the earth, exit out the other side and chase the local aborigines. What was the mother thinking when she bought such a dangerous thing for her child?! Dirt flew in all directions, covering me with mud from head to toe. I covered my eyes with my hands and tried to inch closer to the dangerous toy.
Suddenly everything went quiet, the monster thing on the lawn went still. And then my legs parted on slippery mud, and for the second time that day I flopped down in the most insulting manner. And I was not at all surprised to see a sad face appear in front of me.
“The batteries are out of charge,” Karina stated and sighed.
I was delighted. The first good news of the whole day. Luckily this terrible toy would not bring further destruction. The only thing that was needed was to hide all the batteries in the house.
"Listen, why are you doing this?" I asked, trying to rub off the dirt and glancing down sadly at my dirty clothes.
This was the third hopelessly spoiled outfit within a few hours. It was all too much. If my wardrobe continued to suffer at that rate I’d have no clothes left to wear by the end of the week.
"I'm just very bored," the girl confessed. "I do not have any friends here, there’s no one for me to even play with.”
For a moment I imagined the following: Karina with a bunch of other girls running around a playground, playing with a toy magic wand. Meanwhile, I was sitting on a bench with other nannies discussing the difficulties of our work. What a pleasant image.
"There's a playground nearby," I said. "And if we take a quick shower now, we can take a little walk." Surely, other girls would also be playing there.
“Hooray!” Exclaimed Karina and ran into the house. It seemed that she did not know how to walk, only run. I sighed, and wearily followed her. The evening was still so far away, and I already felt drained.
Chapter 8
After about half an hour we were clean and happy, heading towards the playground. The private community in which Stan's mansion was located was quiet and calm. Strangers were not allowed in for security guards stood at the entrance, carefully checking the admittance of all intruders. There could be nothing to fear.
I held Karina's hand and tried to answer her endless line of questions.
“Why are those flowers multicolored? Is a lilac called ‘lilac’ because it’s a lilac, or is lilac ‘lilac’ because it’s the color of lilac? Why is yellow called ‘yellow’ and not dandelion? And why are the leaves green? Why does no one plant irises in the garden? Don’t you find that in
sulting? They’re beautiful too.”
The thoughts produced in that little head were quick and reckless as little colts. The walk was gradually turning into a Discovery Channel program with me as chief scientist. I had to admit, I was no good as a scientist, but the questions were so unexpected and direct, and there were so many – I bet any nanny would have gone crazy. The stream of questions suddenly stopped. Karina froze in the middle of one, looking up at me with big eyes.
“Can you hear that?” She asked.
“What?”
I also stopped and fell silent. A thin squeaking noise came from somewhere above. We simultaneously lifted our heads and saw a small kitten up in the tree. He was making mournful sounds, obviously unable to get down.
The girl was resolute before I even sensed that something bad might occur.
“We have to save him!”
“Of course, we will not leave him in trouble,” I assured her. “We’ll go home and call the rescuers. They will come and take the kitten out of the tree.”
She looked at me seriously, as an adult.
"Do you think Cinderella would leave the kitten in trouble?" Her voice was quiet and full of condemnation. "Or Snow White? Or Belle?”
Perhaps it was possible to change her mind. Perhaps I could find the words to convince the girl that Belle and Snow White would probably have let someone stronger do the rescuing. But I didn’t want to lie, looking into those wide-open eyes. And in general I was clueless to the actions of Belles and Snow Whites, but us Cinderellas, we never expected help from the princes. The Cinderellas of the world have a lot of work to do. We Cinderellas lead funny lives: try to relax or yawn and your carriage will immediately turn into a pumpkin.
I looked at the tree and spat on my hands.
The tree had many branches, and the kitten was not sitting too high. Perhaps I could manage. Good thing I had decided to wear jeans on the walk. Emulating a classy woman was easy indoors, but being outside required comfortable clothes. With such a restless ward as this one, even sleeping was better done in a tracksuit and sneakers. And a helmet.
