The cup lay on the floor in two pieces. The handle had broken off. A puddle spread out around the cup as though it were bleeding water. Pole and Anna and all the nearby students eyed Kallie solemnly.
“Why did you do that?” said Anna quietly. It was not an accusation, but a simple question.
Kallie’s cheeks blazed. Her gaze volleyed from one pair of eyes to another. “I-I didn’t,” she stammered. She shuffled off the bench and stooped to pick up the pieces. “I don’t know what happened. But I didn’t touch your cup…”
Her voice trailed off as she looked toward Pole for reassurance, but he merely winced and then nodded as if to confirm Anna’s accusation.
Kallie couldn’t understand it. She hadn’t laid a finger on the cup. She was sure of it … absolutely certain of it … wasn’t she? Had she knocked it down accidentally without realizing? Or had her limbs somehow reacted independently of her thoughts? The automatic brain? Again she looked toward Pole, but his expression was draped in worry.
Something was happening. Something Kallie couldn’t explain. Not even to herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, lifting the pieces, still unconvinced of her guilt.
Anna smiled. “Don’t worry.” She took the cup from Kallie, cradling the two pieces gently. “Objects, unlike people, can be easily repaired.” Her eyes remained as bright as beacons, though her lower lip quivered slightly.
Kallie swallowed a large lump growing in her throat. “Is there anything I can do?”
Anna placed the shards on the table, reached for her worn purple backpack, and located a small bottle of glue. “Well,” she said, cheerfulness flooding steadily back into her voice. “If you’re not going to eat the other half of that sandwich…”
“But…” said Kallie, “I thought you said you were too stuffed to eat?”
“I am. Really.” Anna placed small dabs of glue on the cup where the handle belonged. “But … well, I’d hate to see good food go to waste.” She smiled.
Kallie glanced at Pole, who shrugged, finishing the last of his mush.
She unzipped her lunch bag and retrieved the half sandwich from the untouched tupperware. One side was squished, and a slice of cucumber had slipped out and lay at the bottom of the container. She handed it to Anna, who accepted it graciously.
Pole gathered his belongings and stood. “We have math next. I don’t want to be late. I hear Mr. Bent bought new protractors.”
Kallie took a deep breath. Math class. With shiny new protractors. The day was not completely lost.
During math, Mr. Bent instructed the class in calculating the area of obtuse triangles. Kallie completed her task well ahead of everyone—including Pole.
As she sat waiting, she thought about the cup, and something niggled inside her. Like a blurry face on the other side of damp, foggy glass. Unclear. Distorted. She couldn’t quite see it. Not yet. But she could feel it there, waiting for her.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kallie noticed Anna struggling. Kallie reached over and sketched a dotted line, creating the angle necessary for Anna to solve the equation.
“Thanks,” whispered Anna, but Kallie quickly looked away, pretending she hadn’t heard.
When Kallie had picked up Anna’s cup, she’d seen a word on the bottom—painted with jagged and uneven strokes: Mom. Had the cup been a gift from Anna to her mother? Perhaps a birthday or Mother’s Day present?
Kallie had once made her father a set of coasters from old, mismatched tiles her teacher must have gotten from a thrift store. The children had each painted them and wrapped them in tissue paper for Father’s Day.
Kallie took her gift home and waited excitedly as her father unpacked it. He smiled and said thank you, but he worried the tiles would scratch the table. A week later she found them in the garbage.
Would She have done the same? Kallie wondered. Would She have kept Kallie’s gift? Perhaps Anna’s mother was like Kallie’s father. Maybe she saw no use for such an unattractive cup.
A cup. A broken cup …
Something continued to trouble Kallie’s mind. Like fragments and shards of an image smashed and scattered about the floor of her brain. She would only piece them together the following day in music class.