It was a nice, warm, spring afternoon, and Justin Zerich cursed the day he signed up as a Playground Assistant for Eagle Creek Elementary. He didn't get paid, he didn't even get lunch, and fourteen afternoons a month were shot all to heck. Not so bad for the grannies and stay-at-home moms, but Justin was neither of those. He was nineteen, a sophomore in college, and he had Places to Be, Things to Do, People to See.
It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't so boring, Justin reflected. I mean, how much trouble can little kids get into? The older kids might be interesting, but they have their own recess. The oldest kids that I ever see are third graders.
Then came the screams. "JUS-tinnnnn!" a little girl wailed. "Miguel got HURRRRR-ted!"
Oh, crap, Justin thought. Miguel was a big-for-his-age third grader... one of the oldest and biggest kids in this recess... Justin started running for that edge of the playground, wondering what could possibly have happened for Miguel to get 'hurted'.
Justin got there in time to see Miguel just sitting up on the ground and a small pair of feet vanishing up the trunk of a tree. Miguel looked okay, no more than bruised, but Justin asked anyway, "Are you okay, Miguel?"
The boy nodded, slowly. Then Justin asked, "What happened?"
Miguel groaned. "Cheyan hit me in the stomach and kicked me and I fell over because I hurt so bad."
"Cheyan-?" Justin asked, not remembering any third graders by that name. Then it dawned on him and he asked, incredulously, "That little Cheyan girl did this to you?"
Miguel nodded again, standing up slowly and rubbing his stomach. Justin fought an urge to roll his eyes and said, "Come on, Miguel, she's not even six years old!"
The little girl who'd screamed for Justin spoke up again. "But she did, Justin! She hit him right in his middle and kicked him right in his ankle and he fell and got hurted bad!
Justin blinked. "Calli, you can't be serious."
"I AM, Justin! She's mean like that!"
Finally Justin sighed. "Everyone, go on, get out of here, except Miguel. Get!"
Reluctantly, the crowd dispersed. When all but Miguel had gone, Justin looked up into the tree. "Cheyan, you need to come down."
Silence.
"Cheyan, recess will be over soon."
Silence.
"Cheyan, we're going to call your parents."
Silence.
"Cheyan, if you don't come down, I'll have to take Miguel's word for what happened."
After a pause, soft sounds were heard as somebody scrambled down the tree. Justin hid a self-satisfied smile as the little girl finally landed on the ground and looked up at him, defiantly. "He deserved it," she said, softly.
Miguel started to protest, but Justin raised a hand, warningly, and said, "Go on, Cheyan."
"We were playing buggers and astronauts, and Jacob and Danny and I were the buggers 'cause we were the astronauts this morning. And then Miguel asked if he could be an astronaut too and we said yes 'cause he was bigger than us and he said so."
Justin turned to Miguel, asking, "This true so far?" Miguel nodded, reluctantly.
"Go on, Cheyan," Justin encouraged.
"So then we were playing and I came out from behind the tree and said I shot Miguel and he said I didn't because the buggers never win. And I said that, no, they never win, but the astronauts weren't that good, they kept getting chewed up, so he had to die and let the rest of the astronauts finish me off, 'cause I was the only bugger left. And Matt said, "That's right, Miguel, she got you good." And Miguel pushed Matt and I said "Don't shove him!" Cheyan paused, for breath, and to glare at Miguel, venomously. Then she continued, "And then Miguel shoved me and I almost fell but I pushed him back harder, and he stumbled 'cause I hit him right in the stomach, so I kicked him in the ankle and he fell. And then Calli screamed and I climbed the tree."
Justin stared. This little first grader, who looked four but whose parents swore she was five, this little girl had done that? Finally, he got control of himself. "Miguel, Cheyan, come with me. We're going to see the principal."
He took Cheyan's hand, and then Miguel's, and led them both back into the building. The bell was just ringing as he opened the door to Mrs. Aniyas' office.
Justin sat outside the office, not caring that his shift at the school was long over. Miguel had been sent back to class with a warning and a (probably not literal) slap on the wrist, but Cheyan was still in the office.
The weird thing was that he'd never met Cheyan before today. Sure, he'd heard about her, and, sure, he'd seen her, and it was only his third day, but most of the littlest kids had already come to talk to him. Then again, most kids didn't have monitors. Especially not past five.
In fact, only three other children at Eagle Creek had monitors - and all were younger than five and none were girls.
Justin thought about that for a minute. So the IF must see something in her. I wonder if this... this fight helped or hindered her cause? As he thought about that, he realized that he didn't know whether he hoped she was accepted or not. And while he was still contemplating, the door opened. Cheyan walked out, her small face tight with shame and anger.
"Justin, dear," called Mrs. Aniyas, "Please take Cheyan, here, back to her class. Down the hall, it's room one twelve."
"Yes'm," Justin replied, and held out a hand for Cheyan to take. She took it, though with obvious reluctance, and they began walking down the hall. The short walk passed in silence. Finally, they reached 112 and Justin knocked on the door. It opened, and Cheyan went in, closing the door behind her.
Then Justin went outside and waited for a bus. He got on the bus when it stopped, wondering why he ever thought his afternoons as Playground Assistant would be boring!