Stephlton and School Part 2

I wasn't going to continue this, because it was beginning to seem like a really dumb idea...but I am being encouraged to continue (Oh God...M...please breathe.) so, resuming where I left off.

She doesn't cry or yell. She just sits there for a while and watches me warily. And then she gets up and, after some consideration, pokes me in the arm. Slowly. Carefully. Waiting for another, from her perspective, completely insane reaction. I'm not sure what to do, so I just stand there. Rub at where she poked me. She seems content and grabs my hand...hauls me off to some animal shaped sea-saws (see-saws??), gets on one end, and stares at me. I stand there...unsure of this contraption. I don't get out much. Don't interact with many children or toys that are not in my room or the toy isle of walmart. She breaks the building tension. "Sit down." I immediately sink to the ground and she giggles. "You're silly", she says while grabbing my hand to help me up."I know", I say quickly, "I'm also Willy. My grandma says that all the time. Silly Willy. It's a rhyme." She stares for a moment before she makes me sit on one end of the sea-saw and plops herself down on the other. Sea-sawing ensues. Initially I shriek...with joy. This is new and amazing. I live for shit like that (not that I know that at this point).

After a while, I get bored. This isn't enough. It makes me feel good...grounded. But not enough. There is a bigger one a short distance away. "This one is puny", I say as I get off (making her hit the ground in the process), "Let's get on the big one instead." We go over...get on. I may have been a bit rough. She is a very...calm child. I can be rather...energetic. Enthusiastic. Yeah, let's go with that. I'm pushing off the ground with way more force than is necessary and yelling "HIGHER!!!" while she screams "STOP IT! STOP IIIIIIT!". She's crying, and clearly upset, but I keep going because eventually she's going to realize how much fun this is...right? She has to. I mean, it's amazing.

She doesn't. She cries until she starts gagging. I recognize that sound all too well. I stop and stare at her...unsure what I am supposed to do at this point. I gingerly get off the sea-saw and back off. She continues to gag and wipe at her runny nose...breathe funny. An adult walks over. Says adult things to me in a not-so-pleased voice. I don't think I respond. She grabs me. Makes me face her. It's the same woman that my granddad spoke to earlier. I have an instant dislike of her. She says more adult things in an now angry tone that ends in "...now say you're sorry!". "I'm sorry", I reply while still watching the woman. "Don't tell ME you're sorry!", she says as she releases my arm.

I turn to the girl. "I'm. Sorry." The woman makes a face. "Tell her why you're sorry, and do it right." I try to stick my hands in my pockets. Realize that I have none. Strike two for the shorts. "I'm sorry that you're sad. I made you sad...sorry. Sorry sorry sorry." The woman makes a sound behind me that, honesty, I still don't have a word for. The girl says nothing. She's still making these weird gaspy sounds that come from crying a lot. Still wiping snot. Occasionally licking her philtrum...which makes me want to gag. I try not to watch but a sort of morbid curiosity keeps me looking. The woman eventually walks away in a huff. I try to wander off. "Where are you going?"

This catches me off guard. She's supposed to hate me or something now, right? I shrug. "Nowhere, I guess." She looks around. Thinking. "Let's go over there", she says. She pointing at an area with a mess of toys scattered all around. She walks in that direction and I follow, hanging back. She pick up various toys. "You like this?" I nod and take everything that she offers. Put things down and replace them with the next toy that she hands me. She stares. "Don't you know how to play with toys?" I laugh and she raises her eyebrows. "Yeah, I know how to play with toys. Everyone knows how to play with toys." She makes a face. "You keep putting everything on the floor!" I frown. "I don want them", I say as I wonder over to a plastic snare drum. I grab the sticks. Bang on it a few times to prove that I do, indeed, know how to play with toys. She seems satisfied and finds another instrument to play. A harmonica. "We're in a marching band!", she says with a huge grin. She spits in the harmonica. Makes noise. I bang loudly with no rhythm. Yell for good measure.

The woman comes back and chastises us for being too noisy. Which is odd because everyone else is running around and screaming. I look over at a few kids. Point. "They're loud." The woman tells me not to talk back and to use my inside voice. She walks away and I wait for her to get out of sight before I wander off to find a telephone. I want to go home.