Freedom Lessons by Eileen Harrison Sanchez

Author:Eileen Harrison Sanchez
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2019-12-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Colleen

Thursday, February 5, 1970

“I missed you so much at Christmas, my heart aches. I’m all thumbs this morning. Oh yeah—it’s Saturday, January thirty-first. This will be quick. I have to get this tape to the post office today. So let me pretend that it’s February fifth.

“Happy birthday, Colleen! Hope you are enjoying a warm and, of course, snow-free day. It’s been so cold here. The wind makes it feel like below zero. Please send me more news about your students. I expect that you have everything under control by now. It’s hard to believe that I had to send your posters and the wall alphabet. Why can’t they get those for you? I’m glad to help—you know that. Anything else? I love you. Signing off. Dad.”

Colleen shut off the tape player, knowing she would play the message again later to relish the sound of his voice. The cassette had arrived just on time. It was the second kindness of the day, but neither one lifted her spirits for more than a moment. She put the tape player away. What could she tell him? Today she was frayed around the edges. If anyone pulled the thread, she would unravel.

Her eyes drifted over to the counter. Now, that was a real surprise—a cake. Colleen had saved the last piece of birthday cake for Miguel. She recalled the confusion when she opened the classroom trailer door as she and her students had returned from lunch.

“Miz Rodriguez, look. There’s a cake on your desk. A big cake!” Linkston shouted.

As she tried to understand what he was telling her, the children all rushed past her and squeezed around her desk. She froze when she saw Cynthia lift a large knife.

“Cynthia! Stop!”

Cynthia turned with the knife still in her hands. “It’s to cut the cake, Miz Rodriguez.”

“Children, please! Sit at your desks.”

“Let me see … What is this?”

“Cynthia, put the knife down.”

Colleen saw Cynthia’s chin tremble and her eyes fill up as she set the knife on the desk.

“I was trying to help, Miz Rodriguez.”

“Why is there a cake on your desk?” Jarrod asked.

“Children, children, you must sit down.”

“Cake? Can we have a piece?”

“Do you have ice cream?”

Only a few students had listened to her. She couldn’t get near the desk because they filled the narrow rows. She was beyond frustration; it was stuffy in the trailer, and she couldn’t reach the air conditioner. It would circulate some air, and the drone would muffle the commotion.

“If you are not in your seats by the time I count to three …”

What? Colleen, what? What will you do?

“One … two … three.”

Most of the children scattered and sat down, but Jarrod still hovered near her desk, looking at the cake.

Is he licking his finger?

“Jarrod! God d … bless America.”

I almost said damn. For crying out loud, calm yourself, Colleen.

Colleen watched as Jarrod finally moved to take his seat. She couldn’t understand what had just happened. Chaos? Over a cake? On her birthday? Who could have done this? She hadn’t told anyone, as far as she could remember.

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