by Torey Hayden
I lowered my head.
Silence then.
I looked over. “You do know what the real problem is here, don’t you?”
“What’s that?”
“Julie.”
Bob nodded.
“I don’t know why,” I said. “I don’t know what went wrong. But we’re just on different planets. Everything between us just seems … slightly out of kilter. We’re just not a match made in heaven.”
“No, I’ve sussed that,” he replied.
Silence again.
“She can’t be enjoying it any more than I am,” I said. He nodded.
There was a pause.
“Any chance of her transferring?” I ventured. “Of giving her a different placement?”
“It’s gotten that bad?” Bob asked.
Until that moment, I hadn’t appreciated that it had. Throughout the year, I’d tried very hard not to think about Julie and me, about why we didn’t work together. There wasn’t really anything wrong with Julie. She wasn’t a terrible person. She didn’t have a horrible personality. And while her methods were different from mine, they were not glaringly bad. Inept and inappropriate sometimes, but not bad. And no doubt she thought the same of some of my methods.
I didn’t like admitting that I was not able to adapt to her in the classroom. I liked to think of myself as a flexible, easygoing person; I liked to believe I had enough charisma that sooner or later I could win anyone around to liking me, to liking my way of doing things. To acknowledge that Julie and I were not working out was also to acknowledge that these things weren’t really true.
“Has she said anything to you?” I asked, because it would have been easier if Julie were also uncomfortable enough with the situation to have spoken to Bob about it. Then I wouldn’t feel like it was just me, unable to cope.
“Well, not specifically on that. But she’s mentioned all these little disagreements often enough to me that I’d gathered things weren’t going well for you.”
I looked over. “So, any chance …?”
“Of a different placement? I don’t know. I’d have to look around. And we’d have to coordinate it with Casey Muldrow, because she’s still working with him in the mornings, of course. Plus, it’s whether she wants to do it or not. I couldn’t make her, because quite frankly, Torey, she hasn’t done anything wrong. And do remember this too—even if she would want to move, there’s also the question of whether there’d be another aide to come in and take her place. The alternative might be just you alone for the rest of the year.”
“I see. So, basically, no choices except bad choices,” I said.
“Or, as my psychology professor used to call these things,” Bob replied, “only inelegant solutions.”
Chapter
26
The next morning Venus wasn’t there. I didn’t wait this time to discuss it with Bob or anyone else. When lunchtime arrived, I piled into my car and drove over to her home.
When I arrived, there were two kids lounging on the wooden steps that served as a small porch at the door of the trailer. One was Venus’s sixteen-year-old sister and the other I didn’t recognize. They were leaning back against the wall of the trailer and smoking cigarettes.
“Hi, I’m Venus’s teacher. Is your mom here?”
“Uh-uh,” the sister replied. She took a long, slow drag on the cigarette and all the while looked me up and down in a lazy sort of fashion.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“Out, I guess. I dunno. But she ain’t here.”
“Can I see Venus?”
“You got to talk to my mom’s boyfriend,” she replied. “He’s baby-sitting.”
“Okay. So, where’s he?” I asked.
“Danny!” she shouted with such sudden loudness that I stepped back in surprise.
A few moments later Danny appeared in the doorway, but he didn’t open the screen door. His eyes were heavy-lidded, as if he’d been asleep. Or maybe he was just hung over. It was hard to tell.
“Yeah?” he said, as if he’d never laid eyes on me before.
“I’ve come about Venus. I’m her teacher. She isn’t in school today. She’s supposed to be in school.”
“We been told she’s going on homebound again. We been told not to send her to school,” he replied.
Startled, I peered at him through the screen door. “No one’s told me anything about that.”
“That’s what Social Services said. Said she’s going on homebound.”
“Social Services wouldn’t arrange something like that,” I replied. “Not without consulting us. And I’ve heard nothing about this. Why would they put her on homebound anyway? We’re not having any problems with her behavior.”
“Said it cost too much.”
“Homebound costs more than sending her to school does,” I replied.
He shrugged. “Don’t ask me. This is just what they said. Said all them aides there to watch her special cost too much money.”
I couldn’t believe this. Surely Social Services wouldn’t arrange such a thing. Surely they couldn’t without Bob’s input. And surely Bob wouldn’t do it without talking to me.
“Anyway, so we’re not supposed to send her to school. A teacher’s coming out,” Danny said.
“This can’t be right.”
He shrugged. “Well, you’ll just have to talk to them. But we’re just doing what we’re supposed to.” And he backed away from the screen and shut the inner door in my face.
I was dumbstruck. All the way back to my car, all the way back to school, I was too overcome with surprise to be able to puzzle anything out. Why wouldn’t Bob have told me, if this was a consideration? Indeed, it couldn’t be a consideration, because he’d been just as annoyed about her late arrival the previous day as I had been. But maybe the reason she’d arrived so late and so disheveled was due to the fact that Wanda had mistakenly thought she should be at school and had gotten her ready herself. That might explain that. Perhaps this even explained Venus’s unexpected tears, because she knew herself she wasn’t coming back.
All the pieces were coming together, but I was still baffled. Could Social Services do this? For the most part, we had a pretty good relationship with the people from Social Services. A lot of the children in our school were on their rolls, and both Bob and I had had many dealings with them. A couple of the social workers were a little dim and all of them were horribly overworked and horribly weighed down by the usual red tape of government bureaucracy, but for the most part, they were reasonable. Why would they have done this out of the blue without telling us? Had communications broken down that much between us?
Unfortunately, by the time I got back to school, the bell was almost ready to ring, so I couldn’t go talk to Bob. Instead, I went on up to the classroom. Julie was in there, straightening up the materials left out from the morning. It was the first time I’d seen her since Bob had come in for his little chat, and I found myself uncomfortable. Indeed, between her going to tell Bob about the things she disapproved of my doing and Danny’s telling me that Venus was supposed to go on home-bound, I felt a little paranoid. Maybe Bob was in on something to take Venus away. Maybe this was all some grand scheme everyone else knew about except me.
The afternoon was awful. I felt uneasy with Julie in the room. I felt concerned Bob knew things he hadn’t told me. I felt worried about Venus and her whole situation.
Billy burst spontaneously into song as we were standing around, waiting for the recess bell to ring, and I felt too self-conscious to join in.
“What’s the matter?” Billy said.
“Nothing,” I said.
“You’re not acting nice today,” he said.
“I am acting nice. I’m acting just like I always do. You pay more attention to how you’re acting.”
“How come you’re mad at me? I didn’t do anything?” he asked.
“I’m not mad.”
“You are mad. You’ve been mad all afternoon and no one’s done noth
ing! You’d make me go sit in the quiet chair if I was in a bad mood all afternoon.”
“Billy, everything is fine. You’re reading things that aren’t there,” I said and hated myself for lying. And hated him for being Billy and having to comment on everything. The recess bell didn’t ring a moment too soon.
After school, I went down to Bob’s office. I told him what Danny had said about Venus going back on home-bound.
Bob’s eyes widened. “Homebound? No. Not that I know of.”
“He said Social Services arranged it.”
“They wouldn’t do that. Not without talking to us, certainly. No, I don’t know where he’s gotten his information, but it’s wrong.”
“Social Services couldn’t arrange something like that, could they?” I asked. “Without our input?”
“I can’t imagine they’d want to. Did he tell you why?”
I shook my head.
“Something funny’s going on,” Bob said.
“He was very straightforward telling me. Seemed to know what he was talking about, because he referred to those extra aides that have been hired.”
“Yes, but it isn’t true.”
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“It can’t be true, Torey. We’d have to know. Homebound is an education issue. Even if Social Services did want to do it, even if it was some kind of emergency, they’d talk to us before or at least at the same time as the parents.”
“You’re sure?” I asked again. “Because he certainly sounded sure. And the way the right hand never knows what the left hand’s doing with us and Social Services and the police and … you’re absolutely certain?”
“Yeah, I am,” Bob said. “And I don’t like this guy. He’s got more tales than Paul Bunyon.”
Back in the room, I put my books and papers together. It had been an uncomfortable day and I didn’t feel like staying at school to do my plans, so I decided to pack up and go home. It was only about four-fifteen.
As I was going to the parking lot, I saw Wanda at the far end of the playground. She was picking dandelions from the long grass that grew against the playground wall. She clutched them in a tight fist, like a five-year-old would.
I crossed over the grassy playing field to her.
“Hi, Wanda,” I said.
She looked up.
“Where’s Venus today?”
“Her come to school,” Wanda replied cheerfully.
“No, actually, she didn’t. Did you forget to bring her?”
“Her no come to school.”
“That’s right. She stayed home today,” I said.
“Beautiful child.”
“Yes, beautiful child. Beautiful child didn’t come to school. Do you know why?” I asked.
“Beautiful child.”
“Yes, that’s right. She didn’t come to school. Why, Wanda? Why didn’t Venus come to school today?”
“Her come to school.”
“No, she didn’t come to school,” I said, a little frustrated.
Wanda lifted up the fistful of flowers.
“Tomorrow, Wanda, tomorrow can you bring Venus to school? Will you try to remember that?” I asked.
“Tomorrow?” she asked quizzically.
“Yes. Tomorrow. When it is day again. Will you bring Venus to school?”
“Her come to school.”
“That’s right. She must come to school. Will you try to remember that? Please? For me? Will you try to bring her to school tomorrow?”
“Beautiful child,” Wanda replied to no one in particular.
“Yes. Beautiful child.”
Bringing the dandelions right up against her nose, she sniffed them deeply. They made her nose yellow.
“Please? Can you remember?”
But she didn’t answer. She just turned and wandered off.
The next morning Venus arrived at school all by herself. Indeed, she was already at the school when I arrived. I saw her over by her wall, just leaning against it in the cool morning sun, and it occurred to me for the first time that she no longer sat on top of the wall. I hadn’t seen her up there in several months.
I crossed over to where she was standing.
“Good morning. You’re very early. Would you like to come into the classroom with me?”
She regarded me with dark, soulful eyes but did not speak.
“Here,” I held out my hand to her.
No response.
I didn’t take her hand. There were still thirty minutes before school started, so if she didn’t want to come inside, she had that choice. I waited a moment longer and then I turned and headed for the building.
She followed me. Staying about ten paces behind, she came with me to the door.
I paused there and held it open. Without speaking, we went inside and up the stairs to the classroom.
“How are you this morning?” I asked as I took out the keys to unlock the classroom door. “I missed you yesterday.”
She watched my face.
Inside the classroom, I put my things away. Venus took off her coat and hung it up. She was more appropriately dressed, although her clothes were wrinkled and shabby. This was not particularly unusual. She’d never come well dressed.
“Did you know I went to your house yesterday?” I asked. “I was looking for you.”
She regarded me.
“Did you know that?”
She shook her head.
“Danny said you were going to be taught at home again. He told me that. He said you weren’t coming to school again.” I pulled out the chair of my desk and sat down.
Venus was watching me very, very closely as I spoke, and as I did, I saw tears welling in her eyes.
“Is something going wrong?” I asked.
She didn’t respond.
“I’m beginning to have that feeling,” I said. “I’m beginning to think something isn’t right for you at home.”
Her face dragged down into a grimace of tears and she began to cry.
“Here. Come here, sweetie.” I reached out and pulled her up onto my lap.
Venus wept with the same heavy sobs as she had on the previous occasion.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong? What’s happening to you?”
She didn’t answer.
I was starting to have a very bad feeling. If Danny had made all that up, why? What was going on here?
“It’s important you talk to me, Venus,” I said gently. “Remember the other day when we talked? That was good. That was helpful. It’s important for you to tell me things because then I can help you.”
No response.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” I asked. “I can see you are unhappy. What’s the matter?”
She just cried.
How could I get her to open up? I had to be very careful what kinds of questions I asked if she did not volunteer information, because if there was anything illegal going on I could prejudice the outcome by asking the wrong questions. Indeed, I knew personally of two instances where abusers had gone free because their victims had been asked leading questions by psychologists or the police.
“Sometimes things go wrong at home,” I said quietly. “When that happens, it’s very important to tell grownups you can trust. Sometimes there are very big problems and they are too much for you to fix by yourself. Sometimes the problems are with moms or dads. Or stepdads. Or mother’s boyfriends. Sometimes there are problems with brothers or sisters. When that happens, the right thing to do is tell another grown-up. A safe grown-up. Like me. Or Mr. Christianson. So that we can help you solve it. So we can make it better again.”
Venus wiped away her tears with the cuff of her shirt.
“It’s okay to tell. Sometimes people say that you shouldn’t tell, because something is a secret. They say you should keep secrets. But that’s not true. The only kind of secrets that are right to keep are fun secrets. Surprise secrets. Like what you are giving someone for their birthday. But bad secrets shouldn’t be kept. If someone
tells you to keep something secret that’s bad, you don’t have to keep it.”
Laying her head against my chest, Venus sat quietly.
“And sometimes people say you shouldn’t tell, because if you do, they’ll do something bad to you. They’ll hurt you. Or they’ll hurt someone you love. Or they’ll take something away from you. Sometimes people even say they’ll kill you, if you tell. But none of this is true. They are only saying that to scare you. They have done something bad and they are afraid someone will find out and punish them, so they try to scare you into keeping their secret. But this is wrong. You shouldn’t have to do that. If someone says those things to you, you should always tell a safe grown-up who can help you.”
Venus never said a word.
For what felt like the umpteen millionth time in the last few days, I went down to Bob’s office.
“I see Venus is back,” he said.
“I’m getting really uncomfortable about all this. Why would this guy tell us that about homebound, if it wasn’t true?” I asked. “My gut instinct is that he’s trying to cover something up.”
“Probably. The question is: what?” Bob replied. “He’s a sleazy character. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. So he’s probably capable of being up to all sorts of things.”
“No. I’m thinking specifically to do with Venus. I mean, the law says, if there’s the suspicion of child abuse, we need to report it. I think it’s time to go official,” I said.
“Venus has told you something?”
“Well, no …” I explained her uncharacteristic tearful behavior. “That, in conjunction with her absences and her inappropriate clothing the other day and that Danny’s strange excuses yesterday. I’m thinking something’s happening to her that’s making it so she can’t come to school these days.”
Bob was thoughtful. Finally he shook his head slowly. “I don’t think that’s enough to actually file a report, Torey. A hunch isn’t enough. We need bruises or her saying something or … something more concrete. About all I can do is alert Social Services to your suspicions. Again. Because I think they’re probably waiting to nail this guy too.”
“What about you?” I asked. “What’s your take on this?”
