Never Promise

Clint would be back. They always come back. She pictured her scalding anger puncturing him with her words. The rage she felt was self-induced and she knew it. Clint had never made any promises. He had tried to maintain a safe distance between them. All along he had been preparing her for this dismissal. She really couldn’t blame him at all. Her anger was instead directed at Venus, at whatever mysterious hold she had on his heart. The crackling sound of the postwar intercom put a pause on her thoughts.

“Ms. Treboe, we have a delivery here for you.”

Kandi put her pen inside the notepad and closed it.

“What is it, Marcy?” By using first names, she was signaling that the little people were out of the classroom and they could speak freely.

“Kandi, you gotta come see this. Two dozen long-stemmed roses,” Marcy’s voice belted out.

“I’ll be right there.” Kandi locked her room and walked quickly to the front office. The plaque engraved on the outside of the office door always made her question why she hadn’t tried to get a new teaching job. Lillian Dearborn Primary founded 1896, with no upgrades, but built to last. She thought about the new schools that were being built fast as lightning over in the suburban areas. Nice central air conditioning, floors with vinyl, large windows to see the flowers in the spring or snow, in today’s case. Yet she was still drawn to this little brick school with the hardwood floors. She walked past the chatting teachers who used their break time as a soap opera digest update. They sat huddled together in their large down jackets and corny snow boots. They mostly talked about the children, who had no manners, or needed to be in a mental institution instead of their classrooms. The conversation would then turn to the status of the parents, divorced, single, or married, and what made the children so screwed up in the first place. Kandi found the conversations cruel and didn’t participate in them. She thought it was a shame, the way some of the teachers talked about the kids behind their backs. The same children who trusted them with their secrets and fears were most likely the topics of discussion.

Marcy and Lynn were standing around the larger than life assortment of red and pink roses inside a beautiful crystal vase when she entered the office. Most of the other staff went outside to catch some of the fleeting sunshine, watching the children build snowmen during their recess breaks. Marcy and Lynn were the only ones in the hallowed brick building. It echoed from its emptiness.

“Open the card, we want to know who these came from.” Marcy was bouncing around like a teenager. Not surprising, since she was only one year past legal age.

“Now, now, ladies. I can’t share that kind of information with you. Next thing you know, he’ll get stolen from me by one of you young beauties.” Marcy blushed with her wild wavy hair falling in every direction. Her reddish brown skin glowed from youth, and nothing more.

“Kandi, just read the card, you don’t have to tell us who it’s from.” Lynn, the other intern, spoke with her thick tongue, swollen from a piercing gone bad. Since the Spice Girl invasion, her wild erotic look had become typical. Kandi gave Lynn compliments on her smile and eyes hoping she’d feel good about her natural attributes and shed some of the dramatic accessories. What she really wanted to tell her was to go catch a sale at Sears. But all those changes would come in due time. Lynn really would have no choice in the matter; fitting in, becoming ordinary, happened naturally, like day turning into night.

Kandi picked up the vase and started toward the door. “Sorry, no can do.” She could hear Lynn speaking like there was too much spit in her mouth as she started walking away.

“See, I told you we should’ve peeked.”

For a brief moment, Kandi anticipated the note card to be signed by Clint with an apology. That was until she saw Tyson’s handwriting on the bottom. It simply read in time; that was his reminder to keep waiting. In time, they would be a real couple, not one hiding with stolen days and nights. In time, she would be Mrs. Tyson Edwards, if she were patient.

She tore the card into tiny little pieces and set the flowers on her desk. She grabbed her pen and notebook and headed outside to watch over her class during recess. Her thoughts couldn’t help racing back to Clint. She’d let him off the hook for a week at the most. She didn’t want to seem too pushy or needy. After a satisfactory waiting period, she’d call. Whatever problems he and Venus were going through that sent him her way in the first place would rear their ugly head again. Right now she’d finish her list of stipulations for taking him back. She noted each one with precision. Number one, they would have to spend at least three nights per week together. Two, all communication with Venus must end. Number three, Clint must tell Venus directly that he has found someone new and to back off. Number four—

“Ms. Treboe, Christopher Lee fell off the monkey bars and now he’s holding his arm and rolling around on the ground.”

Kandi stuck her pen into the notepad, irritated at the interruption. Christopher Lee’s mother had brought in cupcakes and syrupy punch for his birthday earlier and then left Kandi to fend for herself after the sugar high took effect. Kandi wouldn’t be surprised if Christopher thought he was superboy for a day and tried to skip handlebars instead of taking them one at a time.

The other children were standing around him, some giggling, and some silent and in shock from the eerie moaning noises that were coming out of him. Kandi gently pushed her way through.

“Christopher, where does it hurt? Do you think it’s broken?”

“I don’t know. It hurts.” He let out more sobs.

“Well, try to stand up, Christopher. Can you stand up?”

“It hurts.”

“Okay, sweetie. Just calm down.” Kandi looked around to see who would be most diligent. “Missy, run to the office and tell Principal Erin that Christopher Lee may have broken his arm. Don’t waste time talking to anyone else. Find Principal Erin.”

Missy took her orders seriously and ran off in the direction of the office.

“Can I go with her? Can I?” Kelly wanted in on the limelight.

“Run, go ahead.” Kandi turned her attention back to Christopher. She felt guilty for being annoyed at the interruption. But she had been right in the middle of some very important thoughts before this accident happened.

Principal Erin made his way through the small mob of children.

“Looks broken, and I didn’t want to move him,” Kandi whispered in his ear.

Joseph Erin was a large man with hands to match. He lifted Christopher up with the ease of carrying a newborn infant. He carried him to the office while the children followed like a swarm of bees. Kandi hurried in front to pull open the heavy oak door to let them pass. Principal Erin dispatched orders to call Christopher Lee’s parents first and if they weren’t home, to gather the medical information off the emergency card and call his doctor. Principal Erin laid the small boy out on the wire-framed cot.

Marcy had the file in hand before a few seconds went by. “No one’s home,” she waved the card in the air. “I’m calling the doctor.”

Kandi sent the other children back to the classroom with Lynn. She took a seat on the edge of the cot and watched the boy continue to squirm. She touched his head and pulled her hand back quickly. The heat from his forehead stung her hand.

“Oh my God.” She scooped Christopher Lee up, cradling him in her arms, not knowing where her strength came from and called out, “He’s got a temperature.”

The office was now an empty hollow box. She looked through the glass partition for Principal Erin. Marcy wasn’t sitting at her desk. In that instant, she was all alone holding what felt like a hot steaming rag.

Kandi picked up the flannel blanket at the end of the cot and wrapped him slightly to stop his shaking and clattering teeth.

“What’s going on?” Marcy walked back in the office.

“He’s burning up. We need to call an ambulance.”

“Mr. Erin told me to just leave a message with his doctor because his mother wasn’t home.”

“I know Marcy, but he has a fever. Call an ambulance.”

“Kandi, I can’t. The last time I called an ambulance it was for that Spencer boy. I got in trouble, because it wasn’t a real emergency, and Mr. Erin was all over me for the cost. The parents didn’t want to pay for it.”

“What’s the problem?” Principal Erin walked in, blocking the doorway with his frame.

Kandi was relieved. “He’s got a fever out of this world. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but it feels like convulsions or something. He’s shaking like he’s freezing, but his skin is on fire. We need to call an ambulance. This doesn’t make sense if it’s just his arm.”

He walked over to Kandi and felt the boy’s head. “Yeah, he’s hot all right, but I don’t think an ambulance is warranted. Marcy, call his parents one more time. See if they can be reached.”

“Wait a minute. We can call the parents after we call the ambulance. This boy is burning up.” The heat from Christopher Lee was spreading into Kandi’s body.

Principal Erin turned toward Marcy. “Call his parents.” Marcy knew who held rank.

Kandi stormed past him and started walking with the boy to her classroom. “I’ll take him to the hospital myself.”

“Ms. Treboe, you bring him back in here right now!”

Kandi was already rounding the corner of her classroom. The other children stopped in the midst of their loudness and watched Kandi carrying the sack of weight on her shoulder while searching her desk drawer for her car keys. Lynn rushed to her side.

“Grab my keys, Lynn. Hand them to me.”

Lynn picked up the silver elephant with a harness of keys and shoved them into Kandi’s hand so as not to miss her target. She didn’t question her goal; she could see the determination in Kandi’s usually pleasant face.

Kandi pulled into the emergency hospital entrance and ran to the passenger side of her car. The strength she started out with in abundance was now spent. After struggling unsuccessfully to gather up Christopher’s slack body, she ran inside to find someone to help. The first person she ran into was a janitor with the name “Sam” sewn on his shirt. She led him out to the car without a word. He picked up the deathly pale, sleeping boy and carried him inside.

“This little boy is having some kind of seizure,” Kandi told the receptionist through the glass structure. The lump of fear in the back of Kandi’s throat prevented her from speaking any louder. She wanted this to be over, but it was like running down a long endless hallway.

“Bring him around.” The receptionist instructed with her brown hand, waving them through the double doors. Kandi followed the janitor who carried Christopher Lee in his arms. They walked to the back where waiting beds were open for more unfortunate incidents.

“Is he diabetic, or have any existing condition?” The chocolate woman was writing on a clipboard.

Kandi shook her head no and answered, “I don’t know” when appropriate. “I’m his teacher. This wasn’t supposed to happen, we thought he just had a sprained arm, broken or something. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” The tears Kandi had kept in the tight neat ball finally broke through. All Kandi saw was the rush of white coats and pastel uniforms file past her. Another brushed past her, almost knocking her over. She lifted her eyes out of the confusion to focus and see Clint standing over Christopher Lee, touching him with his stethoscope.

She whispered his name, then backed out of the room, unable to share the same space as Clint. Standing before her, he was Dr. Fairchild, an angel of greatness, someone capable of saving life, giving calm.

The chocolate woman caught her by the arm.

“We need more information from you, ma’am. You want to have a seat?”

Kandi felt her way into the chair and gave as much information as she could to the best of her ability, name, age, what he’d eaten in the last hour. They’d have to call the school for his pertinent data, they kept that type of information there, insurance, who to bill. She laid her face in her hands. Who to bill? This little show was going to cost a fortune, she thought briefly before Clint came out. He walked directly to her as if he’d seen her all along. He kneeled down in front of her for eye contact.

“Hey,” he touched her knee. “He’s going to be fine. How’d you know?”

“How’d I know what?”

“That he was having an allergic reaction. I think you missed your calling.”

“I didn’t know. The only thing I was sure of was you don’t have a fever with a broken arm.”

“He was holding on to his arm because of the wasp sting. Wasp or bee, we couldn’t tell which for sure, but it was definitely an allergic reaction.”

“Wasp? In this weather?” Kandi let her head fall back.

“I know, but as long as there’s a heat source, they’ll live and thrive. You may want to mention to whoever keeps up maintenance around there to check out the basement or furnace area for nests.”

“I’m just glad it’s over. I’m probably going to be fired for insubordination. I wasn’t supposed to bring him here. I just couldn’t believe that the principal was so afraid of spending an extra dollar that he would let that boy suffer while he tracked down his parents.”

“You did the right thing,” he assured her. “You want to get something to drink downstairs?” Clint was already standing up, appearing larger than life. He extended his smooth dark hand. The hand that saved lives.

“Sure.” Kandi straightened her skirt that had edged its way around with the zipper showing near the front. She wiped away most of the smeared black eyeliner. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous as ever.” Clint gave her a reassuring pat on her shoulder as they started to walk. Kandi felt a breeze of hope when he touched her. The tenseness that had built up with the day’s events evaporated.

Kandi felt proud to be in Clint’s company. He put his arm around her shoulder to gently guide her. A few of the female staff did double takes as they walked through the corridor. Another one taken off the market, they were probably thinking, by the typical light-skinned, long-hair type. The usual pick of the too-dark brother who’d finally made something of his self. But they were wrong. She wished it were the case, that Clint was hers and she, his. He would be with her if he could. It wasn’t his fault, she found herself thinking. If Venus would just let him go.

She slid her arm tighter around his waist and slowed her steps. She wanted to feel the strength of his arm wrapped around her for as long as possible. If only momentarily, she wanted to feel like she was the chosen one.