The Devil’s Fool

 

The next morning, I arrived to work with the children early. The Academy was smaller than I expected and looked more like an office building than a school. Inside, there was no reception area, but rather a great room surrounded by several classrooms with glass windows. The huge, circular room consisted of brightly colored boxes, a big plastic jungle gym, and all kinds of toys. Some of the classrooms were filled with desks, where others were full of large foam shapes and various sizes of balls.

 

A short Spanish woman in one of the smaller rooms was arranging desks into a semi-circle. She had auburn hair cut into a bob that fell to her pointy chin. Her nose was just as sharp, but her gentle brown eyes softened the rest of her well-defined features. She bounced and swayed around the room, dancing to a whistled tune I didn’t recognize.

 

I really hoped I wasn’t wasting my time. I should be back at the Deific, learning to fight, but if Charlie trusted Dr. Skinner’s methods, then I would do as he asked, at least for a week. After that, I was going to do something a little more proactive. I was still embarrassed for the way I’d handled myself yesterday with the vampires.

 

I took a deep breath, then tapped the window and waved at the whistling woman.

 

The woman poked her head out and said in a Spanish accent, “Can I help you?”

 

“Yes, my name is Eve. Dr. Skinner sent me here to work as a teachers-aide for the next few weeks.”

 

The woman yelped and threw her arms around me. “That’s right! I completely forgot. I’m so glad you’re here. You are going to have so much fun. Are you excited?”

 

I tried to keep still, but the woman was incredibly strong for her small frame.

 

“I am excited,” I said once I caught my breath.

 

The woman finally stepped away. “You have no idea how much of a difference it is to have another pair of hands. I’m Mamita.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

 

“It’s wonderful to meet you, too. The kids will be arriving in the next fifteen minutes so let me show you around before they come.”

 

After Mamita had given me a tour of the place, which wasn’t much more than I’d already seen, she set me in a chair by the front door where I could watch the children as they arrived. Ten minutes later, a boy who looked to be about eight years old walked in. His straight hair was cut short and combed neatly to the side. He had a difficult time walking, one leg shuffled awkwardly over the other, and many times I thought he would trip, but he managed to stay upright. After hugging who appeared to be his mother, he headed straight for a small TV in the back of the great room, but not without casting me a sideways glance. He wouldn’t look directly at me, but his hand came up just a little, and he waved briefly. I waved back, but I couldn’t be sure he noticed.

 

After him came a steady stream of many more students. Each child had some kind of a physical problem, and each one was unique. One boy came in with the aid of his driver and promptly laid down directly in the middle of the floor and fell asleep until a teacher woke him up minutes later. Another heavy-set girl eagerly entered through the door, opening it with such force that it banged against the wall behind it. She moved toward the TV that was playing a Disney movie and asked the teacher to turn on the captions. Meanwhile, a younger girl with long blonde hair spotted me instantly. She sat on the floor at my side, mouth gaping open. I said hello, but she didn’t respond. She merely smiled.

 

The day went by quickly. I observed doctors and therapists who came in and out at various times throughout the day to work with specific students. They were all patient and kind with the children who at times seemed rude and abrupt. It didn’t take long for me to realize this was because most of the children had a difficult time understanding the teachers and, at the same time, make themselves be understood.

 

Every child had their own special ability: some could write beautiful poetry, others were math whizzes, several could draw amazing pictures, and one older girl shocked me with her ability to play the piano.

 

At first, I didn’t know what to think of the children. I asked myself, Why? Why were all these children born with such challenges and trials? But the children didn’t seem to be bothered by their handicaps. They all seemed happy and content with what they’d been given.

 

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