“Students, look smart,” Miss Ferris said the next morning. “We’re having a visitor after recess and I want you all to be on your best behaviour.”
I looked over to Linda. She arched an eyebrow. When Miss Ferris turned to write something on the blackboard, Linda leaned towards my desk and whispered, “It’s probably the inspector.”
I didn’t know what that meant. I noticed that many of the students seemed on edge and Miss Ferris herself spoke with a voice that seemed half-strangled. Whoever this inspector was, I didn’t look forward to seeing him.
I finally got my chance to ask Linda about the visitor once the recess bell rang. “They send a boss a couple of times every year,” she explained. “If a teacher isn’t doing a good job, she can get fired.”
“What about the students?” I asked.
“An inspector can cause trouble for students too,” said Linda. “If you’re late for school a lot or if you’re absent too many times, the inspector wants to see you. I dread it when they come.”
I thought of my horrible first day of school and how I had left school without permission. “Do you think I’ll be in trouble because of leaving school on the first day?” I asked.
She paused to consider. “If you were going to get into trouble, it would have happened by now. That was months ago.”
Her words made me feel slightly less frightened about the inspector’s visit, but like everyone else, I was not looking forward to it.
As we were lining up to go back into school after the recess bell rang, a black taxi pulled up. All I could see through the back window was the head and shoulders of a woman.
I nudged Linda with my elbow and whispered, “Is that the inspector?”
Linda looked doubtful. “I’ve never seen a lady inspector.”
Miss Ferris came out and made us step smartly in line. We marched into our class and took our seats. She rapped a ruler on her desk to get our attention.
“Inspector Sutton is here,” she said, a look of panic on her face. “When she comes in, I shall clap my hands twice and you will say, in unison, ‘Good morning, Inspector Sutton.’”
Just then the door flew open and an unsmiling woman carrying a black satchel strode in. Her grey hair was pulled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and she wore a brown tailored suit over a white men’s style shirt. When I had seen her in the taxi, I was nervous, but now seeing her in front of me, I was terrified. It wasn’t a normal kind of terror. Something deep inside told me that this woman was going to harm me. I had a panicked urge to bolt from the classroom, but the inspector was standing in front of the only exit. It was all I could do to stay seated. I gripped the sides of my desk to keep from shaking.
Miss Ferris was also nervous. Was she feeling the same as me? Her face was drained of colour. She forgot to clap her hands, so some students jumped out of their seats, but not everyone. I was the last to get to my feet. A few straggling voices called out, “Good morning, Inspector Sutton.”
The inspector put her satchel on the floor and her hands on her hips. “Is that the best you can do?”
“GOOD MORNING, INSPECTOR SUTTON!” we shouted out in unison.
“Good morning class,” she said. Then, using her hands like the conductor of an orchestra, she motioned for us to sit down.
“Now, Miss Ferris.” The inspector turned away from us and gazed upon our teacher. “What poem can your students recite for me?”
“Um … Miss … Inspector Sutton … we haven’t practised recitations recently.” Miss Ferris clutched her ruler as if it were a lifeline.
“Can they sing a song for me?”
Miss Ferris brightened. “They can sing ‘The Maple Leaf Forever.’”
“Very good,” said Inspector Sutton. “Let’s hear it.”
Miss Ferris got us all to stand up again and we sang the song. Most of us seemed to be on key and we kept fairly good time with each other, I thought. Miss Ferris looked expectantly at Miss Sutton.
“Good,” said the inspector.
She walked behind Miss Ferris’s desk and grabbed the back of her chair, dragged it across the floor and positioned it to face us, then she sat down. “That’s better,” she said. She drew a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles out of her suit pocket and perched them on the end of her nose. She took a black notebook out of her satchel, then pointed to one student at a time. Each was made to stand and answer a single question and then sit down. She jotted down notes about each of us. They weren’t difficult questions, but it was terrifying nonetheless. My question was, “What is your favourite colour?” When I told her it was lilac, she smiled and said that my English was good for a newcomer.
After she was finished, Inspector Sutton put Miss Ferris’s chair back behind the desk and walked to the door. I was so relieved that she was leaving. She hadn’t said anything about me running away from school on that first day. Linda had been right.
I was almost starting to breathe again when the inspector paused. It was like she had just remembered something. She opened her satchel and took out the black notebook, flipping through the pages with a frown on her face. “The new girl … Nadia?” She looked over her spectacles and surveyed the class yet again.
I stood up.
“Come here,” she said with a smile. “You can carry my bag.”
The thought of going near that woman made me feel like I was going to be sick to my stomach. I took one deep calming breath and began to walk over to her. She smelled like mothballs.
Her bag was surprisingly heavy and I needed both hands to carry it. She walked out of the room and I stumbled after her. She was waiting at the door to the grade one class when I caught up with her.
“Thank you,” she said. “That bag gets so heavy to carry around all day. Here’s a little something for your trouble.”
She pulled a cello-wrapped hard candy from her pocket and held it out to me.
I stared at that candy on her outstretched palm. Without knowing why I was doing it or where I was going, I bolted down the hallway. All I knew was that I had to get away. I pushed open the outside door and kept on running. It was cold and I was without my winter coat and boots but that didn’t stop me. The chill against my face felt like freedom.
“Nadia, come back!” Inspector Sutton called.
I didn’t stop running, but turned to look. She was standing in the entranceway with a look of shock on her face. I was grateful that she wasn’t following me. When I turned a moment later, to check, she was gone.
I didn’t know where I was going, but a feeling deep inside me told me that my life depended on getting away from that brown-suited woman. I didn’t want to go home. Wouldn’t that be the first place she would look for me?
My legs took me on my usual route to the library. I hid behind a snowbank when I heard a car. I could see the children’s entrance, but there was a group of mothers with little children in strollers chatting in front of it. I ran up the steps to the main doors, painfully aware that I was in full view of anyone passing by. Luckily, none of the chatting mothers noticed me. When I got to the top, I opened the door just a crack. My face was blasted with warm air as I peered in. No one was there, so I stepped inside. I didn’t realize how chilled to the bone I was until the warmth of the inside air wrapped around me. I could hear voices coming out of the main library room, so I slipped down the steps to the children’s department.
It was story time in the picture-book room, but the novel room looked empty. I sat on the floor in the corner farthest from the door and wrapped my arms around my legs and rocked my body back and forth, chanting the kolysanka. My whole body trembled — not just from being out in the cold, but from my memories. Images of a brown-suited woman invaded my mind. I tried to think of other things but it was no use. I was frightened beyond words.