Page 23 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
“Hard to say.” Kip’s expression turned more serious. “Oncethe college adopts the integration program, I’m sure we’ll see more around. ButI get the impression that they don’t want to scare people any more than peoplewant to be scared. Why do you ask?”
“I suppose I’m curious.”
“Nothing wrong with curiosity.”
Tami waved her hand. “But I feel like I’m curious for thewrong reasons.”
Kip dropped into one of the chairs across from her. “How so?”
“Well, I want to meet someone because of what they are, notbecause of who they are.” She searched for a good example. “It would be likedeciding I want to get to know Ash because I think he’s Native American. Or ifI’m only talking to you because I’ve always wanted a friend with red hair.”
To her relief, Kip was nodding. “You’ve really given this alot of thought.”
“As a kid, I was the only Asian girl in town. People made alot of assumptions about me because I look like my mother. And even though theynever meant anything bad by it, I still didn’t like being labeled. Somehow, Iwasn’t a person; I was a category of person. Whenever they generalized, it mademe feel likelessof a person.” Tami slouched back in her chair andindicated the fliers and brochures. “I’m upset with myself for doing the samething to people I’ve never met.”
“But you’re still curious.”
“Yes.”
Kip draped his arms on the edge of her desk, slouchingforward to rest his chin on them. “Hey, Tami?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re probably over-thinking this whole thing. Makingfriends starts in lots of different ways, and if curiosity is what gets aconversation rolling, what’s the big deal?”
She frowned thoughtfully. While she had no problem—absolutelynone—chatting with people around town or parents of her students or customersat the orchard, this was different in her mind. She didn’t want small talk andsmiles and setting people at ease. She wanted … more.
Kip was watching her with a little half-smile on his face.“I mean, think about me and Ash. Why would you ever consider hanging out with acouple of janitors? It wasn’treallybecause he’s half-Native American andyou have a thinly veiled passion for red hair.”
Tami laughed. “Of course not.”
“Thank back, then. Why us?”
“I guess because … you seemed nice.” Was it really thatsimple? She considered the man across from her and asked, “Why me?”
“Buttering up the boss!” He laughed at her expression andpointedly flicked his shoulder, making the gesture that he’d casuallyinterpreted asdon’t sweat it. “I told you, this isn’t really that hard.Why wouldn’t I want to hang out with you? You seemed nice.”
Kindergarten orientation was already underway when Tamislipped into the back of a classroom packed with youngsters and their parents. HarrisonPeck, the school’s attendance clerk, made an energetic emcee. He was at hisusual natty best, the real wingtip and bowtie sort. At first Tami had taken himfor a fresh-faced intern who was trying too hard, but after a few weeks, itdawned on her that he was the genuine article … and two years older than her.
He belonged in children’s television, and they were lucky tohave him. Meticulous to a fault, he never forgot a name and was genuinelyconcerned for every kid that passed through their doors.
Harrison was wrapping up a spiel on Landmark Elementary’scheck-in procedures and tardy policies, which was all well and good. What Tamicouldn’t quite figure out was why he was dressed as a crossing guard.
“… of course, one of my mostimportantjobs today ismaking sure you know who to tell when you need something.” Harrison raised ahand. “When you’re at home, who do you ask for help?”
The braver kids took the cue and answered variously, naming parents,grandparents, babysitters, and siblings. And Harrison let them share, givingthem his full attention. Then he took back the reins. “While you’re at school, you’llhave really nice grown-ups who are ready to listen and to help you. And you’llalways know us because we wear special nametags.”
Harrison showed the photo ID on his lanyard. “This means Ibelong to the Landmark Elementary family. I’m Mr. Peck, and you can recognizeme easily, because I always wear a bowtie, even to the grocery store.”
“It’s true!” called out one of the moms. “I’ve seen him!”
The kids giggled.
“Then there’s these guys. They’re fixer-uppers andcleaner-uppers, and they love recess.”
To Tami’s honest surprise, Ash strode purposefully to thefront. She hadn’t expected someone who made himself so scarce to willingly takecenter stage. He lifted his lanyard, then tapped the embroidered name on hiscoveralls. “I’m Ash.”
Harrison stage whispered, “You’re a grown-up, Ash. Thatmeans they should call you Mr. Fowler.”
