Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13)

by Heather Wardell

  Nope, I didn't need to communicate with Kegan.

  I turned over yet again and waited for sleep.

  After turning over at least another ten times, I again pictured the card in the garbage can. This time, though, I got up and fetched it out and tucked it into the bag of cards from my wallet in my dresser drawer. I still wasn't going to contact him but I would keep the card. It was a reminder that I could change. After all, if Kegan had done it I could too. He'd even said as much.

  I returned to bed and shut my eyes, and fell immediately into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I gave everything I had to my work with Khalid over the next few days, but it wasn't enough. After school Tuesday I told Omar and Katherine, so frustrated I was near tears, how much trouble I was having with him. "He won't sit still, he never does homework or participates in class, and he's talking or fooling around constantly so all the kids around him are distracted too."

  "You could try moving him to sit on his own, maybe?"

  I nodded at Omar. "I did. After lunch today. He's all by himself against one wall and I moved everyone else to be at least five feet away from him."

  "And?"

  I sighed. "He peeled all the paint off the wall and left a trail of little paint shards wherever he went. But he still didn't work. I tried to talk to him about it, but the harder I try to connect with him, the further away he seems to get."

  Katherine patted me on the shoulder. "I know, it's frustrating. But the others are working better?"

  I had to admit that was true.

  "Sometimes that's all you can do," she said gently.

  Anger flashed through me. "I can't just give up on him."

  Omar nodded but also said, "There's only so much you can do if he won't work, though. It's that whole thing about leading a horse to water but not being able to make it drink."

  My dad had always quoted that proverb as, "You can lead a horse to water but you can't teach it to fish," which I had thought made great sense when I was a kid as I couldn't imagine how a horse could handle a fishing pole. I'd actually been surprised to realize that wasn't how the saying went. The memory of that, of how logical I'd thought everything my daddy said was, made me smile. "Wouldn't it be a camel, around here?"

  Katherine and Omar laughed, and he said, "Sure. But the principle applies. Keep trying, I agree, but don't let it ruin your experience with your class."

  I tried, but failed, at that simple instruction over the rest of the week, and by Thursday I was at my wits' end. We had a math quiz first thing, which Khalid didn't even bother trying to complete, and then he spent the rest of the time until recess making fart noises with his armpit whenever I glanced away. Since fart noises are apparently universally amusing to kids, I had almost no control of the class the entire time despite all my cajoling and occasional outright begging, and I hated feeling so fluttery and ineffectual.

  Right before recess, all the kids but him were reading silently because he was sitting staring vaguely into space having apparently grown bored with his armpit. I hated that I was starting to agree that at least he wasn't bugging the others. I wanted to reach all of my students. Hoping maybe his silence was a good sign, I went over and said softly, "Khalid, thank you for being quiet. If you'd rather pick out a different book to read you can."

  He looked at me, his brown eyes cold and his face expressionless, and said, "No, Miss."

  Not sure what else to do, I gave him a small smile and headed back to my desk. On the way, I bent down to pick up a pencil someone had dropped and Khalid made a perfectly timed fart noise as if I'd been the one to supply it.

  The previously silent room exploded in laughter, and I exploded too. "Khalid, that is enough. The rest of you get your coats on for recess and line up in the hall without a sound. Muneera, knock on Mr. Omar's door and ask him to watch you all. Tell him Khalid and I are going to Miss Wrigley's office."

  My obvious anger earned me the best behavior I'd ever had from my students, and that made me even angrier. Why did I have to be a jerk to get results? I stood beside Khalid's desk, vibrating with rage, as the others slipped on their coats and left the room in utter silence. Once they'd all left, I said, "Let's go, Khalid."

  "No," he muttered.

  I turned to him, incredulous. "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. I've been as patient with you as I can be and I'm done. You are being rude and disrupting the others and we are going to see Miss Wrigley. Now."

  "Please, Miss," he said even more quietly. "I'm sorry."

  I stood, torn. I didn't think he'd change without being forced into it by Janet, but I didn't want to take him to see her any more than he wanted to go. It was too much like giving up and I'd vowed I wouldn't do that.

  "Miss Larissa?"

  I looked up to see Omar at the door giving me a concerned look. "I'm watching your students as you requested. Is everything all right?"

  "Unfortunately Khalid's chosen to behave badly today," I said, echoing the language I'd heard the other teachers use. "We need to go speak with Miss Wrigley about it."

  "Miss," Khalid began in agony, but Omar interrupted him. "If you're not back by the end of recess," he said to me, "I'll make sure the rest of your class settles in."

  "Thank you." I wanted to ask him if he really thought I should take the kid to Janet but I could hardly do so in front of Khalid.

  "That's quite all right," Omar said, giving me a faint nod. "I'd say you should go now if you're ready, before she decides to go out on the playground. That's what I would do."

  I smiled at him, appreciating his intuition. "Sounds like a good plan."

  Omar smiled back and turned away to return to our students, and to Khalid I said, "Let's go."

  The kid gave me the kind of face for which the term 'puppy-dog eyes' was invented, but I looked away. "Let's go, Khalid."

  I began walking toward the door, praying the kid was following, and after a second I heard his chair scrape back and his feet clomping along behind me. I waited at the door until he caught up, then we walked down the stairs and to the office in silence.

  Zainab looked up at my arrival, her smile fading when she saw Khalid. "Ah. Do we need to speak with Miss Wrigley?"

  "No, Miss," Khalid said, as if she'd been asking him, but I nodded.

  "I'll let her know," Zainab said, and disappeared into the office for a moment before coming out and saying, "Go ahead."

  I honestly wasn't sure whether Khalid or I was more reluctant to go. Since I'd never taken a kid to the principal in my oh-so-long career as a teacher I didn't know what to expect. Khalid clearly knew all too well, because the moment we crossed the threshold he burst into tears and said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

  Janet raised her eyebrows at me. "Have a seat, Khalid, Miss Larissa. What's happening?"

  I told her briefly how disruptive he'd been, managing to cloak 'fart noises' in 'making rude sounds with his hand and armpit'. Janet understood me at once, though, and I saw her wrestling with a smile.

  "Well," she said when I'd finished. "Khalid, what do you have to say for yourself?"

  He stared at his feet, sticking straight out in front of him because the bend in his knees didn't reach to the front edge of Janet's adult-sized guest chair, and didn't answer.

  As Janet let the silence lengthen, I wondered what else I could have done. I really hadn't wanted to bring him here and there had to have been some way I could have prevented it. He seemed so small now, so small and fragile, and though he'd aggravated me beyond endurance I still felt bad for him.

  He didn't speak, and Janet said, "You know you can't behave like that in a classroom, Khalid. You do know that, right?"

  He nodded, still staring at his feet, and gave a little sniff. I looked closer and realized he was fighting back tears.

  I looked at Janet, feeling like the world's second-biggest monster who'd delivered the poor little kid to the world's biggest monster, and she shot me a quick wink before saying in a serious tone, "Khali
d, do you want to come back here again?"

  Without looking up, he shook his head hard.

  "Then you'll behave. Right?"

  He nodded.

  "Anything you'd like to say to Miss Larissa?"

  "I'm sorry, Miss," he mumbled. "I'll be good."

  My throat tightened, confusing me. Why was I so emotionally affected by the little weasel who'd pretended I'd farted? I cleared my throat. "Thank you, Khalid."

  "Khalid, you can go wait in the hall outside my office for Miss Larissa. She'll come out soon to take you back to class."

  He looked up then. "No recess?"

  She shook her head, and he slumped out of the office.

  When he was safely gone, she smiled at me. "That'll scare him straight for at least a little while. Enjoy the peace."

  I blinked, and she laughed. "It's not like having your appendix out, coming to see the principal. It won't fix the problem forever. But it's a step in the right direction."

  To me, having given up just like I'd promised myself I wouldn't do by taking him to see her, it felt like a massive step backward.

  *****

  While I still didn't like that I'd taken Khalid to see Janet, I had to admit it had been effective. For the rest of the day he sat properly in his chair and left the last remnants of paint on the wall and even answered a few questions in science class.

  Once the kids had left at the end of the day I sat at my desk feeling an odd mix of emotions. It was definitely more pleasant to teach with Khalid not acting up, but I hadn't been able to make that happen myself. I didn't know whether Janet disapproved of my taking the situation to her but I certainly did.

  A light knock at the door made me jump. Sure it would be Janet, nerves swept me as I looked up, but they faded away at once to be replaced by mild surprise. "Hi, Amirah. How are you?"

  She walked toward my desk, her long black dress and headdress as always covering everything but her face and hands. I'd learned the dress was called an abaya and the headdress a hijab, but I hadn't yet learned to feel comfortable seeing a woman in them. Wasn't she bothered by hiding herself so completely because some man told her she had to dress that way?

  She turned back and closed my door, and as she did I got a good look at the way her hair distorted the back of her head beneath the hijab and found myself wondering how long it was. Katherine had told me that the longer the hair, the more devout the woman, and she'd also told me that many women hid yogurt or margarine tubs in their hair beneath their hijabs to bulk it out and make themselves appear even more devout. I wondered if Amirah did that, and what she thought of me with my loose shoulder-length hair and work-appropriate but not overly baggy clothing.

  Once the door was closed, she pulled a chair over to my desk and settled into it. "I'm all right. You?"

  I nodded, confused. We'd exchanged friendly greetings in the halls and the staffroom, but neither of us had shown any particular interest in getting together to chat as she seemed to have now.

  We sat in an awkward silence for a moment before she said, "I heard about Khalid."

  I blinked. Amirah taught grade six and had nothing to do with Khalid. She'd been in the staffroom when Omar was trying to make me laugh over the kid's impeccable comic timing with his sound effects, but why did she care?

  "I think you shouldn't be too hard on him. He's trying to be good."

  I stared at her, and she reddened. "I assume he is, anyhow."

  Now I was really confused. "How would you know what he's doing or not doing, or his motives? You haven't seen him in my room." The younger kids had a different area of the playground than the one used by grade six and up, so I added, "You wouldn't even have seen him at recess, would you?"

  She sighed. "I see him at my sister Nour's house. Khalid is my nephew."

  "Oh! I didn't know that."

  "I thought it'd be better if we kept it quiet. I didn't want him to be stuck with extra-high expectations because he's related to me."

  He wasn't even living up to the average expectations, never mind extra-high ones.

  My face must have revealed what I was thinking because her eyes narrowed. "He's had a rough year, you know. His father left two years ago and Khalid adored him. Plus, you're his third teacher this year. It's been difficult for him."

  "And for the other students too, I would think." I kept my voice as neutral as I could, not liking where I thought she was heading.

  "But Khalid is different. He was very attached to Katy, his first teacher this year. After that, he had a lot of trouble with Helena because..." She shrugged, and I realized with a jolt that she was near tears. "I don't know why. He used to be such a sweetheart. His teacher last year adored him. But once Katy left everything came apart."

  I didn't know what to say.

  She sighed. "I know he can be disruptive. I guess I'm just asking you to... look the other way a little bit, maybe?"

  I shook my head slowly. She'd headed exactly where I'd been afraid she would. "I'm sorry he's having a hard time this year but I just can't do that. It wouldn't be fair. He's making everyone else's year a lot harder too."

  "Especially yours, right?"

  I blinked. "What? No. I meant--"

  "I get it now." She stood up. "First year teacher, can't control your class, and Khalid just proves it so you don't like him."

  I stood too. "I controlled it just fine until Khalid showed up."

  "Well, maybe he should be in someone else's class. Katherine's or Omar's."

  "You say that like it's a threat. Trust me, I'm okay with it." As I said it, though, I remembered how I'd felt about the kid as he sat trembling in Janet's office and I wondered if I really was.

  I didn't have time to think about it. "Fine. I'll suggest it to my sister," Amirah said, her eyes cold, and swept from the room in a swirl of black fabric.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next two weeks were the longest of my life. I did everything I could think of to reach Khalid but to no avail. He didn't push it so far as to force me to take him to Janet again, but he was dancing on the edge at every moment. I could tell he was watching me for a reaction, and so I did my best not to give him one when he misbehaved and to praise him lavishly when he was even close to appropriate, but being so tense and alert the whole time was exhausting.

  Amirah either hadn't told her sister to have Khalid moved to another class or the sister had refused because I'd heard nothing about it, and though I didn't want to give up on him I couldn't help wishing he'd been taken off my hands. At the same time, though, I hated that I'd told Amirah, his aunt who obviously loved him, that I didn't care whether or not he was in my class. He did frustrate me, but I honestly hadn't meant that. I worked extra hard with Khalid and gave Amirah several status updates to prove that to us both. She and I weren't exactly friends, but she did seem to appreciate my efforts with the kid. If only they were actually having an effect.

  "One more day of work before two glorious days of freedom," Leon said, smiling first at me and then at the others around the table at the Lebanese restaurant. He'd let it slip last week that today was his thirty-seventh birthday so I'd arranged a little surprise party.

  Leon and I saw each other nearly every night, usually for a quick dinner and unfortunately still quick sex, and we bickered nearly every night too. Tennis was a frequent cause of our fights, since he still insisted we play regularly and I still hated it, but we also argued over whether I should be spending time on the weekends with him or with my schoolwork. I did like that he wanted to be with me, since he was my best and only boyfriend option, but I hated how little he cared about his job and how little he thought I should care too. He didn't seem to understand why it mattered to me, and I wished he understood that, and me, better. Could he really like me if he didn't?

  But when we arrived at the restaurant and he saw our coworkers and realized what I'd set up for his birthday, he'd given me a huge smile and kissed me full on the mouth in front of them though public displays of affection w
ere frowned upon in Kuwait, his lips lingering on mine until Katherine laughingly said, "Get a room, you two,", and since then he'd had his arm draped around my shoulder in a casually possessive manner. It made me feel good, and safe, and like I belonged with him. Like I was in a real relationship.

  Which of course I was, so I pushed the thought aside and said, "What's everyone got planned for the weekend?"

  Katherine pulled the rose-printed cardigan that matched the soft pink of her dress tighter around her and sighed. "I was supposed to go to Dubai with Gunther but he's angry with me so he's going on his own."

  Leon smiled at her. "You look like a walking flower garden today. Who could be mad at you?"

  I didn't enjoy hearing the seductive tone I liked being directed at her, but she didn't seem to notice it. "He's always angry." She sighed again. "I'm just not right, I guess. I try but I do things wrong."

  I wasn't sure what she meant by 'things', but Amirah stepped in. "He's the wrong one, telling you what to do and how to be and becoming angry when you do not obey him like a slave."

  I glanced at her heavy dark clothes. Wasn't she obeying some man by wearing them? She had a point, though, even if it was hypocritical, so I said, "I'm sorry he's being like that. It doesn't sound like it's fair."

  She sniffled and nodded. "I know." She took a breath as if to say something else then shook her head sharply. "Never mind. So I'm doing nothing. What about the rest of you?"

  A yawn unexpectedly hit me, and I slapped my hand over my mouth to hide it. The others laughed, and when I'd recovered I said, "Sorry, long week. I guess I'll be sleeping a lot on the weekend."

  Leon rubbed my shoulder. "Need help? Or company?"