KENDRA AND LANCE WALKED INTO THE MAIN OFFICE OF THE local elementary school, looking like harried parents.
The front desk secretary acknowledged them. “May I help you?”
“We’re here to pick up Brooklyn Patterson,” Kendra said. “Her mom said to come here.”
“Yes, Ms. Patterson did call to let us know you were coming.” The secretary pulled out a piece of paper. “May I see a form of ID, please?”
They dug out their driver’s licenses and showed them.
“Very good,” the woman said. “Please have a seat. Brooklyn is still in with the principal.”
Kendra looked at Lance as they nestled into the hard plastic chairs. “I still can’t believe Brookie got in a fight.”
“The report was that she started it,” Lance said. “That’s why she’s suspended.”
“Give me a break. Why would they suspend third graders anyway?”
Lance gave her a look. “So they don’t grow up to be fighting in high school.”
The principal’s door opened and Brooklyn trudged out, peeping up at them and then dropping her head back down. Her thick curls were in a loose ponytail with lots of flyaway hairs, and her cute shorts had streaks of dirt on them.
Behind her, the principal extended her hand. “I’m Mrs. Downes,” she said.
“I remember you.” Kendra smiled, shaking her hand. “You taught second grade when I was here.”
“Tell me your name,” Mrs. Downes said.
“Kendra Woods.”
“Why, yes,” the principal said, smiling as well. “I remember you and, later, your brother.” It seemed to register. “And I understand your connection to Brooklyn as well.”
Kendra nodded. “She’s my sister. Her mother asked if we could come get her, since she’s at a conference in Illinois today.”
“I’ve already discussed Brooklyn’s behavior with her mom.” Mrs. Downes gave the little girl a pointed glance. “So I’ll leave it to her to tell you two about it if she wants.” She looked at Brooklyn again. “I’ll see you on Friday, Brooklyn. Think about what we discussed.”
Brooklyn stared at her sneakers. “Yes, ma’am.”
Kendra signed her out on a clipboard, and they left the building for the five-minute walk to the Woodses’ home.
Brooklyn got a little skip in her step. “What’re you doing walking up here, Kendra?”
Kendra tweaked Brooklyn’s nose. “Coming to get you. I couldn’t believe you were fighting, so I had to come see for myself.”
Brooklyn kept walking.
“Well?” Kendra said.
“Well, what?”
“Are you gonna tell us what happened?” Kendra asked.
“I’d certainly like you to,” Kendra said. “I told Lance I don’t care what they said. You couldn’t have started it.”
Brooklyn turned, eyes narrowed. “I kicked that Sarah Bowman in the leg, and I’d do it again.”
“Brooklyn! What did she do?”
“She said my mom is a whore and I’m a bastard.”
Kendra gasped, turning to Lance. “And they suspended Brookie?” she whispered.
“Probably zero tolerance for physical assault,” Lance said.
“What’s a whore, anyway?” Brooklyn asked.
“Um . . .” Kendra looked at Lance again. “Sweetie, it’s a bad word that kids shouldn’t use.”
“I already knew what a bastard was.”
“What do you think it means, Brooklyn?”
“It means your daddy doesn’t love you. That’s what Sarah said.”
“That’s not what it means,” Kendra said, “and there’s no way Sarah would know that anyway, is there?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “Brooklyn, kids just say mean things sometimes, and sadly, they usually get it from their parents. As hard as it is, you have to learn to ignore them.”
Brooklyn turned up their street. “All I know is, if she says it again, I’m kicking her again.”
Kendra gave Lance a look. She couldn’t half blame her.
Brooklyn turned up the walkway. “When does my mom get back?”
“Later this evening,” Kendra said.
“During Bible study?”
Kendra shrugged. “I don’t know. Why?”
“I’ll ask everybody to pray I don’t get in trouble.”
Brooklyn wasn’t kidding. After the meal, when everyone had gathered in the living room, she took to the floor with Lance’s permission.
“Could everyone please pray I don’t get on punishment—”
“Brooklyn,” Lance said, “you have to take your finger out of your mouth and speak up if you want people to hear you.”
Brooklyn put her arm down and looked around at the faces. There were fourteen people in the room.
“Okay.” She shook out her hands and took a breath. And cleared her throat. “Could you please pray I don’t get on punishment . . . for fighting at school . . .” She took another breath. “Because Sarah Bowman called my mom a whore and me a bastard and I kicked her and then she kicked me and we were rolling on the ground and I got suspended.”
Kendra’s eyes widened along with Lance’s. Those little details had been omitted earlier. The others in the room had wide eyes at the name-calling.
Brooklyn looked at Lance. “And that’s it . . . I think.”
Lance glanced around the room. “Would you all mind if we prayed for Brooklyn before we start the study?”
The adults quickly affirmed his suggestion, and they circled up and joined hands.
“Lord, we pray Ellen has mercy on Brooklyn,” Trey said, “taking into account the words that started it, words that hurt Brooklyn’s feelings. I pray You would shield Ellen and Brooklyn from words like that. And I pray You would be their peace and their joy.”
“Lord, we lift up Ellen to You,” Cyd said, “praying You give her wisdom as to how to respond to her daughter in this situation, and how to respond to those who treat them in hurtful ways. I pray, Lord”—she took her time—“that You would use trying situations like this to draw Ellen and Brooklyn to Yourself. May they know how strong Your love is for them.”
“I don’t usually pray out loud, but . . .” Molly was standing next to Kendra. “Jesus, the name that girl called Ellen probably fit me more, but You saved me anyway. Can You save Ellen too? Oh, and praying no punishment for Brookie.”
Brooklyn grinned.
When they were done, Brooklyn sat on the sofa with Kendra for the lesson and fell asleep partway through. She was still curled up there when Ellen arrived, passing others in the entryway as they departed. Ellen looked slightly confused by the hugs she got from a couple of them.
“Thank you for picking Brooklyn up and taking care of her.” Ellen looked worn, her eyes drained. “I didn’t know I’d be getting back this late.”
“It was no problem at all,” Kendra said. “As you can see, she’s tuckered out.”
“I still can’t believe she got suspended for fighting.”
“Well, you know what instigated it, right?”
“Mrs. Downes said the girl was name-calling, and Brooklyn hauled off and kicked her.” Ellen ran her hands through her hair. “I’ve told Brooklyn a thousand times, names can’t hurt you . . . just let it roll off.”
“To be honest, Ellen,” Kendra said, “it would be hard for me to let it roll off if someone called my mom a whore and me a bastard.”
“That’s . . . that’s what the girl said to Brooklyn?”
Kendra nodded.
“Did she mention the girl’s name?”
“Sarah something.”
“That’s it.” Kendra said, “You know her?”
“Her mother works at the university.” Ellen stared vaguely. “So now . . . now this crap is filtering down to the elementary school? Now my daughter has to fight on the playground to defend her mother?”
Kendra didn’t know what to say.
Brooklyn stirred and, when she glimpsed her mother, sat up, rubbing her eyes.
Ellen pulled her to a hug. “Honey, let’s get ready to go.”
“Mom . . .” Brooklyn looked up at her. “Sorry I got suspended.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, after you get some rest,” Ellen said. “And we’re especially going to talk about how to handle people in a proper way when they say rude things.”
“Okay . . . but am I on punishment? Like, will you tell me I can’t come play over here?”
Kendra’s heart melted. Was that the punishment Brooklyn most feared?
Ellen rubbed her back. “I would never put you on that kind of punishment, Brooklyn.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Brooklyn said. “And, Mom?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I hate being a bastard. And I hate my daddy.”