Page 14 of Hide and Sneak
Amos’s door is still shut. With us working opposite shifts, we don’t see much of each other, but I’ll catch up with him this weekend and see how his new job is going. At the sound of Sutton’s door opening, I snap Dusty’s leash on.
I could’ve sworn I heard him say something or make some noise last night right after I came. It could’ve been my imagination because that little toy makes my ears ring sometimes, and last night was no exception. Honestly, I doubt it was him. He works early and wouldn’t have been up that late.
He’s an ass, so if he did overhear anything, it won’t be long before he starts taunting me with it. I lead Dusty out the door, taking my cup of coffee along for our morning walk. When we return from our quick trip around the block, Sutton is just leaving, pulling the front door shut.
“You can leave it unlocked,” I call out and he nods.
Dusty paws at him like he hasn’t seen him in days. Sutton chuckles, sets down his water jug, and crouches down to pet him.He looks up at me, squinting in the bright sun. “Morning. Sleep well?”
Fuck.
His face is the picture of innocence as he awaits my reply. Is he being a smart ass or am I reading into it? “Fine, yeah.” I’m going to pretend he’s making the usual small talk whether that’s his intention or not. “Let’s go, Dusty. You’ll make me late.” I tug his leash and he reluctantly follows me back up the steps. When I glance back as the screen door shuts behind us, Sutton grins at me, but walks toward his truck without another word.
That…did not feel like a normal interaction. With him, it’s hard to tell. He could just be in a good mood and I’m being suspicious. Whatever. I’ve got to get to work. It isn’t until I’m nearly there and my stomach starts growling that I realize I forgot to eat breakfast.
A young woman is putting crayons out on the tables in my classroom. We sometimes have a college student shadow us or intern as assistants but we don’t have any scheduled as far as I know. “Hello?”
Her smile is bright and instant. “Hi.”
“Can I help you with something?”
Before she can answer me, Mrs. Thomas calls my name, her shoes clacking on the shiny floor as she rushes toward me. “Lila, I need to speak with you in my office, please.”
This can’t be good. Something fucky is going on.
She closes the door behind us and sits at her desk, gesturing for me to sit as well. “Did you take Freddie Morgan home when his mother failed to show up?”
Great. Someone ratted me out, though I can’t imagine who would even know. I’m not going to be questioned like a naughty child in a principal’s office. “I think you know I did.”
“You’re aware that’s against our best practices policy? In the event that a child is abandoned?—”
Is she serious right now? “He wasn’t abandoned!”
“The protocol is to contact children’s services. They are better equipped to deal with whatever problem has arisen. We are mandated reporters.”
“Did you call them?” I ask.
The aggression in my voice makes her blink. “Yes, I did. Not only did she fail to pick him up on Monday, Freddie disclosed to me yesterday that his mother is selling marijuana.” Mrs. Thomas handled my class dismissal yesterday so I could leave a few minutes early and now I bitterly regret it. That had to be when Freddie told her.
It’s not often that I lose my temper, but I’m teetering on the brink. This self-righteous, judgmental bitch doesn’t care about these kids. She cares about covering her ass.
“Let me guess. He said she works at a weed store.”
A smug smile flashes over her face before she reins it in and leans forward. “So he also told you, and you still decided not to make a report?”
Trying to resist the urge to reach over and choke this woman for siccing child protection agents on a single mother whose only crime was not being able to be in two places at once, I take a deep breath. “First of all, I did not take Freddie home. I took him to the hospital, which was where his mother was. Her other child was in surgery for a broken arm. Which is why she hadn’t picked him up.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t give her time. “And second, the weed store he’s referring to is a liquor store with a ‘We ID’ sign that he misreads as ‘weed.’ His mother works there.”
Her mouth pinches up. It looks like a tiny butthole, which tracks since she’s talking absolute shit. “Well, I wasn’t aware of that.”
“Clearly.”
“Regardless of Ms. Morgan’s hardships, it is against our policy to drive our students anywhere without a signed permission slip from the parent.” As she continues on her spiel of policy and insurance risks, I connect the dots. The woman in my room is a substitute.
“Are you firing me?” It’s the second time I’ve interrupted her and I’m not the only one fighting to hold onto a temper. The flare of her middle age, large pored nostrils displays that.
“I considered it. I can overlook your failure to notify child services since that can be a judgment call, but this is the second time you’ve violated one of our policies.”
