The Baby Flame
Mrs. Clark double checked her schedule. "Oh good!" she thought. "Only one little 5-year old today!" She listened to screams. She looked outside. A little boy with dark brown hair, a red shirt, cargo pants, and goggles was struggling with his mom.
"No!" Tyler screamed.
"Tyler Jack Beanstein, you are going to this daycare whether you like it or not! Mrs. Beanstein commanded.
"Fine, but I won't promise it's gonna be standin' when ya get back! Mrs. Beanstein sighed. She scribbled on a post-it, "Tyler is a bit of a pyromaniac,"
"Just promise me you'll give this to your teacher,"
"'Kay!" Tyler gave her an evil grin.
Was she serious, Beanstein? Jack Beanstalk. Mrs. Clark giggled. A few minutes later, she was rolling with laughter. The doorbell rang. She took a deep breath. She went to the door. Mrs. Clark stared on in horror. Tyler was holding up a lighter. Mrs. Clark knew that if she tried to take it away, he would throw it on the grass and the grass would go up in flames. "Hello Tyler!" she tried to sound cheerful, even though she was scared out of her wits.
"Hey Mrs. C," Tyler chimed.
Mrs. Clark grimaced. "Follow me," she droned. She took him to a colorful room filled with paper and crayons. "You should begin coloring," she instructed.
"Nah!"
Why the effrontery! "Gah! Go outside and play! Tyler ran outside. The phone rang. Mrs. Clark picked up.
"Hello Madam, do you want to make a will-
"Go away!" Mrs. Clark said grouchily and slammed down the phone.
There was the sound of an explosion.
"What happened?" Mrs. Clark shrieked when she saw empty sand.
Where there was once a pink, plastic jungle gym was now a patch of empty sand. Scattered all over the sandbox were pink pipes. She winced as though she had pricked her self with a needle. "Dunno!" Tyler began to grin widely. Mrs. Clark gave him a small, nervous smile.
"Why don't you go to the soccer field, Tyler? I'll try to clean up."
"Sure!" shouted Tyler.
As the little boy ran over to the lawn, Mrs. Clark bent down to pick up a pipe. The second explosion of the day came. Mrs. Clark jerked her head sharply. The lawn had burst into flame. Tyler was sitting at the edge, laughing. "Run into the daycare, Tyler."
Mrs. Clark ran to the building, she picked up a barrel. In large, industrial type, it said "Water". On a piece of tape it said "Gasoline" She didn't notice the tape though and ran over to the fire. She poured out the liquid. Then, she noticed the tape. "Uh-oh!"
Tyler heard a loud explosion. A few minutes later, a very charred woman limped in. "Hi Mrs. C!" Mrs. Clark fainted. Tyler didn't notice. "Oh, Mrs. C, I was supposed to give you this!" Tyler dropped the note into Mrs. Clark's hand. She pulled her head up and read "Tyler is a bit of a pyromaniac,"
"Great, now she tells me!" moaned Mrs. Clark.
"One more day. That's all. But, with HIM!" muttered Mrs. Clark. She walked around the daycare one more time to make sure that all of the flammable materials were removed and replaced with flame retardant metal. "There is no danger this time." she told herself. She took one last "cleansing" breath as the door bell rang. Tyler sat there weeping. "What's wrong?" asked Mrs. Clark.
Tyler replied between sobs, "Mommy told me that I'm not allowed to have time-outs." Tyler looked at the woman with an evil smile. Mrs. Clark knew this could not be true. She figured it was something like "No more flames!" However, Mrs. Clark instead said, "You can still have timeouts, don't worry!"
Frowning, Tyler said, " But mommy said!"
"Who cares what mommy says?" Mrs. Clark yelled in an overexcited way. Mrs. Clark regretted the moment the words came out of her mouth. She had been too general.
Tyler whooped, "Yes! You said what! That means even though Mom said I can't use my lighter anymore, I can at the daycare! Yay!"
Mrs. Clark groaned at the devious little boy. He had outwitted her. She then saw a glimpse of what this was to Tyler. It was obvious that Tyler was seeing this as a chance to make an adult look bad. Mrs. Clark glanced at boy. He had the cat that ate the canary look. " Let's start with coloring Tyler!" she said cheerfully. She then remembered the impudence the child had the previous day.
To her shock, Tyler said, "I love coloring!" Mrs. Clark led him to the metal room with crayons and a huge roll of paper. Tyler immediately sat down and began coloring.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Clark asked him what the black figure on his paper was, Tyler replied, "It's you, Mrs. Clark!"
She then realized that it was her after the gas explosion. Her eyes widened. Then, she opened her mouth as though she was going to say something. She then fainted. She woke up and saw Tyler poking her cheek with a stick. She stared at the clock. It was 10 minutes before Tyler's mom would pick him up! Mrs. Clark stood up and heard a crunch! The lighter. She stepped on it. Her foot began to burn. "Gahhhhhh!" She continued to stomp out the fire and scream. She ran to the bathroom.
Tyler heard sounds of splashing and flushing. He laughed. The door rang. He went to get it.
"Hi sweetie!" Mrs. Beanstein said. "Where is your teacher?" she asked.
"She's uh pooping," Tyler said nervously.
"Oh! Let's go darling!" Mrs. Beanstein yanked the collar of Tyler and ran out the door.
The next day, Mrs. Clark was wearing an army helmet. She had an extra large fire extinguisher. She thought she was ready. (She was not ready, if she was, she would have locked her car.) She heard the screeching of tires. Ten, nine, eight. The struggles of Tyler. Seven, six, five, four. The sound of footsteps. Three, two, one. The doorbell rang.
What, the screeching of more tires, were there extra children? There were, but the moment she opened the door, Tyler zoomed inside in a red children's car, and a fat boy, with red hair wearing a blue sweat suit held a light saber in hand said, "Hi, I'm Jason, what's your name?"
"I'm Mrs. Clark." She tried to tell him. Jason just kept talking. A few minutes later, his words sounded like mush, and the continuous buzz of a fly near your ear.
Seeing the army helmet and the fire extinguisher, Tyler commented, "Don't worry, Mom searched me!" (She had not) This made her feel safe though, so she took off the helmet.
"Let's start with some writing-" began Mrs. Clark
Instantly torrents of questions were fired at her. "What's writing? I don't know how to write, show me,"
"Never mind. We can start with free time, BUT (at this she raised an eyebrow at Tyler) no going outside!"
Tyler beamed.
"I'm watching these two like a hawk." She thought.
Tyler and Jason noticed. "Hey, stop staring at us! Yeah, mind your own beeswax!" they squawked. Then, Mrs. Clark made the mistake of going to the sink to have a drink. The sound of bursting tires came. Mrs. Clark sighed and said, "I don't get paid enough for this!" She turned her head slowly, all the while thinking of the worst case scenario. There were knives in the two front tires. How the boys found them, she never knew.
"Story time!" she cried excitedly.
"Okie-dokie!" They chorused.
Mrs. Clark crossed to the blue chair and began reading The Ugly Duckling.
Tyler said, "Is that like dumpling, because even if dumplings are ugly, they still taste good!"
"No you dope, it's duckling, like a baby duck," retorted Jason, and with that, he hit Tyler over the head.
"Hey, you can't hit me over the head!"
"Yeah I can!"
"No you can't!"
Mrs. Clark stepped in, but the two boys bopped her over the head until she fainted.
"Hey, Tyler, how much bad stuff have you done?" Jason queried.
"I dunno, maybe 1,000 bad things." he said casually.
"Great! I've gots an idea!" Jason said and he told Tyler his plan.
Tyler stood on Jason's shoulders and got the keys, then they ran outside to Mrs. Clark's bright blue van. Tyler stood in the driver's seat and Jason sat next to him. Then Tyler stuck the keys into the hole and drove, surprisingly well, onto the freeway, but then he crashed! Coincidentally, he crashed into his mom's car and was flung with Jason into the back seat.
"Oh hi boys, I was going to pick you up! Did you have a good time?"
The boys turned their heads to look at each other. Then they said, "Yeah mom! The best!