Paint the Town

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Lizzie absolutely loved her job. She loved her classroom, and how the yellow and white walls bounced light to every corner of the room. She loved the lemony scent of the cleansed tables, her puzzle piece reading rug, and her desk, which sat in the middle of the room, privy to the chaos.

But most of all, she loved her kids; every nose picking one of them. Working with fifteen 4 year olds sounded like a nightmare to others, but to Lizzie, it was like a dream. The way her heart leaped each time one of her students realized they could read a word out of five letters was a feeling she found nowhere else. The job brought a new reward each and every day. It was fun and exciting but, she had to admit, she never thought it could be so dangerous.

"Michael! Michael Rosen, come here please," Lizzie called in her high pitched teacher voice.

She stood from her desk and smoothed out dandelion yellow blouse, releasing her red pen from her hand and tucking in her chair.

The blonde boy approached her with wide eyes and pouted lips, dragging his feet as he walked. He knew what he had done, but he only hoped that the softening of his features would elicit some form of mercy from the woman.

So Lizzie squatted down to meet his eye, then moved even lower to look up at him through her eyelashes. She reached to fix the collar of his blue plaid shirt, her knees shaking slightly as she struggled to keep balance in her turquoise Mary Janes.

"You know the rules Michael. Say it with me," she said, nodding her head to prompt him to start.

"We do not chase our classmates with scissors," he said, rolling his hazel eyes to the ceiling.

Lizzie smiled, holding out her hand to retrieve the tiny pair of scissors from the young boy. "Thank you," she said, curling her fingers around the metal and nudging Michael's shoulders, sending him back towards his friends. Despite the numerous signs around the classroom, the kids always insisted on running with scissors in their hands. Lizzie guessed that the mischief provided them with some kind of high. She huffed; she had gone seven months into the school year without a scissor accident, and she was determined to be the last Pre-K class standing. At least when her classroom aid—Christina— was in, they could take shifts looking out for scissor snatchers, but today, it was up to her to take them on one on one.

"Alright kiddies!" she said springing back up to her feet, fifteen tiny heads turning to face her. "Line up with Mrs. Adler for recess."

Almost immediately, the children sprang from their play and rushed to grab their coats before meeting Mrs. Adler, who was ready for them in the hallway. The woman counted the children as they lined up, gently tapping their heads.

Mrs. Adler was an older woman deep into her 70s and ready to retire. Well, actually she was already retired from teaching. Now she kept herself busy walking the kids to recess and making sure they didn't break any bones on the pavement.

Lizzie waved to her co-worker at the door and sat back at her desk, closing her eyes as the sound of the children's chatter faded away. As much as she enjoyed the company of her kids, she enjoyed the alone time during recess even more. No screaming, no crying— just her.

Finally. Peace.

"Miss Marks," a voice called from the doorway.

Lizzie shot up in attention as the source of the sharp voice entered, surveying the state of the room. "Principal Donaldson, how are you," Lizzie squeaked, fixing her hair over her shoulders and pulling down her skirt. It already fell to her knees, but she could never be too careful. She smiled nervously at her boss, willing her charm to shine through.