Ch. 3 - Serving the Sentence
August 4, 2003
Dear Diary,
It's 6:00AM and I can't sleep any more. It's a strange mixture of fear, curiosity, and even some excitement. Today will be my first day of serving my sentence at Mrs. Wigglesworth's daycare, and it might not be as bad as I expected after all. I had an interesting conversation with Lucy yesterday as we were weeding around the tomato plants, safely away from my mom's earshot. She said that she had done a whole summer at Mrs. Wigglesworth's just before starting grade 7.
That in itself was pretty shocking news, as I had no recollection whatsoever of Lucy ever being punished for anything. Let alone punishment severe enough to last an entire summer... Perfect Kid, remember? But apparently she had quite the little business venture going on, selling homework services to her classmates all through grades 5 and 6. Which is how she could afford to buy all those fancy models of Mobile Suits. Paper route, my ass...
Anyway, eventually mom busted her when they bought the new computer and had to move all the files from the old one, and she found this neatly organized, password-protected spreadsheet of all my sister's "clients", which basically told the whole story. Which classes she did their homework for, complete with dates of assignments, grades achieved, and payment received.
Did I mention my mom used to be a software engineer before packing it all in and moving to Saltspring to teach yoga? So she's definitely not above hacking into her own kids' files. I'll have to keep that in mind for future reference...
With a little digging, she also found the other folders, one for each client, where Lucy would save all the custom work like essays, book reports and such, indexed by class and date. Lucy told me she used to type everything out on the computer, and all her clients had to do was copy it down in their own handwriting, maybe drop the odd spelling mistake here and there to make it look all the more genuine. As she told me all this in half whispers in the vegetable patch, she had all the airs of someone who knows she did something despicable, but was still damn proud of it, if only for the gall and entrepreneurial skills it took to pull it off for so long. And, as much as I despise people who cheat to get ahead, I couldn't help being intrigued by my sister's dirty little secret.
As it turns out, dad still doesn't know anything. Which explains why I never had any clue either... Mom can be shrewd and practical about stuff like that, whereas dad would have gotten into a righteous rage, ranting and raving about justice, and playing fair, and standing proudly by one's conscience instead of bowing to the power of money and feeding the parasites of the system. Or something like that. He's every bit the idealist that he was as a college student, when he met mom at an environmental rally to save their neighbourhood nudist beach (I kid you not!).
So mom confronted Lucy, firmly but very discreetly, because Lucy could have gotten suspended if something like that ever came out. And if there is one thing that Lucy fears most of all else in the world, it's failure, academic or otherwise. I mean, it's not like it's going to kill you to not get top marks in a test every once in a while: look at me, for crying out loud! But I guess she never really had the chance to figure it out for herself... And for that, I do worry about her, because the longer she waits to find out that she can get back up and try again, the harder it's going to hit her. She's only telling me now because her school's half-way around the world, and besides I have nothing to gain from telling anyone even if I did want to use it as a bargaining chip. Which, of course, I am not going to do because that would just be plain slimy of me.
Anyway, mom made her destroy all the evidence, donate all proceeds (which she had already spent, and had to make up from her allowance and paper route for the next year) to a charity of her choice, and swear solemnly that she would never again demean another classmate by helping them cheat. She also told her she would be monitoring all her computer access, including e-mail, MSN, the whole works... to make sure she didn't start up any other ethically questionable business ventures. And, as soon as the summer break started, she would be going to Mrs. Wigglesworth's daycare instead of the environmental day camp that she had hoped for.
So, out of all this, the good news is that Mrs. Wigglesworth has enough on her hands with the under-5 crowd to be in any mood to baby-sit 11-year-old girls. While it's true that I have to remain on the premises and not wander off on my own or sneak away to join my friends at camp, I can pretty much do whatever I want while I'm there. I can read books and comics, listen to CD's on my diskman, write in my diary, doodle, paint, and so on... As long as I don't require other 11-year-olds to keep me from dying of boredom, and as long as I don't mind the noise, I'll be fine. And, if I get really bored, I can always lend a hand to Mrs. Wigglesworth, who I've been assured will be more than willing to oblige. So, really, if I wanted to, I could make the whole experience into the ultimate hands-on babysitting boot camp.
Which, incidentally, is what Lucy decided to do after the first couple of weeks of sulking around. In fact, by the end of the summer, she had gathered enough experience in childcare to start supplementing her paper route money with babysitting, so that she never really missed the lost income from the homework business. Parents, after all, pay a lot better than kids can. Which, all things considered, must have been exactly what my mother was aiming for, and goes to show that the woman truly is a genius in her own right. Sadistic, but a genius nonetheless.
So I've made up my mind. I could whine and complain till I'm blue in the face, but I'm going to suck it up instead and make the most of it. Mom said I need to learn patience and the ability to control my temper, that I am too driven by my emotions, and need to think before jumping into action and damn the torpedoes (whatever that means). She said bravery is a virtue, and I have no shortage of it, but without the wisdom to channel it properly, it turns into bravado and foolishness. And, as long as I keep acting foolishly, she has no choice but to treat me like a little girl and send me to little kids' daycare. As embarrassing as this is, knowing that everyone in my entire school will find out sooner or later (man, Kristy Kavanaugh is going to act like she won freaking American Idol...), mom actually does have a point. What she does not know yet is that I am bound and determined to prove her wrong and show everyone just how responsible and grown-up I can be when I set my mind to it. And this is exactly my chance to do it.
Tykes & Trykes Daycare, here I come!
August 5, 2003
Dear Diary,
Too exhausted to write. Pounding headache from hell just won't go away. Lucy said little kids can smell fear, and will feed on a caregiver's insecurity like a pack of rabid wolves. Going to go to bed early and call it a day. Thank God it's just a week and not the rest of the summer...
August 6, 2003
Dear Diary,
Remind me never to bring out the finger paint ever again. I just wanted them to be quiet for just five minutes... That's not asking for much, is it? Kids on a sugar high... finger paint... very bad combination! It was all going pretty well, all things considered, until Joshua got frustrated with his dinosaur not looking as nice as Kyle's, and flung his paint at his face. Then of course, he had to retaliate, but ended up splashing it all over Melody's hair instead. Then it all went downhill from there. It took me for ever to scrub all that stuff off the walls, the floor, the kids' hair and faces... My Wolverine tee-shirt is pretty much good for the garbage now.
Needless to say, when Miranda (that's Mrs. Wigglesworth, by the way, and she's actually pretty cool for a grown-up) saw all the mess after putting the twins down for their nap, she was not impressed. But we rounded up all the little devils, scrubbed them clean with the garden hose in the backyard, and sealed up the art room so that we could clean up after they were gone.
It took us a whole hour to get the room back into presentable shape. She ended up driving me home, so she could explain to my parents why I was an hour late coming home. And then something wonderful happened. She told my mom what excellent help I've been, and how hard I work, and that she really appreciates having such a responsible, mature young lady to help her out with the little ones. And the look on my mom's face was simply priceless.
All I need to do now is keep up the good work until Friday.
August 7, 2003
Dear Diary,
I am getting used to the various degrees of high-pitched screaming in my ears. The peanut butter and jelly fingers all over my clothes, however, I'm still working on. Lucy said that all through her stint at the daycare, she just wore stuff that she didn't really care about because it's gonna be covered with all sorts of stains by the end of it.
Saw Sarah and Jamie today. They stopped by the daycare on their way home from day camp. Both said the place just isn't the same without me, though I know they had a great time because today was supposed to be the trip to the SPCA to play with the puppies and kittens. They said that Dingle now avoids them like the plague, and is very careful not to bully other kids while either of them are anywhere within earshot.
Sarah looked all smug and self-satisfied, so after a while I had to ask what's up. She was all coy for a while, saying it was nothing and such, then we finally coaxed it out of her. It looks like Kristy Kavanaugh found out right away why I'm not at camp this week, and has been going around telling everyone that my parents must have finally figured out that I'm retarded and sent me to a little kids' daycare instead.
I was livid when Sarah told me, and was ready to show up at the little twit's doorstep tonight and give her an earful, but I let Sarah continue on first. And boy, am I glad I did.
She told me that Kristy walked up to her in front of the whole camp today, flanked as usual by her sidekicks Kaitlyn and Kayla (the KKK, as we call them... not that they have any clue what it means). She started acting all sugary-sweet, and said in her prissy little voice,
"Now that Hilde is in, like, daycare, she might even, like, be held back in school, like, who knows, so if you feel like you need to, like, make some friends your own age, you know, we can, like, hang out some time... We're gonna go to Pharmasave after camp today to try on some new nail polish, you're welcome to join us. They've got, like, really awesome colours."
Then Kaitlyn chimed in, "Yeah, Sarah, why don't you come along?
You'd look really good in that new Creamsicle Burst colour they have..."
"No," Kayla disagreed, "can't you see she's, like, totally a
'winter'? Listen to me, Sarah, you'd look really good in Cyber Blue, or even,
like, a Frosty Lilac, but do yourself a favour, and stay away from, like, bright
summer colours, like that T-shirt you're wearing today. They do nothing for
your stringy blonde hair and pale complexion..." And with that, she
gave a toss to her glossy chocolate-brown ringlets, as if to show off what a
'summer' kind of girl looks like, all bronzed and glowing.
Wouldn't they have loved that, to have their trio completed with the last season they needed... Because Kayla's obviously a summer (anybody with eyes, like, knows that, apparently...), Kaitlyn is an autumn, with her red hair and green eyes and Irish looks, and Kristy, honey-blonde hair and blue eyes, is all about spring colours like putrid pastels, and every possible shade of pink known to mankind. Eurgh...
I really didn't like where the conversation was going, so I got all sarcastic, and asked Sarah what she was doing here, when she could have been "like, at Pharmasave with her popular new friends, picking out, like, awesome winter colours to, like, paint her toenails and stuff..."
She made a face, and said, "Dude, I'd rather have my toenails surgically removed than to hang out with those twits. Do you have any idea how many times they use the word 'like', in an average sentence?"
Instead, she told me that she just thanked them politely in front of everyone, and said that she couldn't go because she was going to stop by here to see me after work.
"Work!" Kristy, Kayla and Kaitlyn squeaked all in unison, as if they're the Borg or something, a single working brain cell between the three of them. According to Sarah, they looked completely and utterly gobsmacked, like when Justin and Britney broke up.
"Yeah," said Sarah, all casually like it was common knowledge, and how could they be so out of the loop, "Haven't you heard? Hilde got a job at the Tykes & Trykes daycare... she started on Monday. I'm going to stop by and she's going to show me all the cute little babies that she looks after..."
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why Sarah is my best friend in the whole world and deserves the Oscar for Best Zippy Comeback of the Year. She sent them off with the tail between their legs, feeling like they were silly little girls playing dress-up, whereas Hilde Schbeiker was mature enough to have a real summer job. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall to see their faces...
Author's Note: Ok, so no magic happening yet, apart from the Dingle episode. Don't worry, I have something planned that will leave no doubt that Hilde is indeed gifted in a very unusual way. That, and Mrs. Schbeiker will have to contend with a pesky little barn owl that won't stop hanging about Hilde's bedroom window...