Elsewhere Part 3
Chapter 28: Snow as Ice
A/N: Warning mature subject matter incorporated into the chapter
"Can anyone tell me the answer?" Miss Blanchard asks her students as she stands in front of her class at Stygian Elementary School. She's trying to teach them a lesson on ecosystems, particularly different types of birds and where they build their nests.
However, like every day she gets no eager answers or even any attempts to respond. Most of her students are falling asleep, texting on their phones, or even just doodling in their notebooks. No one wants to answer and why would they want to; no child had a legitimate future outside of the city anyways. Many of the children would merely end up working in fast food restaurants, casinos, or unfortunately even on the streets. All skills that they would not learn from sitting in a classroom. Even children as young as Grade One knew there was no point in trying to learn because the knowledge would get them nowhere, despite how fun Miss Blanchard tried to make it for them. The only reason they even showed up to school was that it is required by law and the parents needed someplace to dump their children to work their many jobs to stay afloat in this unpredictable economy. And unfortunately, due to budget cuts and two teachers being under investigation for drug abuse, Mary Margret Blanchard is stuck with a Fourth, Second, and Eighth Grade classes to teach. It was almost like working in one-room schoolhouse of the past, trying to educate multiple levels of students, but what seemed to be the point when it wasn't worth trying.
One fourth grade girl lazily blows a bubble with her gum, despite the teacher's "no gum policy," a couple of eighth grade boys are throwing wads of paper and old cafeteria food at each other, and a few second graders have their heads down on the desks, not even trying to hide the fact that they were tired.
"Well…" the teacher sighs. "If you must know bluebirds face competition with invading sparrows and starlings for nesting spaces, often leaving these poor creatures without homes…"
"And that's why you built the birdhouses, we know that already," one eighth grade girl calls out rudely, visibly rolling her eyes.
Mary Margret opens her mouth to scold the teenager, but then the bell rings. The students frantically gather their books and belongings before going out for recess.
"Now I want you all to bring in your science textbooks when you come back in!" she shouts frantically as the children hurry out of the room without a second glance at their teacher.
Once all of them are gone, Mary Margret collapses into her desk chair, completely and utterly exhausted and that was only the first period of the day.
She runs her hands through her short, raven-coloured hair, which amazes her that it hasn't turned gray with stress, biting her lip, and trying to fight back the tears. Her body cannot take much more of this. Working curriculums for three separate classes, plus running the school science fair and her night job since this one can't pay the bills. It didn't help that her classroom was very badly run down and disorganized; desks that were health hazards and a risk of falling apart, pieces of wood being used on a broken window to keep the cold from entering, filthy floors which likely had rats scurrying along them, chairs that were either too small or big for the various students, and all of them being squished into the tiny room without much space to do anything. She wonders how she's been able to carry on this long in such a toxic environment. If the world wasn't so cruel, she'd be at home with her son, on maternity leave and not having all this excess dumped on her because she wouldn't say no… or couldn't. It felt as though she had some sort of wicked spell cast over her, being unable to stand up for herself, being pushed around by the other teachers and especially the mayor, who would like Mary Margret to help with secretarial duties at the office as well.
The pale teacher wipes away her tears, then slowly reaches into her desk and pulls out her medication. Something that helps with her anxiety and another that keeps her focused. She swallows the Adderall and Xanax with a swish of her tea… which should have been coffee to keep herself awake. She then goes to work on grading a few papers, but her hand shakes because of the mixture of pills. It was a new concoction she'd been forced to take after a recommendation by the principal and Fiona Blackwell after seeing the teacher nearly collapse in the staff parking lot. Fiona had been in the school to discuss budgets with the principal when they both saw the poor woman fall with supplies in her hands and watched her breakdown in stressed tears at their feet. They had her sent to the hospital immediately and the doctor gave her two kinds of drugs, one to calm her and one to keep her focused. However, this toxic mixture was merely doing wear and tear on her already fragile body and she was losing weight, which wouldn't be a bad thing at her night job.
Eventually, the bell rings, bringing the students back inside. Mary Margret stands, leaning against the desk, watching as only a handful of children actually listened to her request to bring in their science textbooks. Sighing heavily, she goes to her supply closet and brings out the extra science volumes.
"Some of you will have to share," she dryly, dropping them on desks and then shifting past a pile of books since she had no bookshelf to get to the chalkboard and begin writing down the science lesson as what she'd been talking about with birds was supposed to be a review and then move on to the next section. Of course, the laziness of her students dragged this out and she was forced to watch their tired, uninterested eyes stare up at her without emotion or interest.
She goes to the chalkboard and begins to write down key points from the text. She's in the middle of a single word when the floor beneath her feet shakes frantically. Desks and chairs move significant distances across space, papers go flying from the teacher's desk, books fall to the floor, debris from the ceiling sprinkles down on the class, and a few rats go scurrying for cover. A blast of energy enters Mary Margret's body causing her to drop the chalk and nearly collapse right in front of her class.
Suddenly, the depression and haze of medications are gone, and her mind feels almost relaxed, releasing an almost permanent knot in her stomach. Images begin to flash in her mind; the strangest pictures that really make little sense; Mary Margret having a beautiful tiara placed on her head by a gentle looking woman, weeping next to the sight of a woman dressed in extravagant clothing, her face pale with death; her nearly being thrown from a horse, but then being saved by a gentle woman. Suddenly, the image of this kind woman becomes dark and malicious, mourning the loss of an older man, many days spent in the forest, her face on wanted posters, running away from men dressed in black, being tackled by an unknown, handsome man and hitting him with a rock. Her being hoisted up in a net and being forced to talk to her captor, trying on a diamond ring that she'd stolen, spending time in hiding with seven unusually short men, a time when everything was a blank due to how hurt she was. Her being forced to eat an apple and falling into darkness, only to be awakened by the man's handsome face. The two hand-in-hand in a beautiful church, dressed in fancy clothing, only for the wicked woman to interrupt their bliss and swear revenge. A great many battles, holding an oddly shaped boulder that hatched and revealed a human hand, visiting a man who looked like a snake, and the unimaginable pain she went through to deliver a beautiful baby. Unfortunately, as quickly as she, Mary Margret knew the baby was a girl, was brought into the world, she was taken away, leaving Mary Margret with unimaginable heartbreak and holding the man she loved as dark clouds consumed them.
The teacher pants heavily as the images continue to flow through her mind; being put in jail, jumping through a portal to save a blonde woman, using a candle over someone's heart, crushing another heart to bring the dark clouds back and giving birth to another baby before that one was taken to. Watching the blonde woman be swept up in darkness and then fighting the same malicious woman to save the town she loved, at the cost of being separated from her true love.
As quickly as it had come, the images are gone, and the haze of depression and anxiety returns, hitting her fragile body like a ton of bricks. Mary Margret grabs the ledge of the chalkboard, trying to gather her thoughts. She's leaning on it so intensely, she would likely break it off. Her head felt like it was spinning, and her stomach turned many times to the point where she wants to vomit. Her eyes can't focus properly, and she can feel tears burning in her eyes as emotions sweep over her body like a wave on the seashore. These images meant something, they are very familiar and while not all of the pictures were happy ones, they still felt important.
"Miss Blanchard are you okay?" a voice of concern asks.
The teacher looks out at her class, her hazel eyes surveying all the distressed looking faces. Several of the younger students look frightened by this strange occurrence and only one of the teenagers is willing to show worry for their teacher.
"I'm… fine, just… a little light-headed," she lies, still trying to fight the tears threatening to fill her eyes.
"What was that?' one of the eighth graders asked.
"I…I don't really know, but the logical explanation is that is was an earthquake," the teacher says, trying to think logically even though the past few minutes have been anything but logical.
"Earthquakes in Maine?" a fourth-grade boy says skeptically.
"Stranger things have happened, now, where were we?"
Despite how dizzy and shaken she feels, Mary Margret must push forward and teach her students, considering it was part of her job.
…
The bell rings, signalling the end of class for the day. "I want all of you to read a chapter from your individually chosen book and write down ideas of what you know about the migration of birds and mammals!" she calls out as all the children exit without even a goodbye to their teacher.
Miss Blanchard shuts the door to her classroom and locks it. She then sits down at her desk again and tries to process what had happened in the morning. It was the most bizarre thing she'd ever encountered; it had brought on hallucinations, but they weren't scary, and they almost felt familiar, despite the fantastical elements woven into them. It was like they told a story, a story that involved a handsome man and two babies…
Speaking of babies… she thinks to herself.
With shaking fingers, the teacher dials a number she was very familiar with. She waits several moments until someone picks up.
"Hello?"
"Hello there, this is Mary Margret Blanchard and I was wondering if my son Neal has had a progress in being adopted?"
The voice on the other end sounds annoyed. The sounds of children can be heard in the background, many of them crying. The noise breaks the teacher's heart and she prays that her son is not one of those sad little children.
She's already crying because of how much she missed her little boy, despite how little time she spent with him. She remembers being in labour for so many hours, alone on a gurney in the hospital hallway with nobody paying attention to her. It finally took her screams of agony of being almost 10 centimetres dilated and nearly ready to give birth that someone finally went to get a doctor and she prayed an epidural (which was not possible at this late stage). She can remember hearing his screams for the first time and holding him wrapped in a blanket did she realize the most agonizing truth, even more, painful than giving birth, she would have to give him up for adoption. There just wasn't any way she could keep him, despite how hard she fought. She moved to a building that accepted tenant's children, she tried saving all her money, almost going hungry some nights in order to pay for baby supplies and looking for ways to go on maternity leave at her night job. However, in the end, it was all in vain, Mary Margret knew that the only way her little prince was ever going to have the best chance in life was for her to give him up. She spent the entire night crying while holding him; it was only after she'd fallen asleep from pure exhaustion did the state remove Neal Blanchard from his mother's custody.
The teacher knew where her son was being cared for and she'd call as often as she could to ensure he was okay and asked for any progress on possible adoptions into families. She had been told that babies are often the easiest to get adopted, but sadly for the past few months, no one wanted to welcome little Neal into their family because his mother couldn't.
"I'm sorry to tell you Miss Blanchard, but there have not been any interested parents."
"But you said babies are easiest to adopt out?!" she says, doing very little to hide the sadness in her voice.
"They are but these are hard times and most people can't afford another mouth to feed. We give them to whoever can afford it."
"But you know they're from good homes, right? You check?"
"This is a closed matter, Miss Blanchard, it's the agency's job to screen clients and unfortunately you do not have legal right to decide to his legal guardians."
The comment was a stab in the gut for the wounded mother.
"But…"
"I think it is best that you stop calling here Miss Blanchard, as a closed adoption, you do not and can not have any say legally over his well-being."
"But I…"
"I'm sorry, I have another call coming through. Take care of yourself, Miss."
Then the line goes dead.
The mother bursts into uncontrollable sobs, burying her face in her desk. Her heart feels like it's being stomped into a million pieces and her entire body aches with unimaginable pain. The pain of being helpless to even care for your own child or ensure his safety and acceptance to a good home. She couldn't care for him, her life was such a mess that he'd surely be in a worse place with her than what he has now. At least he's being fed and given the proper attention to grow. However, this doesn't lessen the pain at all and leaves the teacher to cry in the dim, cold room.
…
Eventually, after looking at the time, Mary Margret stands up from her chair and gathers her things. She needs to get to her night job or her boss will throw a fit. She hurries out to her car and drives towards the downtown area. She parks in a back alley and goes through the back door of the establishment.
She rushes to get ready, nearly putting her short skirt on backwards. She then goes to the makeup table, smears blue eyeshadow over her lids, puts on blue lipstick and fills her hair with glitter. She then wraps herself in a white shawl and goes to join the rest of the dancers as the emcee introduces each of the girls.
"And don't give the cold shoulder to our next lady. She's as cold as ice, but you can warm her up if you give her the chance, please welcome Icey to the stage."
Mary Margret sucks in a very deep breath and goes out to begin her routine and shame herself to the cold, cruel world she's been born into.
