Chapter 9
9
JONATHAN
T he air is heady with petrichor and the weather is crisp but not unpleasant. We settle at the edge of the lawn and I help Ray lay out our lunch. It far exceeds my expectations: fresh white rolls with cheese and jam, sliced fruit, potato crisps, chocolate chip biscuits and a big flask of hot cocoa.
We all tuck in—even Mal. At first in awkward silence. Then Enrique does something silly that makes Alisha laugh, and Ben snorts his cocoa and Mal teases him. Before long, they’re all chattering together as if I don’t exist and I feel like I can finally breathe again.
“I’m going to head back in, make sure the staff have lunch ready,” Ray says. “You want me to help pack this up first?”
“No, I think we’ll stay a while.”
Ray seems about to argue. But whatever it is they have on their mind, they don’t say it.
I watch them retreat across the lawn and then produce the ball. “Who wants to play a game?”
The children seem hesitant as I lead them onto the grass and have them stand in a circle. “The rules are simple. When you throw the ball to someone, you get to ask them a question.”
“Like a quiz?” Ben asks.
“No, not like a quiz,” I quickly clarify. “A question about themselves. Anything you want to know. The object of the game is that we all get to know each other a little better.”
“What if I don’t want to answer?” Mal asks, still defiant.
“That’s fine. You can pass the question to someone else.”
Ben asks, “What if I miss the ball?”
“Then you’ve got to fetch it.”
The first few rounds are a little slow. Alisha’s distracted by Enrique and Mal is hesitant to reveal anything about himself. But soon we fall into a rhythm.
I learn that Ben’s favorite color is pink and he goes bright pink himself when he admits it. The best food Mal’s ever eaten was a double decker cheeseburger with ketchup. Alisha’s favorite animal is a cow. Ben’s best memory is getting a chocolate sundae in bed on his sixth birthday. Alisha wants to live in a big house with a garden. She’s terrified of public speaking and has nightmares about fire. Ben loves old movies. His favorite is Titanic. Mal has never been to the cinema.
Enrique decides he wants to play too, but when Mal throws him the ball he runs off with it. Mal chases after him and the two of them tumble into the grass, giggling.
The afternoon passes without further incident. As we pack up to return so the children can get ready for dinner, I broach the subject of school again. “You know not all of our lessons can be like this, don’t you? I’m going to have to teach you, in the classroom sometimes. There may even be quizzes.”
Ben becomes very focused on his feet, but he nods. I dare not look at Mal, but I can feel the mood change in our little group, his very presence like a black cloud.
“Don’t worry,” Alisha says quietly as she folds up one of the blankets. “The Beast made it very clear to us.”
“What did he say?”
She shrugs. “He wants to be able to show us off. You know? How he took four fosters no one wanted and turned their lives around.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mal’s shoulders jerk when she says, ‘no one wanted’.
“Look, Alisha,” I say, gently taking the folded blanket from her, “Maybe that’s what he wants. But that’s not what I want. I want to help you get that garden, and some pet cows, and whatever else you dream about.”
A small smile flickers across her lips at that.
“This may be temporary, but that doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from it, right?”
It’s Mal who answers. “Now you think we’re going to like you because you played one game with us?”
“You don’t have to like me. I’m not here to be your friend, Mal. I’m here as a resource. Someone you can make use of for your own benefit.”
“We’ve missed a lot of the school year,” Alisha says before Mal can answer. “There’s no way we will catch up in time.”
“Let’s see how we go. This is certainly an environment conducive to learning. It’s so quiet out here, with so few distractions. You might surprise yourselves.”
Mal offers no comment, but the mood is distinctively somber as we trudge back to the house. It starts to rain again.
I’m so lost in thought as I head back to my room that I don’t notice Adam standing outside my door until I’m nearly on top of him. Which is saying something, considering the moving mountain of a man he is.
“Mister Belle,” he greets me icily. He opens my door, gesturing me inside.
My heart slams as I step into the room. “If this is about the situation with Mal earlier, I can explain.”
“Yes, you asked him to leave.”
I turn as he closes the door behind us. His expression is stony. Maybe this isn’t about Mal at all. Maybe he’s learned the truth about me.
I swallow. “Well, you see, with children it’s always better to let them get their emotions under control before?—”
“Which would be why you spent the whole day outside, playing ?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, it vibrates with barely contained rage. Geoff must have informed him.
Adam folds his arms. He’s blocking the exit. “You were hired to do a job, Belle. I’m concerned that you might not be up for it.”
“With all due respect, I consider this doing my job.” My voice only trembles a little.
“And when it comes time for them to take standardized tests, I suppose they’ll write ‘ball games’ under the section on mathematics?”
I stare at him. Emotional regulation aside, play is a critical part of how children learn. I want to tell him that but I’m so shocked that this is what he’s upset about that I can’t get my tongue to move.
“We already have a nanny. Your job is to teach them.”
“I am teaching them?—”
“How to play ball.”
“It’s only the first day?—”
He closes in on me. “I’m not sure anyone’s explained to you yet how critical it is that we succeed here. There is a lot on the line. It may be just a day to you but we’re in a situation, Belle, where every day counts. If you’re not up for the job, you need to tell me and you need to tell me now.”
I fight the instinct to back away. I’ve been bullied enough in my life. I won’t be bullied now. “Maybe you and I have very different ideas of what the job entails.”
He leans forward, practically looming over me. “Maybe we do.”
The threat of dismissal hangs unspoken between us. That’s probably why I throw caution to the wind. “And I suppose your idea of education matches your idea of a classroom? Children are to be seen and not heard, are to learn by rote, and let’s not forget the firm hand.” Now the initial shock has passed, hot rage floods through me. “Structure and discipline, isn’t that what you said?”
The Beast speaks through clenched teeth, leaning further forward, “Maybe you’re too soft to give them what they actually need.”
“And what is that?” Raising my voice at my boss—my giant, world champion wrestler, boss—is not a good career move. Probably not a good move in general. Every logical part of me is yelling ‘stop!’, but I can’t. This isn’t just about this encounter. It’s about the whole damned concept of what’s going on here. My chest burns. “They’re children ! Traumatized children. They’re not robots. You have no idea what they’ve been through?—”
“ You have no idea what they’ve been through. Why do you think I’m doing this?”
“This? You mean using them for your own prestige?”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “Watch yourself, Belle.”
Blood rushes in my ears, but it’s too late for self-preservation now. “This might just be marketing for you, but it’s real for them. What you do here is going to affect them for the rest of their lives?—”
“That’s the point!”
“Is it? Because I thought the point was to show them off at the end of it. That’s certainly what Meredith thinks. And it’s what they think too. They think you want me to transform them from who they are into children your rich friends can be proud to support. Extreme Makeover: Orphan Edition.”
Adam’s face fills my vision, flushed with rage. We’re so close he could punch me and I wouldn’t even see it coming. Yet I can’t seem to stop.
“Just what price should they pay for the privilege of being here? I’m sure a few tears are worth it. A few sleepless nights. A hungry belly now and then will certainly ensure they’re well and truly grateful.”
“ Enough !” The full power of his anger is like a crack of lightning, loud and sudden enough to make me jump, even though I was expecting it.
We stand in fraught silence. My frantic heartbeat fills the room. His nostrils flare. His eyes lock on mine. His chest is rising and falling and it seems like he’s struggling to get himself under control.
“Fine,” he says.
That was not what I expected.
He turns away. “Fine. One month. One month to do it your way. But you better not be wasting my time.”
Before I have a chance to respond, he’s swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I sink onto the bed, trembling so hard I feel like I’m going to rattle apart.