A Friend like That

When I moved here, I knew I wouldn’t fit in, but I never planned on standing out. I new it would be different but it was completely different. Everyone here was so respectful; where as I grew up with kids who would talk back to teachers and adults and found destroying public property as a wonderful recreational activity. Nevertheless, I’d come here with a purpose and I wasn’t going back.

After twenty-six years of living in London, four of which I spent at a local university, I left my home to work at an elementary school. Three days by train and another by bus, but the time I’d arrived, I was already sick of this little town. There was only one hotel, two gas stations, four privately owned restaurants, one library and no coffee shop. I was shocked; I’d never seen a town that didn’t have at least a tiny coffee shop. They only had one supermarket that sold everything from groceries to clothing. My mobile phone didn’t even get service, how was I going to survive?

Within minutes of leaving the bus stations, I found the small flat I would live in. Luckily it already had furniture and I had no roommate. The walls were painted a bright sunny yellow and the carpet was soft dark green shag. It almost looked like I was living inside a sunflower or a daffodil (I later found out that my students called that particular building the daffodil house.) I threw my suitcases onto the lumpy couch and stalked into the kitchen. The tile was cold under my bare feet and I found myself standing on the run to keep them warm. From my kitchen window, I could see the elementary school I would be working at, its bright red roof standing out amongst the green trees that were very prevalent. I also saw the river that divided the town in half like a silvery blue ribbon the gods had dropped from the sky.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the letter I had received three weeks ago. Three weeks ago, I found a large envelope in my box at the post office. It had been a large manila envelope that had gotten several curious looks there. What had everyone stumped was the fact that it used my full name. Everyone knew me as Arian Gregory. Arianrhod Kaira Gregory, how I hated that name as a child. The letter had no return address so the post had no choice but to give it to me. The letter had been printed on crisp tan paper and explained that my psychology professor in college had recommended me for a teaching position at the Dan Olsen elementary school where they were having problems placing teachers. They told me to be prepared for students in all frames of mind and that I would have to work with them to gain their trust. It said to be to work by eight o’clock each morning starting August third if I accepted. What the letter meant by gaining their trust I’m still not sure, but I’d have to wait to find out.

The room got darker and I looked through the window again. The sun was low on the horizon, stuck between two hills, shooting bolts of bright color into the deep blue sky. I turned away and sank onto the couch. It would be night soon, the time when all my terrors came to life with the shadows that crawl along the walls and underneath furniture. The monsters follow me, even though I’d left home days before my sixteenth birthday. I’d left everything and found my estranged aunt in London, leaving everything that had ever hurt me. I’d left my father with his drunken ways and heavy hand. Left my mother with her shrill voice and unforgiving eye. Left the oppressive Christian home for the open-minded welcome of my pagan aunt. And yet they still haunted me in my mind. Quickly I pulled out my mp3 player and turned the music up so loud it destroyed all conscious thought processes.

6:00 a.m. August Third.

I rolled off the couch and landed in a heap on the cold hardwood floor. I sat up in a jolt of realization that I only had less than two hours to get to work. I fumbled through all my suitcases before deciding on a lightweight white cotton shirt and pale green capris. I ran into the kitchen and threw a pot of coffee on the coffee maker before running into the bathroom to shower. Running a brush briskly through my hair, I threw on some make up and ran out again. Dashing through the kitchen I grabbed a cup of coffee and a banana before slipping on a pair of white ballet flats and hurrying out the door. I glanced at the clock before the door slammed behind me, 7:30.

I walked through the doors of the Dan Olsen elementary school just as the large clock in the town square tolled, informing every single person in this infernal town that it was eight o’clock and I was late. It was a small building with pale blue walls with pictures tacked to them drawn in bright crayon. There were only three classrooms each with a wall of cubby holes for the children to put their lunches in. no one was in the first two rooms but when I peeked into the last one I was surprised to find three other adults sitting at a table shaped like a kidney bean. I stopped, ran fingers through my wild hair in an attempt to tame it and knocked on the open door. The others turned to look at me before ushering me in. My colleague’s names, I learned, were MaryAnne and Beverly; the other woman was the principal of the school. Quickly they briefed me as t what would happen. Apparently I’d gotten the class where no teacher had lasted longer than two weeks. By 8:45, I was in my classroom waiting for the children to arrive.

A little black head peeked around the doorframe; bright eyes looked at me before two children walked in. They were obviously twins, girls at that too. One was shorter than the other and hid behind her sister. I smiled, but didn’t move from the table I was sitting on. Shyly the two walked up and the bolder one looked at me then stuck out her hand.

“I’m Evin, and that’s Aidian. She can’t talk so I talk for her, that’s the way God made us.”

I sighed; here we go with the religion card. I could already tell that almost all of the people who lived here were predominantly Catholic, but I’d hoped there would be at least one person who was pagan. I smiled at the girls and shook her little hand.

“I’m glad to meet you Evin and Aidian. I’m your new teacher; you may call me Miss Arian. Do you like your school?”

Evin nodded but Aidain’s hands flew in a flurry as she said something. NO, ALL THE BOYS TEASE ME BECAUSE I CAN’T TALK. Evin opened her mouth to translate but I laughed lightly.

“How silly those boys are, they missed out on a great friend.”

Aidian nodded and smiled shyly. Just then more students started to fill up the room, putting away their lunches before crowding around me. Gently Ii told them to sit down and then we would get to know each other. When they finally sat down, I counted about fifteen students give or take a few.

“I’m your new teacher. You may call me Miss Arian. I’m glad to meet you. What are your names?”

Tiny voices shouted out names, creating a cacophony of noise. It took about fifteen minutes to get all of their names and how old they were. It took another twenty minutes to get the children settled down and into the groove of things again. They sat in groups of four or five at three tables. Going through my desk drawer, I found name cards, markers, and tape. I wrote each student’s name on a card and taped it to the table where they would sit. The rest of the day went very smoothly.

I never found out why my class was so hard to deal with until a month and a half later. Aidian and Evin were one of my most favorite students, they always came to school and Aidian had such a witty sense of humor. Of course there were other children I really liked but all in all they were a good class. They had problems like any class should, but I wouldn’t say they were horrible. We were searching for fall leaves in the creek near the school when one boy fell in. he splashed and panicked in the waist deep water, screaming as chunks of early winter ice floated past him. Within five minutes I had him inside the school, wearing a large shirt that went past his knees and a pair of old gym sweats I’d found in the supply closet. My class was under the care of MaryAnne and he was sound asleep on the couch in the faculty room. He rolled over in his sleep, pulling up the left sleeve of the shirt, revealing a large handprint of a bruise on his arm. I dropped the blanket I was holding and sank onto a chair. I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore, I thought I’d gotten rid of any evidence of my father. Memories of him flashed through my min, memories of the verbal assault that always accompanied the beatings, the memory of his large beefy hand closing around my neck, cutting off my airway. I shook my head trying to block out the memories. Come on Arian, you’ve got a class to teach.

That was the first sign that something was not quite right and signs kept on appearing. Not only from the little boy but from others in my class too. I constantly found small bruises on their arms or legs, small enough that someone who hadn’t experienced something similar wouldn’t notice. I tried to ignore it, maybe it was just an accident, maybe they ran into a chair and they bruise easily. I tried to tell myself it was just that and to not worry. That’s where I went wrong.

On April 14, Evin didn’t come to school and Aidian was hysterical. I tried everything I could to try to calm her down but all I got out of her was COME HELP EVIN. She couldn’t stop crying and stood in the corner hugging a ragged stuffed bunny as if it was the only safe anchor in the world I sat the class down and ran into Bev’s classroom. Quickly I explained what was going on and asked if she could watch my class while I sorted things out. She agreed and within five minutes, I was following Aidian towards her house on the other side of town.

Her house was a dilapidated shack on the outskirts of town; broken beer bottles littered the road and sparkled in the light, pretending to be jewels. The door was slightly open and a man was asleep on the porch, a hat covering his eyes. He jerked when I set foot on the porch steps, which creaked under the sudden weight. Aidian was hiding behind me, clutching my skirt tightly.

“Girl, I swore that if you came back I’d kill you and I wasn’t lying either. So you’d best be getting off this porch before I look up.” His gravely voice made Aidian cringe and I could smell the liquor on his breath.

“Sir, you’d better hope that I don’t remember that for later.” I said, trying to hide my fear under some false courage. “Where is Evin?”

The man stood up, the hat falling to the ground where it joined numerous beer bottles. His clothes were beer stained and he couldn’t stand straight, he had to lean on the doorframe to keep upright.

“Who’re you?” He asked trying to look at me in the bright light.

“I am Evin’s school teacher, now where is she?”

“School? Why do I care?”

I sighed obviously; he didn’t care a bit about his children and would sooner shoot then ask questions later. I stepped down off the porch and he sat back on his chair, mumbling something about shooting me if I showed up again. I turned to Aidian.

“Is there another way to get to Evin?” I asked. She nodded and I followed her around the house to the back yard where, in the corner of a tiny but well-kept garden, I saw the one thing I’d hoped never to see again. Evin’s body was dumped in a heap of the garden she had taken care of, left among the daffodils and tulips. Aidian stayed where she was when I stepped forward. My hands were shaking badly and I could hardly think straight. There, hidden in the flowers Aidian loved so much, was her protector, her guardian angel, her best friend. Mentally I yelled at myself for being too wrapped up in my own fears, that I never even noticed what was happening under my very nose.

Gently I picked Evin up, her head lolling around like a doll and carried her out of the garden. A small hand reached up to me and I grabbed it, grateful for the link back to the real world. Together we walked around that dilapidated old shack, past the drunk man on the porch and toward the school. Together.

Evin’s funeral was the next week and everyone in town came to visit her before she left us for a better world. It was a Christian service, but I attended, thinking it was the best thing I could do to honor her. Aidian sat with me, silent as ever, but she didn’t cry again after that day. Since that day she had been staying in my apartment with me and I intended it to stay that way. I continued teaching, even though it was really hard for the first few days after her death, I had a promise to keep and I wasn’t going to break it.

Aidian walked up to her sister’s coffin one last time before it closed for good. YOU WERE MY BEST FRIEND. YOU WERE THE ONLY FRIEND I EVER HAD. PLEASE MAKE SURE GOD SENDS ME ANOTHER FRIEND LIKE THAT. At this tears started running down my face, Aidian turned to me motioning that she was ready to go.

ARE YOU A FRIEND LIKE THAT MISS ARIAN? She asked as we walked away.

“Yes Aidian, I’m a friend like that.”