Deep in the satchel, my hand crumbled the dry round into several pieces as I walked back to the school. Erica sat on the doorstep nibbling a fir frond. I knelt beside her and pressed a piece of nut loaf into her palm. “Don’t let anyone see you eat this.” Her fingers wrapped around the morsel and she nodded her head, eyes serious, before taking a bite.
“Why are you out here? Was Zelkova picking on you again?”
She chewed her bite and swallowed before answering. “No. It smells bad in there.”
I stepped in the doorway and the fecund stench of poo slammed me in the face. I gagged. “Did someone poo their pants?” That was probably not the way a teacher addressed a class, but I wasn’t a teacher and—yikes! The rankness was toxic.
Though it was well past time for class to begin, only three children sat in the classroom. With Erica outside, a total of four kids had come to school. Out of the ten Cassia normally taught, not including poor Yucca, six were missing. Zelkova and a brown skinned boy whose name I couldn’t remember pointed to Tung, thin, bowed, and slumped in a corner. A brown sludge ran down his leg. He didn’t seem to notice.
I hadn’t signed up for poo patrol; well, I hadn’t signed up to sub this morning either, but you got what you got. “Tung! Go to the toilet box. I’ll be there in a minute.”
He moved slowly, dragging himself up from against the wall. “I’m dizzy.” He wobbled across the room toward Erica on the doorsill, and then sat down abruptly.
“Okay. Rest there a minute. I’ll help you.” I reached into my satchel and pulled out two large hunks of nut loaf. Zelkova’s eyes grew even bigger and she reached out her hand. “Eat this in here where no one can see. Then go sit outside with Erica and wait for me. Don’t tease her!” I handed a piece to the other child before leaving the reeking school.
At the toilet box, I removed Tung’s shorts. Luckily, they were cedar weave, which meant they were easier to clean. I wiped his bottom with the broadleaf maple leaves stacked next to the toilet for that purpose. In mid-wipe he groaned and bent double. I lifted him by the armpits. Startling how light his limp frame was. I centered his bony behind over the hole. The kid was sweaty and pale, his too-large head wobbly on his skinny neck. His skin felt clammy and hot, not warm like a healthily perspiring person. He was sick, really sick, and I hoped against hope that he hadn’t infected Erica, Zelkova, and whoever that other kid was. The squirting noises stopped, and Tung collapsed his head into his two small hands.
“How do you feel?” I wiped the sweat from his brow with the side of my hand.
“Bad. Real bad.” His shoulders began shaking. “Only babies cry. I’m no baby.”
“It’s okay, Tung. Adults cry, too. Especially when they feel bad.” I stroked his head, all tight curls and tree sap and sweat. “Can you stay here? Don’t move? I need to find Cassia. Then you and me, we’re going to the clinic. Okay?”
I met Cassia on the path. She lumbered along, hand supporting her heavy belly. She was surprised to see me. “Why aren’t you at the school? Is Toona there already?”
“No. One of the kids is sick.”
“Who?” She grabbed my arm. “Is it Erica? She’s so fragile, so delicate.”
Cassia was always so concerned about Erica’s well-being. It seemed to me that Erica was the last child in the canopy we needed to worry about. Her mother obviously doted on the girl; she was always clean, well-groomed, and despite the famine, she seemed well-fed. Clearly her parents were giving her every last morsel of their rations. Why would Cassia fret so about Erica?
And then I knew why Cassia cared so much for the girl. Why she scolded Tung for teasing her, even more than she scolded Zelkova. Suddenly, it was clear why Cassia took time to compliment the child’s mother on Erica’s clothing, and braids, and grooming, why she smiled so large when the girl greeted her in the morning and said goodbye in the afternoon. I saw it now, and the truth seemed so obvious. That was Cassia’s secret. Erica was hers.
Almost as though she realized that I’d figured it out, that she needed to disguise her interest in Erica in case I wasn’t as smart as I was, she said, “And Zelkova? Is she okay? What about Corylus?”
“That’s his name! Corylus.”
“What? He’s sick?”
“No, no. I couldn’t remember his name. Always escapes me. You only have four students today, you know.”
“Well, I only had three yesterday, so that’s an improvement. Who’s sick?”
“Tung. He’s got diarrhea. I’ll take him to the clinic. Try to get some liquids into him. I needed to isolate him from the others in case he’s contagious.”
“Tung?” She blinked at me stupidly as though confused. “But he’s never sick.”
“He’s a tough kid, all right. You’re going to the school now?” I moved closer to her and tipped open my satchel so she could see the remains of the nut loaf. “For the kids.”
“Where’d you get—”
“Shhh! Take it. Careful, so no one sees.”
She looked around, but the few passersby paid no attention to us, two sisters exchanging greetings on the pathway. She snatched the remaining nut loaf from my bag and tucked it inside her bosom, one more bump on her body. “Thanks. But where?”
“Don’t ask.” I knew her secret, but I was keeping my own.