Nora began the day as she always did, attempting to conquer the superpower of invisibility. If it wasn’t for her tooth, she might have come close to succeeding.
Samuel Hogan stepped out of his brown hatchback and glanced around the little schoolyard. His professor had billed this tour of rural schools “student teaching”, but he knew it wasn’t as simple as that – it was really a charade, a plan by University administrators and principals to get them into the classrooms and staff lounges of these little pipsqueak schools. But still, he couldn’t help but love it - this is what he’d been working towards. This was a chance to be with kids - teach them, watch them change, learn from them. It would be fun!
Samuel strode evenly toward the double doors of the elementary school as the first bus of the morning delivered a batch of swinging arms, legs and backpacks onto the blacktop, dusting the school grounds with neon jackets and acid washed denim. A boy stood staring up at him, his body frozen on the pavement. Samuel gave him his standard hey there kind of smile and watched the boy peel off toward the tetherball. He could hear the whispers behind him, kids staring and marveling at him as they always did in these towns where every child, every teacher, every day was undistinguishable from all the others. Kids will be kids, he thought with a smirk as he tossed a ponytail behind his back and took the steps two at a time.
Behind him, Nora moved slowly and methodically as she compelled herself to enclose the space she needed in order to exist – nothing more than the shadow of a ghost as long as she could keep them all from noticing. Words bounced in the wind, making their way through the disappearing sliver of space as the door descended to its frame behind her. Ewww, gross! You open the door! I’m not touching it! Don’t touch me, you touched the door!
Laughter.
Samuel was assigned to a Grade 2/3 classroom with Mrs. Wilson – a small and wiry life form, unable to talk to him without arching her neck unless she took two steps back from his six-foot-five frame. She was one of those no-nonsense kind of teachers, flicking the lights off for attention and demanding silence as kids paraded into the room – their heads predictably bent together in conversation, or hands clutched in solidarity. Samuel looked at her with amusement, adding another category of teacher to a mental list of people he would not become. He glanced around the small classroom – crowded by most standards, but still only twenty-odd desks for two full grades. Blackboards filled the wall behind Mrs. Wilson’s desk – headings lining the top with Daily Spelling and Lunch Detention. Seven- and eight-year-olds were pouring into the congested space, engulfing Samuel in an ocean of moving body parts that wound their way to their personal spaces, emptying pockets of R2D2 figurines and troll pencil toppers into light-beige desks with flip-up lids.
Mrs. Wilson introduced him to the class as soon as they were seated – Mr. Hogan written in cursive in the middle of the chalkboard. She looked at them with severity in her sharp eyes as she gestured to the overwhelming stature of the man next to her, daring them to be anything other than polite. She looked at him with something other than kindness in her own eyes - a tight-lipped smile and brief nod as she dismissed him from his position next to her. He knew she was requiring politeness from herself as well as the kids.
“Now, stand for the singing of Oh Canada and the Lord’s Prayer,” she said as she positioned herself at a small upright piano in the corner of the room. They all rose on cue, stealing glances at him as they stood beside their desks, hands folded as they’d been trained.
Samuel had learned that this was always the best moment to scan a classroom – pegging for himself who were likely to be the rowdy ones, the chatty ones or the rule-followers, and all the shades of in-between. The boy from the blacktop was there – Matthew he’d heard someone call him. And there were a couple of girls he’d seen whispering together outside and then in the hallway, any chance they got it seemed. But then - as Samuel’s eyes danced over the heads of this new flock of the unknown - he spotted Nora for the first time. She stood obediently in position as the piano played, her mouth forming the memorized lyrics – with glowing hearts we see thee rise…. – but her shoulders rounded and bent like a tortoise entering its shell, and tangled chunks of dark hair hung limply over her shoulders, allowing only the smallest sliver of her face to be seen by the world. It was just a flicker, a hiccup of an instant come and gone that Nora’s deep brown eyes found Samuel’s. But there was something in that moment that made his stomach clench slightly, knowing he was being called as an observer.
The morning was consumed with math workbooks and silent reading time. Samuel rotated around the classroom, looking for those tell-tale signs of incomprehension as heads bent low and pink and blue erasers rubbed papers raw. Kids looked up at him with suspicion when he approached them, something that was not unusual to him, something he’d decided to accept and greet with a smile. They were allowed to read after they finished their pages, and most of them were now tucked into a book at their desks. Samuel sat down with Matthew and two of his faithful followers, all three boys looking for ways to destroy Samuel's resolve instead of completing their math assignment. Matthew began to repeatedly tip his chair back, banging Samuel’s knee with increasing frequency. “Boys, let’s look at number three. BOYS!” They ignored him, smirking with a malevolence that defied their youth.
At the front of the classroom, Nora's voice disappeared into wisps of air as she stood facing her obligations, her workbook in hand. There was laughter all around and it crept under Nora's skin like a parasite and then wetness crowded her eyelids until she couldn't see. The earth rattled beneath Nora's feet as the teacher sighed loudly, exasperated with this failure of a human that stood before her.
"When you cry, it just clouds up your mind and you can’t get your work done!" Samuel looked up at the sound of Mrs. Wilson’s voice coasting over the muted whispers of the classroom. There was Nora, her eyes again on the ground and her hair covering her cheeks like a shield. “Nora, take your seat and do number four again. It's not right.”
Samuel watched Nora tuck her workbook to her chest and then angle her arms awkwardly across it, twisting her body in inexplicable angles to maneuver past the other children at their desks. Her classmates' feet silently cleared the aisle as she approached, their bodies sliding sharply into their desks until the attached metal bar prevented further escape. Two girls were holding their noses and another was frantically tugging her sweater out of the way before Nora reached her.
Thunk. Matthew had just fallen from his chair and was laughing in uncontrollable silent hiccups, the other two banging their desks in unison with their own coils of laughter. Mrs. Wilson was saying something and marching over to them and Samuel snapped to attention, busying himself by straightening Matthew's desk and insisting he get himself off the floor. When he looked back at Nora, she had almost disappeared, her spine curling over so far she was barely there.
Recess was as much of a relief to Samuel as it was to the exploding stampede of children who bolted through the back doors to the playground. Samuel looked around the classroom and sighed, picking up pencils and broken eraser bits as Mrs. Wilson stood at the door ushering out the slow ones. Samuel noticed Nora pushing the book she was supposed to read during class under her sweatshirt. As she lifted it at her waist, he could see how her pants gathered excessively at her belly, tied onto her with a piece of thick yarn. She tried to move quickly, her face red and her eyes on the floor - but she wasn't fast enough.
“You can’t take that outside, Nora,” Mrs. Wilson snapped. “It’ll get ruined, put it in your desk. If you had done your math faster, you would have had time to read.” Samuel watched as Nora lifted the desk and put the book away, never uttering a word of argument or explanation. Mrs. Wilson waved her arm, hurrying Nora outside. Then, as Nora shuffled past, her teacher sighed and slowly shook her head from side to side, an action almost too small to see. But Samuel watched Nora fold into herself a little more as she slipped through the doorframe and into the hallway.
Nora's fingers scraped the side of the school, sensations on her skin whispering reminders that she was still able to feel. Morning recess pushed her around the edges of the school until the waves of time sucked her into their vortex. There was the merry-go-round in the distance, spinning and spinning and spinning, too fast for her eyes to see her classmates, and too fast for sadness to land. The giant new teacher was there, his hands deep inside his pockets, watching them spin.
When the children poured in from recess, their cheeks rosy and all out of breath, Samuel smiled and waved them in, scanning the crowd for Nora. He hadn't seen her playing with the other children at recess, it was like she'd disappeared. But there she was, coming up slowly at the back of the group, her eyes still down.
"What's so interesting about those shoes?" Samuel teased Nora as she entered the doors off the playground. Nora's body stiffened and she almost looked up, then stopped. She must have known he was talking to her because she shrugged her shoulders and walked faster, desperate to get away. Samuel watched her walk into the classroom, her body always adjusting to the kids around her. Not too fast or too slow, never getting too close to anyone. Samuel followed, shutting the door quietly behind him. Mrs. Wilson was already talking, telling everyone to sit down, clapping her hands sharply, her eyes narrowing in on kids not yet in their seats. Samuel smiled at Nora as she turned around and slid her body into her desk. But she didn't look up.
The kids had just settled into their phonics lesson when the dental nurse first appeared. Samuel had seen her in the hallways earlier and had heard some of the teachers talking about the little resource room at the end of the hall that had been turned into a make-shift dental office. It was something that happened in these small, rural schools - a health initiative to adults - a torture chamber to the kids. Murmurs of fear and anxiety started to drift across the classroom as kids' names were called one by one. Nora somehow seemed to grow smaller as her classmates were called in alphabetical order. She sat bent over her work, her long hair covering the sides of her face. As Samuel walked slowly up and down the aisles, ready to answer questions, he hovered near Nora's desk. A tear had fallen onto her work, blurring her printing. She swiped at it with her hand, trying to dry it, but making it worse.
"Nora Harper! Nora, time to go!" It was Mrs. Wilson. The last child had returned from the dental nurse and stood at the teacher's desk with a brown paper bag of supplies and instructions to send Nora next. Nora pulled herself from her desk, slid her sleeve across her face, and walked to the door without looking up. Her foot touched the desk of one of her classmates as she walked by and the child scraped the desk across the floor, pulling it away like an extension of her body that had just been burned. A boy across the aisle laughed at the exchange, pointing and holding his nose and elbowing his friend on the other side.
"Get back to work," Samuel said, a little too gruffly as he made his way between the children. "And straighten your desk. You'll trip someone that way." Samuel looked up at the door. Nora was gone.
The air behind Nora's head whistled with the giant teacher's voice as she turned from her classroom door and began the walk over speckled tile to the dental office. The nurse hovered at the door at the end of the hallway, watching and waiting for Nora to get there. A whooshing noise filled Nora's ears like crashing waves and maybe the nurse spoke to her as she placed a bony hand on Nora's shoulder, guiding her toward the dentist chair. The words "holy cow" tumbled from the nurse's lips and that's when Nora could feel the swollen lump inside her right cheek.
Samuel stared at the front of the classroom, shifting his weight from one foot to the next and trying to decide exactly what he was going to say to Mrs. Wilson. Nora was gone much longer than the other children, and when she returned the nurse came with her and spoke with Mrs. Wilson at the door for over five minutes. Nora's eyes had darted in fear as the two women spoke and for a second Nora looked right at him - but then her eyes were back on the floor, her hair falling forward and her shoulders bending in on themselves.
"Mrs. Wilson?" Samuel stepped forward, arching over slightly to catch the teacher's eyes.
"Yes? How are we doing, Mr. Hogan?"
"I'm doing just fine. But - well, I was just wondering if everything is okay with Nora? She seems pretty upset."
"The child has a huge abscess in her back molar and it will have to be pulled. The dentist is coming tomorrow." Mrs. Wilson paused, flicking her head toward Nora. "It figures. Just look at her. She probably doesn't even own a toothbrush." Mrs. Wilson went back to marking math homework then, writing giant C's in red pen over full pages or tiny x's as she found each imperfection. Then she glanced up over her glasses, dismissing him like one of the children.
"Thank you for letting me know," Samuel said quietly, backing away. He turned to look at Nora. Her hands were shaking and her skin was pale. Samuel was worried that she might even pass out if someone didn't keep at eye on her. He glanced back at Mrs. Wilson. She was going to start the science lesson soon. It was now or never.
Nora's eyes blurred at the crossword puzzle on her desk and her stomach clenched in fear. She felt cold now, her body shivering uncontrollably and her head pulsating a rhythmic strike. She glanced up, just for a second. A shadow was lowering itself in front of her, chocolate brown eyes searching for hers. Something felt different - warm, and somehow safe. Nora almost missed it - this newness that she did not know inside her prison. But there it was, and so she sat inside it.
Samuel angled his head downwards, toward Nora - searching for her eyes. He was sitting backwards in a child's desk. The girl had gone to the bathroom and now Samuel could see her in his peripheral vision, hovering at the door, unsure where to go. She'll have to wait, he thought as he touched Nora's shoulder gently and said her name. Nora looked up at him slowly, and not for long, but it was enough. He had found her.
"Hey, do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"
Nora shrugged her shoulders, then shook her head. Samuel could see the tears filling her eyes. "That's okay," he answered. They sat quietly like that for a few moments and Samuel watched Nora's fingers begin to relax against each other. Her breathing was slower too, just a little.
"Sometimes," Samuel said quietly. "I get really scared. Sometimes I get so scared of things that I just want to hide. Like maybe find a nice warm cave in the forest and cuddle up with a friendly bear who's hibernating and doesn't know that I'm a person, so she's super nice to me and just let's me hang out there until I don't feel so scared anymore." Samuel paused. "Do you feel like that sometimes too, Nora?"
Nora nodded. Then Samuel nodded and folded his hands on the desk in front of Nora, mirroring her pose - holding onto her fear as they shared a tiny space of safety in a hostile classroom.
"They're gonna pull my tooth out tomorrow," Nora whispered, her tiny voice barely audible above the hum of talking and shuffling papers and moving bodies. "I don't want them to! It's gonna hurt!" Nora was sobbing then, her shoulders shaking as words finally poured from her body, cleansing her.
Samuel sat quietly, listening as Nora spat out her fears. She was still only whispering, but he could hear her, and he wouldn't leave until she knew that. Slowly, Nora's body found its rhythm, her sputtering sobs smoothing into breathing, and her shoulders dropping slightly as tension leaked out of her muscles. Samuel sucked in his own deep breath, trying to find the right words for this child.
"Nora, it's okay to be scared. I get scared sometimes too. Everyone does. Did you know that?" Samuel paused, watching and waiting for Nora to answer, but she was quiet. "And you know what else? I'm coming right back here tomorrow. We can talk before you see the dentist, and then I'll be right here when you get back. Okay, Nora?"
It was then that Mrs. Wilson started to flick the lights to get everyone's attention and the child who'd gone to the bathroom came up and stood right next to them, crossing her arms impatiently as she waited for her desk. His time was almost up.
Samuel reached out his pinkie, waiting for Nora to hook it with his. "I'll be here tomorrow, and we'll get through it together. Do we have a deal, Nora?"
Nora nodded, hesitating. Then she reached up, fitting her pinkie into his.
"Deal," she whispered.
Nora stepped forward again on the cold tile of the hallway, making her way to the dental office. She was the only one going back, the only one with an abscess. The dentist didn't usually come to the school, but this time was different. Her parents couldn't afford a regular visit in his office. Everyone was doing them a favour.
Mr. Hogan had been telling her jokes about hibernating bears when the nurse knocked on the door. Then he told her that she was brave and he knew she'd be okay and he would be there when she got back. That's when Nora looked up to see his brown eyes again. They were warm and Nora tried to hold them with the brown of her own, but her feelings were so big and she couldn't look for long.
But still his brown eyes flickered in Nora's mind as she lay back in the giant chair, hands and metal pushing around inside her mouth. She imagined cuddling a hibernating bear, big and soft and safe, until everything was done. When she ran her tongue over the hole in her mouth and then her deflated gum, relief washed over her. She couldn't wait to go back to the classroom. She couldn't wait to tell Mr. Hogan that she'd been brave enough, that she hadn't even cried.
Nora forgot about the other kids as she made her way back, looking up from the tile to spot her classroom door. She forgot about held noses and contaminating touches and teachers with stern eyebrows. It was only a few moments that those memories dissipated, vanishing like evaporated water. They would soon return, consuming Nora again, making her stomach clench in panic and fear and loss of childhood. But for those few moments, Nora forgot. The giant teacher was on the other side of that door - a shelter from her storm.
As Nora turned the corner and found Mr. Hogan's eyes, she offered a crooked smile and poked her cheek.
I'm okay, she whispered.
© 2022 Shirley Hay