Love is Strange

"When I saw the pool, I thought it would be cold. But Vaaman told me it was heated.  I am upper middle class.  From India.  And I felt guilty.  Later, I decided I would own that pool."

I am back in school.  I try to keep my heart and mind high.  I sat down for the first faculty meeting breakfast, after getting the only rudimentary vegan food available, which I am not asshole about because thankfully something was there, when our principal instructed us to pray.  That, I will not do.  I'll take your milk-fat laden watered down grits, a piece of bread and a cup of black coffee, but I will not pray to god. Or do the pledge, either.  

I got a trailer.  It has a metal outer-casing and walls made of cardboard.  I have not had my own teaching space in eight years.  I was thrilled.  It was everything I wanted.  I ripped the old butcher paper off of the walls, knowing that there would be holes underneath.  I scrubbed the white board, though permanent marker never comes off. I dragged 1950s school furniture all over the place until the custodians got mad.  I put it all back because they have a harder job than I do. I scrubbed and scrubbed.  And then, a random county worker showed up and fixed the hole in the floor.  And a second man walked in, Vietnamese, saw me with my international students, and repaired all of the fucked up lights in the ceiling and put covers on them, so that none of the kids would be hit by falling tubes.

"My dad....isn't a criminal...." the sobbing child stammered, face red and covered in tears.  I looked at the T.V. and wondered for a minute why Maria was on it, then realized the terrorized girl wasn't my student.  

I was pretty jazzed about the trailer and put a picture of it up online.  A girl I've known, for really a lot of my life, responded to my picture of the trailer:  That looks like my elementary school.

Back in the way back days, the 80s, every middle class parent locked up their kids into "rehabs" if they were struggling.  It happened to my sister.  My first boyfriend, when I was in tenth grade, had gone through more than one.  And this nice lady, the girl that I've known, that is the same age as I am, was put in one of those "rehabs" when she was twelve.  It's a long story.  It's going to take me a minute to explain it to you, Kitty.  

And, she recognized the beat up trailer.  It must be at least forty years old.  And she was snatched from there soon after.  A child. 

I am struggling with my work load.  I sat in the kindergarten classroom, watching a boy who is not on my caseload.  His hair was tied up tight, and he pulled up his alphabet strip and bit it.  He looked like the Grinch.  

I cleaned the trailer.  I store snacks in there, because I am sort of trying to work on myself.  I put them in a plastic box, fearing rats. 

"You're in the trailer now?"  a co-worker asked me.

"Yaaas.  It the bomb."  I responded.

'What do ya think about snakes?'

I stopped.  What the fuck are you talking about?  Our principal took the stage.  There is a creek behind the trailers.  We have snakes.

"So I  ran behind the whole place and put snake be gone all over, but,  be careful!"

I can't do this.  

I tip toed through the Cafetorium, trying not to fuck up the custodians' work.  I saw my main man, Carl.  

"Gosh, this it the calm before the storm," I mentioned in passing.

"You just gotta learn to dance in the rain."  he responded,

And I will.  I will.  I will.  I will.