Beholding Bee by Kimberly Newton Fusco

Author:Kimberly Newton Fusco
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Alfred A. Knopf
Published: 2013-02-12T05:00:00+00:00

63

The lady marches me down one hall and then another, her soft soles squeaking. My work boots are so full of holes they barely make a sound. I try not to look at myself in the shined floor and pull my hair tight. I hold my breath and try to be nobody at all.

The lady leads me past one classroom after another, a row of dominoes, all with heavy wooden doors shut tight. We pass the janitor’s closet with a deep steel sink and a heavy metal bucket with a mop sticking out. She stops at the very end of the hall, right near the back door.

“This is your room, Beatrice,” she says, steering me in by the shoulder. I pull my hair tighter over my cheek, my helmet in place.

The room is darkened by a blanket that hangs over a window to block out the sun. When my eyes figure out the dark, I see a teacher knitting in a rocking chair and five children coloring.

“Hey,” says a skinny boy, who jumps up and airplanes around his desk, yelling, “Zoom, zoom, zoom.”

The teacher drops her yarn. “Jonathan!” Even when the teacher gets up the boy doesn’t stop zooming and she can’t get ahold of his arm until he airplanes around the room two more times. He is thin as a broom handle and very fast.

Finally, she grabs his shoulders and shakes him, once, twice, three times. He slips and she grabs his collar and hurries him to his seat and shoves him down. “Now, stay.”

Everyone has forgotten their coloring. My heart is aching. The teacher smooths her dress and walks over to us.

“This is Beatrice.” The lady from the office presses me forward. “Please make a place for her, Mrs. Spriggs.”

The teacher frowns. “You know I am only supposed to be here until the school finds somebody else. I can’t have this many pupils.”

“Just until we determine where she needs to be.” The lady turns to me. “We do not like troublemakers in this school, Beatrice, and we do not put up with them, either. Not for a minute.” Then she marches to the door, opens it, walks out, and slams it behind her.

Mind your britches, I say in my head to the children, who are staring. I pull my hair tighter against my face and make myself breathe, in and out, in and out, the way Pauline showed me. Nobody moves. I don’t move. Inch by inch, I make myself invisible: first my diamond, then my face, then my chest, my arms, my belly. I wonder if Pauline would recognize me.

There are three boys and two girls in this class. I see how I will make six. The girls are at one table, the boys at another. A little girl with pigtails and thick glasses jumps up and rushes over and grabs me around the waist and hugs me so tight I let go of my hair. I reach out to steady myself and pull my curls tight.

In an instant, everyone is up out of their seats.

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