Chapter One
Ken
Athunderous bell signaled the end of morning recess at Blanco Springs Elementary School—the calm before the storm.
Then laughter and chatter from my kindergarteners filled the hallway as we all returned from recess. As we headed toward our classroom, I kneeled beside Sadie, one of my most energetic students, patiently helping her tie her shoelace. “Remember, Sadie, the bunny goes around the tree and into the hole,” I said, guiding her fingers through the motions.
As Sadie triumphantly held up her foot, now sporting a perfect bow, the rest of my class spilled into the room, warm and sweaty from their break. Early March in central Texas—not too hot just yet, but the sun shone bright outside during their morning break.
“Mr. Parker, Tyler and Joey were fighting over that Hot Wheels car. Again,” Angie, my instructional assistant, said as she corralled the boys toward me, frozen in a tug-of-war over a red toy car.
I glanced down at the scowling boys. “What’s going on here?”
“It’s mine!” Joey’s lower lip quivered.
Tyler yanked harder. “No, it’s mine!”
With a gentle hand on each shoulder, I lowered my voice. “Boys, we don’t fight over toys at school. That’s how they get broken.” Their grips loosened, and I pried the car free. “Let’s take a break from this one and find something you can share, okay?”
Matching pouts, but they nodded. I winked knowingly at Angie, who shook her head as she chuckled.
Crisis averted—for now.
The classroom had just settled into our morning circle time when there was a soft rap on the door. Looking up, I saw Natalie Chen, our school nurse, in her colorful scrubs, waiting outside my door with a polite smile. I stood, smoothing my hands on my brown chinos. “Ms. Adomako, would you mind taking over for me?” I asked, holding out the well-worn copy of “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” we had been reading together.
She smiled brightly and nodded at me. “Of course, Mr. Parker.” Angie had worked with me for two years now and was an excellent aide. She took my place at the teacher’s chair, the colorful fabric of her traditional Ghanaian dress swishing as she sat down. She regained the attention of our little herd, her melodic voice filling the room. “Who can remind me what good listeners do when someone else is talking?” Angie asked the class, her accent adding a musical lilt to her words.
Twenty tiny hands flew to cover twenty mouths, the children’s eyes wide with enthusiasm. The soft giggles that followed brought a grin to my face. I gave Angie an appreciative nod as she held up the book for them to see, the vibrant illustrations of the hungry caterpillar capturing their attention once more.
Stepping into the hallway, I closed the door behind me. “What’s up?”
Natalie looked apologetic. “Sorry to pull you from class, Ken, but we’ve just enrolled a new kindergarten student starting today, and she’ll be joining your class. Her name’s Mia Mendez, and she’s had some significant health issues in the past. Her dad came to register this morning, and he’s got a few questions. Any chance you can talk to him?”
What could be worse than seeing your child grappling with serious health issues? “Sure, let’s go meet them.” As we walked through the familiar corridors of my elementary school, I mentally prepared myself for meeting a new parent. Even a small town like Blanco Springs had their fair share of children from all backgrounds and with various needs—yet there was always a flutter of nerves when a new student and their family enrolled. “So, what’s going on with the new girl?”
“Mia has epilepsy,” Natalie explained as we rounded the corner toward her office, her voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “It's well controlled, but this will be her first time in school and her dad’s a bit anxious about leaving her.”
Damn. “Does she have seizures?” I asked, suddenly worried. The word ‘epilepsy’ sounded so daunting. “That poor kid.”
“That’s what her dad wants to talk about,” Natalie replied, her eyes conveying a sense of urgency. “He’s nervous—and rightfully so. I told him you’re an amazing teacher, but I think he needs to hear straight from you that she’ll be fine here with us.”
Natalie’s kind words made me blush, and the sincerity in her tone bolstered my confidence. “Of course,” I replied. But a new student always changed the dynamic in a classroom, like adding an additional ingredient to a recipe that you’d worked hard on making taste good. “So, how’s it been going for you this week?” I asked as we approached the door to Natalie’s office.
Natalie chuckled. “A couple of fifth graders came down with chicken pox. Other than that, it’s been eerily calm around here.”
As soon as we entered the nurse’s office, I saw her. Mia, sitting alone on a chair near the corner of the room, clutching a pink lunchbox, her slight frame dwarfed by the adult-sized furniture surrounding her. Even for a kindergartener, she seemed petite, in a yellow t-shirt and jean shorts with two dark braids framing her delicate face. Yet, as she looked up at us, her bright smile lit up the room like sunshine breaking through a cloudy day, the sight warming my heart instantly.
Natalie’s voice was warm and gentle as she introduced us, her hand resting lightly on Mia’s back. “This is Mr. Parker. He’ll be your teacher.”
Mia’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, her little body practically vibrating with excitement as she beamed back at me. “Hi, Mr. Parker!”
“Hi, Mia.” It was impossible not to mirror her infectious grin. Kneeling down to meet her at eye level, I hoped to put her at ease. “I’m really excited for you to join our classroom.”
She bounced in her seat, her braids swishing with the movement, her tiny hands clasped together in glee. “Me too! I can’t wait to make new friends!”
Watching Mia’s bright smile and excitement, my heart ached with a sudden rush of responsibility, especially knowing the challenges she faced. “I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends in no time,” I told her with a matching grin on my face.
Natalie’s gaze turned toward the door. “Where’s your daddy, Mia?”
