The Prodigies [First Draft]

Three

  Hiding four books under your shirt and the waistline of your jeans isn't as easy as it sounds. It's especially irritating to know you could put the books in your backpack if it hadn't been mass produced to hold skinny picture books like the ones sitting in the K1 classroom. However, Kenny made the difficult task look effortless as she placed the books in positions that made them unnoticeable. She did appear to be a bit chunky, but if she walked with a slight limp and made up an excuse for the imaginary injury, Ms. Greenwood wouldn't notice. She never had before.

Kenny hobbled up the brick steps and rang the doorbell. The books shifted a bit, but they were still in place. She could hear the heavy steps of an irritated Ms. Greenwood nearing the door. It wasn't long before the dark, wooden pane was ripped open.

"Where have you been?" the woman snapped as she took a phone from her ear. She looked over Kenny disdainfully, and the young girl fidgeted uncomfortably under her glare.

Ms. Greenwood was not a very pretty woman. Her nose was incredibly large, and her eye right eye was slightly bigger than her left. The only thing Kenny really liked about her was her neon blue hair which made her facial asymmetry hard to focus on. Even now, as Kenny looked up at the young woman, her eyes kept glancing up to the blue mane on top of her head.

"Eh? Not going to talk today, either, huh?" Ms. Greenwood asked upon seeing that Kenny made no move to answer her. Kenny would have shaken her head, but the woman rolled her eyes, signaling that she already knew the answer.

The young girl itched to go inside and put her books away underneath her bed. She had no doubt that Ms. Greenwood had saved chores for her to do, and she wanted to get started on those as soon as possible. She took out a pile of index cards from one of her back pockets and searched through them until she found the one she was looking for.

I've got a lot of homework to do.

Ms. Greenwood laughed at this, but it was a harsh laugh that had no amusement. "Yeah right. You're in what, Pre-K?"

Kenny went back down to her cards to correct the woman, but Ms. Greenwood yanked the stack away from her. She looked up at her guardian, bewildered, and didn't dare take out any more cards.

"No more of these silly index cards. Talk to me. With your voice. Come on!"

Kenny kept her mouth shut and looked away from Ms. Greenwood. She clenched her little hands into fists when she realized the woman was smiling. Still looking away, she took a step towards the house, but Ms. Greenwood stepped to the side, blocking the only open entrance.

"No! I'm not going to let you into the house until you say something. Go on, speak!" the woman urged. "If those expensive therapy sessions didn't do anything, maybe--"

At that exact moment, as if Kenny's prayers were answered, a loud thump came from somewhere inside the house. Ms. Greenwood's head snapped toward the noise, and the young girl's heart stopped pounding so hard in her chest.

"What was that?" Ms. Greenwood shouted.

A boy of maybe ten years of age rushed down the stairs. "Oh, I just fell again. I'm sorry if I worried you, Miss."

Ms. Greenwood stiffened. "That's Missus to you." She raised her cell phone back to her ear and walked away from the door, allowing Kenny inside. The young girl let out a shaky breath.

"She's married?" the boy asked Kenny once Ms. Greenwood was out of hearing range.

"No," Kenny replied, her first words since morning, "and she hates being reminded of that. Just say Ms. rather than miss. It sounds more like you're at least trying to say missus."