The P.A. crackled to life and a bored-sounding voice said, "Miss Turner, you have a phone call." Miss Turner looked up from the papers on her desk and out at her students. Sam dropped his eyes back down to his spelling worksheet. They had a spelling test every Friday and while he thought the words were baby words, some of the other students in Miss Turner's first grade class had trouble. He picked up his pencil to start filling in the blank on number two, when he heard his name called. He looked back up again to see Miss Turner looking at him and beckoning him over. Hoping that he wasn't in trouble for not working, he got up and walked to her desk.
"I have to go down to the office and take this call," she explained quietly. "Can you be in charge of the class?" Sam nodded, glad he wasn't in trouble, and she smiled brightly at him. "Good." She stood up. "Class, I'm going to the leave the room for a few minutes. I want you to behave while I'm gone."
Everyone looked up and nodded, a few "Yes, Miss Turner"s sprinkled through the room.
Miss Turner looked down at Sam. "Remember, Mr. Bulansky is right next door if you need anything, okay Sam?"
"Okay, Miss Turner."
She gave him one last smile before walking out the door, leaving it open. He could see her stopping at Mr. Bulansky's door and popping her head in, probably telling him to keep an ear out. Sam stood up straight next to the teacher's desk, gaze settling over the class.
Everything was fine for two minutes, then Sam heard an "Owwwieeee!" from the right side of the classroom, followed by the sounds of someone crying. He turned and looked at the door, thinking if he should run for Mr. Bulansky's room, but decided that he should find out what happened before calling it an emergency.
He crossed over to where he saw Deanna sitting, big tears falling from her eyes and her right pointer finger cradled in her lap. "Deanna, what's wrong?" She picked up her finger and showed it to him.
"I cut it," she stated bluntly, lower lip trembling and tears still falling. "See?"
He did see. "How?"
She looked down at the worksheet on her table. "Stupid paper," she said, glaring at it like that could set in on fire.
The boy across the table gasped. "That's a bad word! You can't say that!"
Sam ignored him. He heard much worse from his dad sometimes on the nights he came home late and thought Sam was sleeping. Instead, Sam looked at Deanna for a few seconds and said, "Hold on."
Sam walked back over to Miss Turner's desk and grabbed a tissue and a big piece of tape. They weren't supposed to take things without asking but this was important. He went back over to Deanna's table and stuck the tape to the edge, then started tearing off a strip of tissue. He wrapped it around Deanna's finger while she watched, eyes glistening, then secured it with the tape.
This was something else he learned from Dad while he was supposed to be sleeping.
He looked back at Deanna and said, "All better."
"Nuh-uh!" she cried. "Mommy always kisses it to make it better!"
Sam really didn't want to, because he could get cooties, and then Dean would find out and make fun of him. But he really wanted Deanna to stop crying, so he planted a kiss on her bandaged finger and said, "Now is it all better?"
The tears slowed down and she whined, "Uh-huh," with a little nod.
"Good." Sam grinned at her and she gave a tiny smile back. He stood up and went back to Miss Turner's desk, throwing the rest of the tissue away as the as the teacher walked back in the door.
She settled herself back behind the desk, turning to Sam and asking, "Did everyone behave?"
"Yes, ma'am," Sam answered shyly.
"Good." She grabbed a sheet of stickers and peeled one off, sticking it to his hand. "Why don't you get back to work?"
"Okay," Sam said, and headed back to his desk. He couldn't wait till the end of the day when he would be able to run up to Dean and get a high-five for his "Awesome!" sticker.
