Page 32 of Ghosted By Texas

“Aren’t we supposed to be quiet in the hallways?” I asked before turning around to see who they were talking about. I was shocked to find Austin standing there grinning widely.

“Shit,” I mumbled.

“That’s a bad word,” Clara informed me.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll wash my mouth out with soap when we get to the bathroom.”

“Ew, that’s gross.”

“My mom did that to me one time when I said the F-U-C-K word.”

“You’re not supposed to spell it either, Jack,” I warned him much to the amusement of all the other children.

“Are you going to wash Jack’s mouth out with soap, too?”

“No, I think we can forgive this one small mistake, as long as no one else makes it. Two at a time, kids. Clara and Monique go on into the bathroom. Tommy and Brandon, go to the boy’s side.”

Four little children peeled off from the line and all but ran inside. Clara wasn’t the only one in need of a bathroom break. That meant their teacher didn’t take them before she brought them to my class, like she was supposed to. As per usual. She was a young math teacher and didn’t think I had a ‘real’ teaching job. Whatever the hell that meant.

I took a moment to glance back down toward my classroom door to see that Austin had helped himself inside. I had no clue why he showed up to my job or what to do about it. Once all the children had their chance to go potty, we marched back to the classroom to find Austin making himself at home while sitting in my chair at my desk.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered once I was close enough that the children wouldn’t hear me.

“I came to see when you got a lunch break, and the woman at the front office sent me on back. She said you had a planning period next, then lunch, and that you didn’t need to be here the rest of the day because there was some kind of field trip, so your other classes won’t be around.”

“Crap, I forgot about the field trip.”

“Even better, that makes me the bearer of good news.”

“Do you want a gold star?”

“Can I get a gold star?” Tommy asked. I hadn’t even seen the sneaky shit approach my desk. I glanced around to see that all the children were watching Austin and me.

“No, Tommy, you need to go back to your seat and get to work on your project.” Then I projected my voice. “Remember, we’ll be sharing your projects with your parents at the spring showcase! We all want to make the best clay pots we can, right?”

“I don’t like it when they’re squishy,” Clara informed me.

“I already baked them, so they aren’t squishy anymore. Now, they’re ready to paint.”

“My mom baked a cake lesterday,” Billy Seaport mentioned while replacing the ‘y’ with an ‘l’ again. Speech therapy had not worked wonders for him just yet. Before I could ask why his mom baking a cake was important, Billy licked his clay pot that looked more like an upside-down version of what his classmates attempted to make. It would have been cool if he’d done it that way on purpose.

“Billy, your pot is not edible, please stop licking it.”

“But you baked it, and mom baked a cake.” He scrunched his nose in distaste, just as I finally got his point. “Tastes like dirt. My mom should teach you how to makes them taste better.”

Austin cracked up laughing, unable to help himself. That only encouraged my students to start showing off for him.

“Look Mister, I made the bestest pot.”

“Best pot,” I corrected. Too bad for me, I forgot how quickly littles would compete for the ‘best’ slot. I’d only been correcting her English, not reinforcing the idea that hers was indeed the best. Austin was throwing me off my teaching game.

“In another environment, that might have been an inviting notion,” Austin cracked quietly to which I rolled my eyes.

“I thought mine was the bestess?” Grady called out.

David chimed in right along with him. “Nope. Ms. Robson loves mine better. She saids it has clean lines.” Dammit, the kid brutalized my name again.

“How can it be clean when it’s made of dirt?” Grady asked him in all seriousness.

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