After school that afternoon, I had a talk with Mr. Florence. What I learned was perplexing and I worried even more.
"Three years ago, 23-year-old Daina Scotland applied to become a teacher here. When the board refused her, she was devastated, for she had been in and out of employment for quite some time. She was already so crushed that she looked as if suicide was her very next option. I felt pity for her, so I made many attempts to convince the board. Finally, I got a yes. It made her really happy for a time, but she soon slipped back into her weaker side. Even now, I am the only person she talks with outside of her students. Actually, she only does her job exceptionally well and that is it. No social contact short of answering Chemistry questions. That is the only thing we ever talk about, because it makes her feel comfortable. When I was a student, I did the subject. So perhaps she feels a sort of understanding between us."
I could only remain silent. All I did manage to say after several moments was, "You mean, she has been like this for that long?" He nodded. I was having a hard time processing all of this. Just what sort of deal have I gotten myself involved in? Why is she so sad, scratch that, depressed all the time?
"You see, young man, she has a very big issue, but she always refuses to talk about it," said Florence as if reading my thoughts. "She is so deeply troubled that it is difficult to imagine what she went through."
"Yeah," I had nothing better to say.
He inhaled and exhaled. "You know, that was not the first time she has had an incident like that... Only the first time she has ever been chosen for a homeroom role. Perhaps I was too pushy on her. Perhaps I should change her..."
I looked at him with a peculiar gaze.
Then suddenly, a force of determination swept through my being. "Not-ta-chance!" I declared without really thinking it through. The following words just flowed out of me like water in a storm drain, "This is a serious problem which has gone on for long enough. She needs a friend, someone to help her out. I may be half her age, but in all my naïveté I love her!" Seeing his awkward look, I quickly added, "Like my own mother, I mean! You should have seen her smile; it is the most beautiful on Earth! I hate seeing her so unhappy. It pains me, right in the heart!" I placed the flat of my palm over my chest.
He looked taken aback at my passionate, emotion driven speech. "Somehow, I expected something like this, but I honestly was not prepared for it. You are an interesting young man... Your sense of justice and caring is almost mature! I respect you, Bill Punjabé!" He offered his hand which I shook. "Bill, I believe that your heroic action yesterday made her see something in you. You are the first person to get her to actually open out socially to a person and I know you can do it again. I shall leave her with Class 8A in your capable hands."
"Thank you, Sir, Mr. Florence. You can count on me! I won't let you or her down!"
"I am glad. I am even willing to bet on you! Now, scram on home! Take care."
"Bye, Mr. Florence." I got up and left his office.
After that evening I spent with Mr. Florence, I made it a point of duty to do what I could every morning at Homeroom for Miss Daina. This made things run more smoothly, and Lauren would help sometimes. The two of us quickly became friends as I shared the mission with her. Such a task was far too delicate to be handled by one person, I had realized.
At lunchtime, Lauren and Miss Daina would sit with Sammy, Joe and me. We did look like an odd bunch; four teens and a teacher, but who cared? We did not. Gradually we saw little improvements, especially since everyone was very careful of anything we spoke to her. I had especially drilled into Sammy the gravity of the matter.
As the days turned into weeks, I worked hard at my studies. I really wanted that laptop Dad promised me and I was not about to screw up this chance. Without realizing it, I grew smarter and topped the majority of my subjects, even Social Studies, another boring subject I only disliked less than History. Except for Math because Lauren was better, and History because... Well... Because Miss Diego was a metaphorical witch!
I HAD misjudged her. She was WORSE than I could have possibly imagined! She was both conceited AND condescending. She would often berate us. Every 10 seconds or so, she would pull out a mirror, even mid-sentence so as to maintain routine, and admire herself for thirty, that's three-zero, seconds straight! I actually went as far as timing her myself using a stopwatch I borrowed from Miss Carolyn Thomas, and that was the value I got after averaging out my human reaction time error. How could anyone be so obsessed with themselves?
Moving on, Sammy was up to his old self again, pulling out some old tricks as well as new ones. Get this; during week two, he Toilet-Papered the girls' washroom. He luckily did not get caught. Mrs. Florence's face was priceless. Truth be told, I wanted to join him in his antics, but that sentiment was quickly quashed in week three.
On the Tuesday of that week, the cocky idiot went too far. He got into the school garden and unlatched the chicken coop. He scared the chickens, causing the maddened birds to fly out over the school. The school grounds received an aerial bombardment of poop! It would take days to get rid of the scent of ammonia. Anyway, his luck had ran out as he was unfortunately picked up by angry 12th graders. Particularly, his sister was in a not-so-forgiving mood. Poor guy got the pummeling of a lifetime, and a term worth of community service. I would not want to clean the chicken coop, or the cafeteria roof (which had taken the most bombardment as it was nearest), any time soon. Again, poor guy.
Speaking of Mr. Tanaka...
"Konichiwa, Bill-san. How may I not help you today?" he greeted jokingly. We had become good friends. Now and then, we would have a chat or exchange friendly banter.
"Well Mr. Tanaka–"
"Come on, Bill. Say it how I taught the class to address me!"
"OK, OK, Tanaka-san," I complied.
"That's better."
"Great. As I was saying, my father wants to buy me a laptop at the end of the term if I come out with straight A's. What would you recommend?"
"I see... Let's see. Hmm, hmm, hmm..." He looked deep in thought. Suddenly his face lit up and he launched into techno mode, "Oh! How about the CoreTec Zentop III!? It's got Windows 20 operating system, 4 Terabyte hard disc drive, 24 Gigabyte RAM, super-fast 4.65 Gigahertz processor, 2GB VRAM graphics card and 16-inch diagonal touch screen LCD!" Would you believe that all of this was said in one breath? I barely understood a thing he said due to how fast he spoke, but it all sounded awesome. "I heard that there might be a special sale sometime during the midterm break. Your father and I should be able to get one at a reduced price. I myself have been meaning to upgrade for a while now."
"Well, maybe the two of you should order together," I suggested. "Who knows, maybe we'll get a bonus."
"That's a splendid idea. Please run it by your dad." We shook hands and I departed from his station in the IT Lab.
At home, Dad liked the idea. He was very pleased that my grades were alright so far.
Weeks five and six flew by like rockets, mostly without incident. Mr. Tanaka was the newest addition to our lunch table. I enjoyed his company, for he helped bring out more from Daina. She was still inherently shy, but she was speaking more and seemed happier. She actually smiled more often and even lost her nervous fidgeting. Even after all this time, I could not fathom how so much had changed.
Sammy was still sour but Joe and I did our best to cheer him up. After it was found out that he had committed the other offenses, his punishment had worsened. His parents were raging mad, and they saw fit to cramp out his style. And that was sugar coating it...
On Friday night at the end of week six I got the biggest surprise of my life. When Dad came home, he was carrying just the right sized box. "Christmas came early, son!"
I. Was. Astonished. Flabbergasted. "Dad, you didn't..."
"I sure did!" replied dad. "Guess what!"
"Uh, your bad egg brother, my uncle, mended his ways?" You do not want to know who that is; trust me on this one.
"Even better! There was this special that Mr. Tanaka informed me of while I was at work, and we both agreed to capitalize!" My mind... crashed. "There is a catch though." I immediately restarted. "It is not yours until the end of the term as per our original agreement. We will set it up together tonight after dinner, but that is all. Understood?"
I saluted. A deal was a deal. There was no point in him letting me have it now. If I got hooked on it, it might spoil my grades. Then, it would never be mine.
Regardless, I went to bed that night feeling very accomplished. Life was moving along pretty sweetly. Miss Daina was getting better, my grades were alright (except History, but I had explained the situation with Miss Diego to my democratic father and gotten him to excuse the subject), and my laptop was secured. Nothing could go wrong.
Or so I thought, however. Nothing, but nothing could have adequately prepared me for the emotional rollercoaster that would be day 1, week seven; absolutely nothing.
October 13th, 2043.
On Monday morning, week seven, the weather was strange. The sky was dark and cloudy, but it seemed to refuse to rain. The air was very chilly, so I was shivering. I hated the cold, for it usually made me feel lethargic. I liked to say that I had a "negative two resistance to the cold."
Something was up. My inner clock was signaling impending despair. I tried to ignore it, but it was relentless.
During the morning assembly, there was a sickening feeling in my belly, which escalated when I noticed that Miss Daina looked unhappy again... Like, more than having-a-bad-day kind of unhappy... And that Miss Diego was smirking devilishly. I had never seen that kind of look on the middle school bullies' faces before. It was quite scary. Just how was no one else noticing this?
My fears came to a head in Homeroom. Five minutes had passed and there was no sign of Daina. Now I was really worried, terrified even. "Where is she!? What is happening out there? Don't tell me she...?"
A familiar voice broke me from my peril, just to add salt on my wounds, "Bill! Something... terrible... has happened! Run to... the... Principal's office!" I turned to face it at the door. It was a breathless Lauren, and her voice had spoken of a Class-Z emergency. "I'll hold the fort! Just go! Do what you can!"
I shot up from my seat, causing the chair to fall over. "On it!" I said in a brave voice before looking at the classroom. "Everyone, listen up! There's trouble. Stay in your seats until Homeroom is over. Lauren is in charge. Don't make this any harder than it already is!" I declared.
"You got it, Bill!" replied some of the boys.
"We will keep them out of trouble," said a few girls. I smiled sheepishly.
"Good luck, man," wished Joe. I nodded.
With that, I cleared out of the classroom. Facing east, I put my arms at my sides, leaned and raced forward like a ninja, running only on the tips of my toes. I was not very athletic, but whenever I ran like this I was 4 percent faster! I weaved through students and teachers. "Slow down, busybody!" yelled a teacher. Daina's sorrowful expression from Day 2 was the only thing on my mind, pushing me forth, so I could not stop.
However, I stopped dead in my tracks upon seeing Mr. Tanaka stepping out of the Reception house with a decidedly grim expression on his face, my heart sinking at the sight of it. "Hurry, Bill-san, before it is too late. You are her last hope." His voice was sad but urgent.
"Well, here goes." Taking a deep breath, I walked past him into the reception. No; I entered into Hell. Her cries invaded my ears as soon as I was in. It was the most tragic thing I had ever heard. The kind you cry when you give up on life. When you feel you have lost it all; that no one cares about you, needs you, or even wants you. That kind...
"Bill Punjabé, right?" asked the worried receptionist. I nodded. "You be wanted in there. Godspeed to you, brave lad." I nodded, casually dismissing her distinct Scottish accent.
I reigned in my emotions, took a deep breath, trotted to the Principal's door, knocked and entered. "Mr. Florence?"
"Good heavens, you have arrived!" He was almost shouting due to how loud she was crying. "I have no idea how this could have happened! She isn't even talking to me or Mr. Sakamoto!" He got up and brought his executive chair over, placing it in front of Daina. "Here, I'll give you some privacy. Maybe she will listen to you. It is all up to you now. Make me proud; do not fail us!" With that, he left us alone, shutting the door behind him. I sighed as I sat down.
I tried to get her attention, "Miss Scotland... Miss Daina... DAINA!" I cringed when she suddenly stopped. She brought up her face from her hands and I looked into sore eyes brimming with tears and pain.
"Billy? You came..." She offered a weak smile before lapsing back into her crying of despair.
This bad!? What am I supposed to do? I may have made tremendous progress before, but now the situation is a teenage boy and a crying older woman... Wait... That's it! I know what to do!
All I had to do was what I always did for my mother on her bad days, such as whenever she lost a patient. I rolled the comfy chair closer, leaned in and embraced Miss Daina as tightly as I could manage. She stiffened within my hold, and I began to work.
"Daina, dear. Please stop crying. Please tell me what's wrong... what's hurting you..." She steadily quieted down. Is this actually working? Let's test that! I spoke slower, "I promise that I'll understand... that I'll help you if I can." She was now only lightly sobbing and sniffling. I slowed even further, whispering soothingly, "Please, calm down. Let me help you... You can get through this... I don't like seeing you so sad."
At that, she wrapped her arms around me. "Oh dear..., I'm... so... sorry. I... made you worry..."