Cath Murphy (teacher, Grade 2B) stood on the second grade balcony, blinking and smiling in the morning sun, her hands in the pockets of her new baggy trousers, her neck feeling warm beneath her short blond hair.
It was the first day of term, and the children were gathering downstairs.
The new guy, Warren Woodford, was at the other end of the balcony, outside the 2A classroom. He leaned his chin toward the railing and gave Cath a firm little nod: Yes, there they are, gathering.
She responded with her own solemn nod.
The new guy was sure to be a hit with the kids. He was very tall, so he would be able to reach up to touch the ceiling, or to tack paintings high on the wall. Also, he could pull down one side of his mouth while raising the opposite eyebrow. Kids think that kind of face, especially when done to tease them, is the essence of grown-up humor.
Cath looked back at Warren, and he was making that exact face at her.
It was actually funny, and she surprised herself by imitating him. He smiled softly, looked away, and then called something that sounded like “From the highlands.”
“Pardon?”
“Aren’t the highlands!”
“Yes,” she agreed tentatively. Then she really wanted to know, so she ran a few steps along the balcony toward him. “I’m sorry?”
He waved her back. “I only asked if you were frightened! Are you scared?”
“Of course I am! Aren’t you?”
Then she ran back to her spot to wait again, and felt awkward and foolish, but also she felt this: quirky, cocky, small, funny, wicked, and extremely blond.
In fact, she was not really frightened, more excited. But, as her mother liked to say, all meetings with new people, even locksmiths or seven-year-olds, can make you a little afraid.
Cath had been teaching for three years now, and had a reputation among the children as very nice and pretty, can be strict sometimes, but mostly nice.
She was known to be generous with gold stars and SUPER WORK! stamps.
Among teachers, she had a reputation as serene and conscientious, perhaps a little shy, but prone to fits of giggling.
She ate a Granny Smith apple at lunchtime each day, and believed in smiles that continued for 5-4-3-2-clear! after corridor nods. She had a Mary Poppins glint in her eye, but not the Mary Poppins spots on the cheeks, or the carpetbag.
Now, as the children filed up the stairs, jostled and excited, chatting with each other and at her, she herself chatted back: “Good morning!” and “There you go!” and “Just leave your bag on the rack, that’s a good girl!” and “Oops! It’s a bit early in the day to be tripping on your shoelace, isn’t it; okay there?”
But she noticed, as she chatted, that the new guy, Warren, was welcoming his class in silence. He was holding one arm high in the air and using the other to wave them into his classroom. He was like a stately policeman. The children, she noticed, were obeying him in wide-eyed wonder.
Later, as she spent the morning playing educational welcoming games (“Luke’s name begins with the same letter as Lion! Scary!”), Cath was conscious of long periods of silence in the classroom next door. The silence was interrupted now and then by storms of laughter.