Chapter 8 Advice for the Struggling
The door to Wendy's room slid open. The pink walls appeared to be glowing, the silky curtains hanging around her bed swayed back and forth like a mother cradling her baby in a rocking chair. Wendy let out a breath and sauntered over to her bed. She groaned happily as she sunk into the cushy mattress. The snow white bed sheets and bow-shaped pillows hugged her shell and caressed her arms. Her heart beat slowed to a relaxing pace.
She could stay here forever. She could grow old while wrapped in these covers. They were softer than the feathers of a newborn duckling, silkier than the thin strands of a cat's fur. She could stay here for the rest of time. She could die in this bed.
"I might never get up," Wendy moaned as she sunk even deeper into the comforter. She closed her heavy eyelids. Warmth was starting to cover her, peace was starting to fill her soul.
"Hey, Wendy."
And just like that, the illusion was shattered. Wendy opened one eye and saw Lemmy standing next to the bed. He was smiling, beaming. Tucked underneath his right arm was what appeared to be a very heavy book. Wendy reoriented herself so that she was lying on her belly.
"What is it, Lems?"
Lemmy's beaming face grew even brighter.
"I just came to check up on you. Are you excited about teaching preschool tomorrow?"
Wendy felt her heart crumble into grainy bits of sand.
"No."
"No?" Lemmy asked in surprise. He mounted the bed and looked into her eyes. "Why wouldn't you be? Preschool is awesome!"
"Maybe for you," Wendy said. "But for me...I don't know."
Now Lemmy had a very interested look. He leaned in closer to his sister.
"What about it do you not know? Are you nervous? Scared? Worried that the kids might turn into gremlins?"
Lemmy let out a chuckle, which helped Wendy realize that the last suggestion was presented to her as a joke. Unfortunately, it did not lift her spirits. It just made her gloom saturated heart that much heavier. She bit her bottom lip and grunted in apprehension.
"I guess you could say that," she said slowly. The brightness in Lemmy's eyes disappeared.
"What? You're actually worried that you could be eaten by gremlins?" he asked. Wendy nudged him in the arm.
"No, you dummy. I'm just worried, period." She looked away from her older brother, unwilling to make eye contact with him. She stared off to a gash that had been created in the carnation pink wall. "I am not the biggest fan of little kids."
Lemmy gasped. He put his hand to his heart, as if he had been stabbed by a wooden stake.
"You don't mean that!" he objected.
"I do! I really do! They're icky and loud and boisterous...they only care about themselves! They aren't like teenagers!"
Lemmy snickered. Wendy stared at him as he covered his mouth, trying to suppress his laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"'They aren't like teenagers...' Wendy, there are a ton of teenagers who only care about themselves! And besides. Being loud and boisterous is what makes little kids so darn awesome! It means that they are curious about life, and happy to be anywhere!" He sighed happily. "Yeah, kids are great."
Wendy shook her head.
"That's easy for you to say. But for me, little kids are just about the last type of people that I want to be around." She chuckled. "I didn't even like being around them when I was one!"
Lemmy pursed his lips and put his hand to his chin. Wendy could see his thoughts racing around in his head, being thrown back and forth as if they were being used in a game of pong.
"I don't really know if there is anything I can say to help you with that," he finally said. "I mean, it sounds like a personal problem."
Wendy nodded.
"Yeah. I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to survive the week."
Lemmy directed his attention back down toward the book that he had brought under his armpit. He laid it on the bed and stared at it. A snort of a laugh escaped from the confines of his mouth.
"You know, I actually thought that I wouldn't like biology," he said. "That is, until I found this book." He tapped the cover of the textbook with his index finger. "It really opened my eyes and showed me how cool biology can be! In fact, that is another reason why I came to see you; I wanted to tell you about what I learned."
Wendy raised an eyebrow.
"What did you learn?"
"Well, I learned that there is a type of organelle in plant cells called the chloroplast. They are directly responsible for conducting photosynthesis!"
"That's cool," Wendy said with a smile.
"It is!" Lemmy turned the page. "And apparently, cells also go through this thing called mitosis. There are four stages: prophase, metaphase, anaphase, and telophase! When all four of those stages are complete, the cell splits into two!"
Wendy nodded her head.
"Wow. That's really something."
"Yeah! And I never would have known about it unless I opened the book and actually read about it!" Lemmy looked at Wendy with a gentle, happy expression. "Maybe it could be the same for you. Instead of getting frustrated about the punishment, you can use it to learn new things! Try talking to some of the kids tomorrow! Try to get to know them!" Lemmy smiled. "Maybe they'll stay out of their gremlin forms long enough for you to actually have fun with them."
This time, the joke that Lemmy told actually got a chuckle out of Wendy. Her heart felt considerably lighter, the room suddenly didn't look as dreary. Lemmy laughed right alongside her.
"I guess I can try that," she said. She smiled. "Maybe tomorrow won't be so bad."
"That's the spirit!" Lemmy said with a smile. He closed the biology textbook and looked at the clock on Wendy's bedside table. "Oh wow, it's 8 o'clock. I need to get to bed!"
"Wait," said Wendy. "You're heading to bed this early?"
"I am. I'm going to be teaching a class tomorrow. I need all the rest I can get."
With that, Lemmy left the room. As soon as the door closed, Wendy let out a humongous yawn. She figured that heading to bed at such an early time probably wouldn't be such a bad idea. With that, she turned off the light, pulled up her covers, and went to sleep.
Unfortunately, the sleep that greeted her was not a pleasant one.