Page 4 of Bear Strength

I turn my gaze to Dominick. He’s sitting on the chair next to me, and he’s not even half as nervous as I am. That pisses me off even more. We already had this conversation, more than once. I thought he understood that we both need to make some sacrifices, swallow some heavy words, and turn a few blind eyes. We need to make this work, no matter what. And, here I am, with him, waiting for his teacher to call me in, so she can explain what happened.

I look down the long hallway to my left. It’s empty. It’s after school hours. Luckily, I was working morning shift today, so when Dominick returned home with a note from his teacher for both of us to meet her at 5 pm, I was flooded by a whole avalanche of emotions. Worse yet, the only explanation to the reason behind him fighting with another boy was that he started it.

Dominick’s head is bowed down. I can see his fingers crossed in his lap, his feet firmly pressed to the tiled floor. His body is slumped forward, like there is a heavy burden pressing hard on him, and he is finding it increasingly difficult to keep on.

I lift my hand and gently caress his curly head. He immediately looks up, puzzled.

“You need a haircut,” I tell him, feeling the safety of this unbinding statement that has no relevance to our current situation.

He doesn’t say anything, and yet, I know he appreciates it. A rush of tears threatens to flood my eyes, and I quickly look up, as if that very motion would just make them return where they came from. Only two single tears slide down and I quickly wipe them with my sleeve, hoping that Dominick won’t notice them.

A moment later, the door opens, and a blond bobbed head peers at us.

“Mrs. Brunswick?” she asks, and I get up. “Please, come in. You can wait outside, Dominick. We won’t be long.”

I turn back to him, tapping him gently on the shoulder. He doesn’t look at me.

Slowly, I trudge into the well illuminated classroom. It’s surprisingly neat and tidy, with all the chairs pushed together, the whiteboard squeaky clean. The walls are covered with maps, diagrams, children’s drawings. I notice there is a small herb garden on the sill of the window, with brightly colored labels. Thyme. Basil. Coriander. I smile at it. I always wanted a little herb garden of my own. The feel of the fresh soil underneath my fingers, as I press the seeds deep into the ground. The anticipation of the growing plant. The gentle care you shower it with.

“Mrs. Brunswick?” I hear the teacher’s voice again, and it brings me back to reality.

She gestures at the seat in front of her, and I lower my body a little hesitantly.

“Thank you,” I manage a weak smile.

“I wish that the circumstances of our first meeting would be more pleasant,” she starts.

I glance over at her desk. Her name is Miss Fleur. I smile again. How perfect for a teacher.

“I don’t know if Dominick has mentioned what happened?” Miss Fleur inquires politely, her long eyelashes batting.

She is wearing a few pounds extra, but she hides them well in a puffy blouse and long, crease cut pants. There is a small brooch on her right breast. A miniature ladybug.

“Not much,” I shake my head, forgetting all about the ladybug. “He just said that the other boy started it first.”

“Well, you can imagine that Terry said the same thing,” she smiled.

“Of course,” I nod, but I don’t feel like smiling.

Dominick has been reluctant to mention anything regarding this incident. And besides, if there are no bruises, was it really so bad? Was this meeting really necessary? But, of course, I remain respectfully silent.

“Now, I know that you and Dominick moved here only a short while ago, and you are a single mother. Those are two things that make a new school a particularly difficult affair. We’ve received Dominick’s transcripts from his previous school, and in all honesty, I was surprised to see him get C’s.”

“He’s been under a lot of stress,” I nod, wondering what someone with the surname of flower could know about hardship. Not that I was willing to disclose anything. But, if she starts telling me that my boy is going down the wrong path, she’s got another think coming. Dominick is a good boy. But, any good boy can stray occasionally. Especially a boy who’s been through…

“Oh, I’m not saying Dominick is guilty here,” Miss Fleur interrupts my train of thought once more. “I simply wanted to talk to you, one on one, and ask you if there is anything I could help you with.”

I raise my eyebrow at her, because this isn’t what I was expecting. I guess I was expecting her to blame it all on Dominick, get him detention or some after school crap he wouldn’t particularly enjoy, and that’d be all. But, offering to help?

“I appreciate the offer, Miss Fleur,” I reply, a little more curtly that I planned on. “I really do. But, Dominick is fine. He isn’t a straight A student, but he’s smart as a whip. I’m sure this was just an isolated incident. I mean, boys will be boys, right?” I chuckle nervously.

I just want to go back home, hug my boy and watch a movie with him. Sometimes, the easiest solutions truly are the most effective ones. Ever since we moved here, I’ve been busting my ass off at the diner, and I guess I haven’t been around as much as before, and it shows. That’s probably why he’s acting out. To get my attention. That, and…

“Well, I’m sure that’s true,” Miss Fleur nods at me sweetly, her fingers crossed in front of her, resting on the desk. “But, I still want you to know that you and Dominick can come to me for help. We’re here to be there for one another.”

While that sounded like some cult crap shit, I still clench my teeth together and smile. I push the chair back slowly, signaling that I’ll be off. Luckily, she does the same.

“I appreciate you coming down to talk,” she rounds up this little meeting, and we shake hands. Her hands are cold, soft, but her handshake is firm.

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