Page 22 of John Wilder Gets Schooled
Then I looked out over the sea of faces gathered on the mat and tried to figure out if there was a good way to break sixteen tiny hearts with a single sentence. Okay, maybe I was being dramatic, but I wasn’t looking forward to delivering the news that today’s excursion was canceled.
We were meant to be going to the Goose Run Animal Adventurama—a fancy name for the petting zoo that Bobby Merritt, who was apparently the mayor, ran. But without Carol-Ann’s mom helping, we were an adult short, and the rules for leaving the grounds were clear. Unless I could find someone to fill in, we wouldn’t be going anywhere.
I ran my hand through my hair again, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.
“Everything okay?” a soft voice said, right in my ear.
I jolted and opened my eyes to find Wilder standing next to me, his brow creased with concern.
“It’s… there’s a problem with the outing,” I said.
“Did that fu-flipping goose get out again?” he asked. “Because honestly, you’ll probably have a better time if it isn’t there.”
“No, it’s not—” I took another deep breath and reminded myself that this wasn’t the end of the world. I might as well get it over with. Rip off the Band-Aid, so to speak. I clapped my hands once and the effect was immediate, with the class turning to face me expectantly.
Here went nothing.
“I have some bad news. We won’t be able to go to the petting zoo today,” I said.
An audible gasp ran through the room.
“One of my parent helpers can’t come, and the rules say we need another adult.”
There was a stony silence, and then someone started to cry—a lone hitching sob, cutting through the quiet and stabbing me in the heart.
Okay, now I really was being dramatic.
A second sob, and that one hurt more than the first one. A glance at the class showed me a few more wobbling lips, and I tried desperately to salvage the situation. “What if I find someone for next week and we go then?”
“But we’re supposed to go today!” Gracie said loudly, folding her arms and jutting her chin out.
“I know, but we need an extra person,” I explained.
Her brow creased for a moment, and then her expression brightened. “Daddy! You can come and be a helper!”
Beside me, Wilder froze like a deer in the headlights. So did I. John Wilder was the last person I wanted coming on this trip. Even though we were only walking two streets over, I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t get lost on the way. But of course I couldn’t exactly say that. So instead I said, “Doesn’t your daddy have to go to work today?”
Gracie shook her head excitedly. “No, he has some days off, so he can come to the petting zoo!” She turned wide blue eyes on Wilder. “Please, Daddy? I heard there’s athree-legged dog!” She said it like it was the most miraculous thing ever to exist, and I had to hand it to her, Gracie was pretty persuasive.
Hell, nowIwanted to see the three-legged dog.
And Wilder was apparently just as easily persuaded as I was, because he shrugged and said, “I guess I could help. If there’s nobody else.”
We both looked around hoping that another parent would materialize out of thin air, but no. Wilder, being late as usual, was the only one still in the vicinity.
I was caught between resignation and surprise that he’d stepped up. And okay, I was almost certain he’d be more of a liability than a help, but a tiny, petty part of me also wanted to seehow Wilder would cope with an entire class of five-year-olds for the morning, so I plastered on a smile and said, “Great! Let me just clear it with the principal and we can get going.”
I ducked out of the classroom and hurried to the office and poked my head into Mrs. Freeman’s office. “Hey,” I said, “quick question. Sherri Walters can’t come on the excursion today. Is it okay if John Wilder stands in as class helper?”
She looked at me over the top of her glasses. “I don’t see why not, if it means your class gets to experience the wonder of Bobby’s Animal Adventurama.”
I nodded. “Thanks.” I couldn’t help but add, “Wish me luck. My class helper seems like he’ll be more of a handful than the kids.”
Mrs. Freeman raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be too quick to judge John Wilder, Avery. He might surprise you.”
I nodded and resisted the urge to ask what she meant by that. This was a small town. Whatever it was, someone would fill me in eventually whether I wanted to know or not. Meanwhile, I’d just left sixteen kids under the supervision of a stripper, so I needed to get back to my classroom.
The sight that greeted me stopped me in my tracks. I’d expected Wilder to be standing aimlessly where I’d left him, but instead he was sitting in one of the plastic chairs, reading a story to a rapt audience, who were all staring at him with obvious delight. And no wonder. He wasn’t just reading—he was doing all the voices.
