Up In Here

I walked behind the school toward my trailer.  It was dark.  I heard weird howling sounds, sounds that really didn't sound normal, in the woods.  The woods behind our trailers.  I paused.  Miss W. was out there, our head custodian.
"What the fuck is that?"  I whispered.
"I think it's the kids...." she answered.
The yelps and howls continued.
"It might be animals killing something...." she continued, in a suddenly hushed voice.
"Miss W., this is the part where both of us die in the horror movie.  I'm going to the trailer.  You should go inside."  I responded.

"You're gonna make me lose my mind!  Up in here!  Up in here!  Habiba's gonna make me lose my mind!"
"Up in here, up in here!"  the Center kids echoed.
"Ms. Wagner's gonna make me lose my mind!"
"Up in here! Up in here!" Habiba vocalized.
"Habiba gonna make me kiss my hand!"
"Up in here, up in here!"  we all laughed and sang.
"Bud, Not Buddy" had suddenly turned romantic, and even when I drove out of the apartments, I rolled down the window and tooted my car's horn, or Alec's car's horn, at Habiba and kissed my hand, while she kissed her own and ran, laughing.

"How was your break?"  I asked various students.
"We ate goat." Prem informed me.
"Really?  That's nice."  I continued, about to pontificate how goat is not a common American food choice but is well regarded throughout the rest of the world.
"My dad got it.  He slit its throat."
I love Prem.  He is one of the most interesting and spry kids I have taught in years.  I tried to distract myself from what they did. 
"I had a devil egg."  Robert informed us.  My big boy.  I had no idea what he was talking about.  And, he has been difficult, lately.
"Wait, you mean deviled eggs!"  I finally responded.
"I love those, I eat them for breakfast, right here in the trailer, every morning."
"It is the best thing I have ever eaten."  he responded.

"Things got crazy this morning"  Aazim informed me, at The Center, after school.
"Someone tore all the underwear out of the drawer, and the socks, too, and threw them all over our room."
"Wait, who did it, Mahja, Suleymann, Jabez?  Or the little boy I don't know yet?  Wait, or the girl baby?"
"No.  Mahja discovered it and started screaming, it wasn't him.  Suleymann was putting on cologne in the bathroom....Abdarahim was sleeping....the baby can't walk, Jabez, I don't know what he was doing...."
"So, um, that leaves you right, Aazim?  Did you tear the drawer apart, with all of the underwear?  or...Jabez?"
"I don't trust that Suleymann was putting on cologne in the bathroom, that really only takes a second."  Yami stated.
"I have to agree, Yami.  Suleymann, I think you are a suspect."
"No!  I was putting on deodorant!"  Suleymann replied, eyes wide.
"Now Suleymann, I am confused.  Is there a difference between deodorant and cologne?  Or are we just...you know spray spraying our underarms and necks and wrists with the same thing?"  I replied.
He looked perplexed.
"I believe we have two mysteries to solve now,"  I continued.
"Who threw the underwear and socks all over the Abduhalli household and whether deodorant and cologne are the same things.  I would like to table this discussion until our next meeting and would like to request that you pull out your copy of Smile and turn to the appropriate page."

"So the Kamikazes weren't regular soldiers...they went down with the plane....the used the plane as a weapon,"  the nicest teacher in our school instructed, because one of the meanest teachers in the school had to leave, unexpectedly, and he took over.
"Man, when I started teaching, down in Miami, we had a lot of kids coming in from El Salvador...." he continued.
I felt myself stiffen.
"Kids, thirteen, twelve, kinda hard kids.  They had been soldiers...."
Adriana's mom is from El Salvador.
I sat next to Nsimba and started trying to help her with her work.
"Ms. Wagner, you know that thing, that thing Mr. Walker was talking about?"  she asked.
"Yeah, the kids with guns...." I whispered back.
"They do that in Africa too....."
"Central African Republic is still in a war, isn't it?"
"Yeah....my brothers didn't want to come here....."  I never knew she had brothers.  All the girls are here.
"Are they safe?"
"Yes... they left...."
"To the Congo?"
"Yes, to the Congo..." she answered.

I walked into my daily lunch duty and made I high pitched squeak at a kid who likes to communicate with me in that way.  He squeaked back and smiled. 

"Do you want to dig in the box or wait in the classroom?"  I asked Prem while we stood outside of our push-in classroom.  There has been a large box of hundreds of dollars of discarded instructional items in the hall for months.
"Dig in the box...." he sang lowly, yet in a high pitched song.  He does it when we talk in secret.
We entered the room a few minutes later, hiding the things we had taken from the box.
"Come and get paper!"  the general ed. teacher screamed out at him.
"I already have paper." he sang to me, in his little high pitched song, without answering the teacher.    We got to work.

"So during the holiday party,"  the second meanest teacher in the school said, loudly.
"You should just take Alejandro to your trailer.  His family's religion doesn't allow holiday celebrations so you two should just go there."
"Okay."  I answered immediately.  We'll go to the fucking woodshed.
I have four other students in that class.  Their parents might be there.  It will be fun, there'll be snacks.  And she will smile and wave and pretend like she's actually nice and does this whole operation by herself while I am in the woodshed.

It's fine.  I'll invite his brothers.  The woodshed is the place to be, anyway.