AN: Incidentally, I'm up to Near over on the Wammy Letter Banners on dA.
38. Shoes
Another morning, another breakfast, another day of topsy-turvy carnival pandemonium.
When Moira first came to live and work as an aide at the House, she didn't think she'd ever acclimate to the noise or the kids' heartbreaking problems and ingenious pranks. After one chaotic week, she came this close to saying forget it, maybe it wasn't so awful being on her own. Sure, her psychotic abusive stalker ex-boyfriend was still out there somewhere, and he'd found her everywhere else she tried to hide, and would probably try to kill her again if he caught up with her. But she could just try harder. The fake identity that Mr. W set up for her would tide her over for a while at least. She's smart enough that she could probably learn Chinese in two months. She'd go live in some remote mountain village. Farming couldn't be that bad, could it? True, she didn't get a Master's degree in child psychology just so she could hoe cabbages, but she didn't exactly plan on using it to corral wild geniuses either.
She'd been convinced to stay, though, and it's actually a pretty good deal. She can still do research, she actually learns a lot more from her fellow aides and from the kids themselves than she thought she would, and now simultaneously filling Una's cup with milk and prying the butter dish away from Paran so that Qarri can butter her toast and telling Rom and Over that she's going to make sure they eat all of the sausage pieces they're throwing at each other even if they do fall on the floor is simply second nature. It's also second nature that in the midst of this scene of confusion, she notices there's a head missing from its usual place at the table she's monitoring.
"Where's Vince?" Moira asks the table as she puts the lid back on the milk. "Here you go, Qarri. Una, what do we say?"
"T'ank oo," Una whispers, mortified at being directly addressed and hunching behind her milk glass.
"Thanks, Moira," says Q loudly, throwing a dirty look at Paran as she accepts the butter dish, and he sticks his tongue out at her. "Dunno, haven't seen Mr. Sunshine today yet."
"Maybe he fell inna pond," Over suggests, even more loudly.
"Maybe the pond monsta eated him!" Rom agrees enthusiastically.
"Don't be stupid, there no monster in the pond. That just a blakabaka story Gao make up to scare little kids," Qarri says scornfully.
"Maybe pond monsta gonna eat you next for sayin' he not real!" Rom lunges at her with a large toothy grin and a roar.
"Moira, make him stop being dumb!"
"There's no need for name-calling, Qarri. Rom, why don't you chew on your food instead of Q's arm," Moira says patiently, pulling Rom upright and putting his fork in his hand. "Paran, did Vince get up this morning?"
P shrugs sullenly. "Dunno."
"Well I'll go check then. Jeremy! Can you watch my table for a second?"
"Mello, if you don't stop poking Near I'm going to have Linda come sit between you two. What's that, Moira?" The aide at the next table over turns, looking a little harried.
"What? That's not fair!" Linda wails, as Moira repeats, "Can you take my table for a sec? I'm gonna go check on V."
"I saw that, Near. You behave too. Uh, sure, but come back soon, 'k?"
"You guys show Jeremy's table how good a Wammy kid can be at breakfast, alrighty?" Moira tells her group. She can't help but smile a little at how effective the challenge is; glancing back over her shoulder on her way across the room she sees even Rom and Over are sitting nicely in their places and eating (albeit with their hands and not their silverware), throwing looks of smug superiority at the other table where Mello and Near are still jostling each other. After letting Marta know where she's headed, Moira slips out of the dining hall and heads for the dormitories.
The rest of the House is sleepily quiet, in stark contrast to the chatter and sausage-scented craziness concentrated in the dining hall. Coming up to Vince's bedroom door, Moira finds it shut, but she can clearly hear him singing to himself.
"Vince?" she calls, knocking.
"C'min!" answers his cheerful little voice.
Moira has to bite the inside her mouth to keep from bursting into laughter at the sight that meets her eyes when she opens the door.
V is sitting in the middle of the floor, his pajama legs rolled up to the knees. Right beside him is a brand-new sneaker, gotten just yesterday. The other is on his foot, the laces wrapped up around his ankle and tied into a tangled wad that would rival the Gordian knot.
"It's time for breakfast," she tells him, still struggling not to laugh at him. "You don't want to miss it, do you?"
"No," says V, beaming at her and bending back over the knot, which he is currently trying to loosen with a pen cap. "I gonna wear my new shoes to brea'fast! But I din' know the bows so I maked my own knot. I invented it," he tells her proudly. "But now I gotta un-invent it a little bit."
"I can see that," Moira says, returning his brilliant smile helplessly. "Here, why don't you teach me and we can both work on it."
"Well, ok then."
"You know, Vince, you don't need to wear shoes to breakfast. Marta might get a little bit upset about shoes on her floor," Moira points out gently as Vince sits back and lets her attempt to subdue the monstrous shoelace knot.
"Ma Marta don' like dirts onna floor," the little boy points out brightly. "New shoes don't got any dirts."
"That's true," Moira admits. His eager attitude is infectious, and she remembers how excited he was yesterday during try-on time. Most of the kids get cranky during new-clothes days; they don't like any of the colors, they're tired of trying things on, they'd rather keep their old favorite pajamas even though they have a hole in them, the shirt they like doesn't fit but they try to pretend it does, they have homework and don't want to be distracted just to try on t-shirts. Vince, on the other hand, lit up like a little light bulb when he saw the white shoes with the green stripes on the sides, strutting around proudly in them with his normally happy grin stretched so wide Moira thought his face might break in half. "Tell you what. Just for today we'll ask Marta if you can let everyone see your awesome new shoes. Ok? Then after that you can keep them nice just for outside Play Time. Hao ba?"
"Hao a!" Vince agrees excitedly, waggling his feet.
Right. Now she just has to get this thing untied. Moira hopes everything is going ok at the table for Jeremy, because this might take a few minutes.