What Happened to Him?

Part 1: The Nanny

Margaret had been interviewing nannies all day. No one seemed up to the task. The first two women were entirely too relaxed. The third showed promise, but felt corporal punishment was too severe. It seemed one day everyone woke up and decided children should be allowed to run wild. Not her Brahms. He would learn respect. After all, the Heelshires were a figure in the community. A model of English values for generations.

A fourth arrived at the door and certainly looked the part. Hair tied back, fitted black dress, and stockings. "Iris?" She nodded. "Please, come in."

They sat in the library off of the entryway. Margaret began, "We have some very specific rules for Brahms. We don't believe in raising him as a wild-ling as some other families have become accustomed. We read when he gets home, he studies music only after he's completed all of his school assignments, and only after music lessons are complete, is he allowed to play with his toys. If he doesn't follow his schedule he must be punished." Margaret paused for a moment to gauge her reaction then added for emphasis, "Childish antics are not to be tolerated."

"I understand completely. Too often children are allowed to do as they please rather than as they should." Margaret considered her for another moment and decided to show her the rest of the house.

Margaret pushed through a heavy wooden door to a young boy's bedroom. Everything was neatly arranged on shelves as if things were never taken down. On the floor was the boy. A toy truck sat in front of him and in his hand was a wheel and the piece that attached it to the rest of the truck - sharp, clearly forced off rather than fallen.

"Excuse us a moment." Margaret closed the door between herself and the young woman. A loud WHAP and then hurried whispers, "Why do you make me do this?" Iris stepped back from the door, a little surprised. The door opened and Margaret looked her in the eye as if to say, "Come in now."

The boy stood now, but the truck had been cleared away. His cheek was red. No tears though. He extended his hand, "Nice to meet you, miss." She extended her own and was surprised to see him smile.

"It seems Brahms likes you. At the end of the day it really is his choice and he can be...particular." Margaret turned her gaze from her son to Iris, "When can you start?"

She hesitated for a moment and replied, "As soon as you need me."

"Wonderful." Margaret made her way out of her son's room. As the new nanny crossed through the doorway she felt a sharp pain in her leg and looked down to see something had torn through her stockings and her calf was bleeding. Margaret noticed her looking down at the cut, "I'm so sorry. It must have been a nail peeking out from the door frame. I'll have fresh stockings for you to replace those when you arrive tomorrow."

"That's quite alright." Iris said and began to follow Margaret down the stairs. She looked back into Brahms's room and saw him standing at the door, with the wheel from the truck in hand.