A new grade 2 student, Corey, arrived at school. There’d been a problem at his birth, depriving his brain of oxygen. It had left him with limited intelligence, along with digestion and breathing problems. He dragged an oxygen tank behind him.
Corey’s aide phoned in sick. He had to get to music class, which was on the second floor. I did a thorough scan of Buttons to make sure everything was okay, and helped Corey, his wheelchair, his tubes and oxygen tank onto the elevator. Because it was so small, it was tricky getting everything onboard. As I was loading, I banged the oxygen tank. In my haste, I didn’t notice the gas escaping, even though it made a noise, a kind of squeaking sound. We finally got everything loaded, but I couldn’t see because the elevator light was burned out. Without the light, Corey was afraid and began to whimper. Fortunately, I still had the confiscated lighter in my pocket.
“Can you hear that noise, Corey?”
“Chirp, chirp, chirp, ” he replied.
In order to be able to see the buttons properly, I flicked the switch on the lighter. At the flash I screamed, “Hey, Corey, have you been bap…?”
Oh, crap.