Chapter Fourteen
As Danielle entered the building, she could hear the loud laughter coming from the rooms behind the receptionist counter. It sounded like bells in the air, like the ones she used to hear on Christmas mornings, the ones her mama would hang on the knobs on their veranda. Her mind was conjuring up the image of her mother just as she rang the bell for the receptionist. It has been centuries since she'd last seen her mother. She remembered how she would bring home flowers from the borders of the woods for her mama, how her mama would always chide her for doing so while a hint of smile was in her eyes.
Her thoughts wandered further into the past while waiting for someone to appear behind the counter, reliving the happiest moments of her life before the day she went into the woods alone. Before her thoughts could wander to the moment where her entire existence was thrown off balance, the sound of footsteps approaching brought her back to the present.
"May I help you, Miss?"
"I'm Danielle Fields. I called this morning?" Danielle replied with a polite smile on her face.
"Oh yes, Miss Fields," the lady answered as her face lit up with recognition. She hastily wiped her hands on her apron as she shuffled behind the counter and began looking through the drawers. "We've got such a handful of them to handle everyday. It's really nice of you to volunteer your help. How did you find out about us?"
"Through the school. We were having some sort of programme and they mentioned your organization," Danielle lied as she took the plastic nametag that read 'VISTOR' and wore it over her head. Informing the lady that she got to know of this place through two angels was hardly an answer for a mere mortal.
"Really? That's really nice of you," she cooed. "We don't get this anymore, you know. Most youngsters would rather spend their time on something more useful and meaningful."
She stopped in mid sentence, coming around the counter to stand in front of Danielle, extending her hand. "Oh, by the way, I'm Stella Newman."
Danielle shook her hand politely, giving her a brief nod of acknowledgement.
"Well, the kids are basically situated in the sleeping area, which also doubles up as their playing pen," Stella began, gesturing to the room on Danielle's right. She moved, motioning for Danielle to follow her. " in the kitchen, which is situated at the back of the building."
Stella took Danielle around the school, familiarizing her with the different rooms. She brought Danielle to the small room which served as the teacher's lounge area, just on the left of the receptionist counter, where the she introduced Danielle to Brenda Wallace and Sarah Shaw, the two other teachers. She then proceeded to introduce Danielle to the children after she'd informed Danielle of the various rules regarding the school and the release of children after school.
The kids sat in a circle in front of them, peering curiously at Danielle, cocking their head sideways at her. Danielle did a quick surveillance of the kids while Stella introduced her, scanning the sea of faces before her for any injury or any indication of Natalie Westland. Despite her thoughts, she heard Stella mention her name, and remembered to smile, earning a few grins from the children before her.
Stella had left Danielle and the other teacher, Brenda in charge of looking after the kids. Danielle chose a kid named Clara and sat next to her, watching her color her piece of painting. A few moments later, Clara had discarded her painting and went in search for a puzzle instead. Danielle was helping her to figure out the pieces when she heard her charge's name.
"Natalie! Natalie!" one of the kids yelled from the other end of the room.
Danielle's head swirled around to the direction of the child's voice. Promptly, a little girl with sandy brown hair, loosely tied up in a ponytail stand up. She watched as the little girl ran towards the other end of the room, to the voice that beckoned her. Returning her attention to Clara, she posed a question to the little girl.
"Clara, is that Natalie Westland?" Danielle asked, handing her a piece of the puzzle.
"Yup. She's the only Natalie around here," Clara replied, unaware of Danielle's sudden knowledge of Natalie's last name. Her attention temporarily drawn away from the puzzle, she looked up at Danielle, pointing her finger in the direction of Natalie. "She's five, you know, a year younger than me."
Danielle beamed down at the child, her heart warming up with the sound of pride and innocence in Clara's voice. She gave the little girl's head a gentle pat. "Yes you are, and what a smart and pretty six year old you are! I remember when I was six years old, I was never good at piecing puzzles together, but you are," Danielle said, watching as Clara vigorously nod her head. "Why don't we finish up the puzzle so you can show Stella and the rest of them?"
Lunchtime came and the children were ushered into the kitchen where they took their lunch along with the teachers. Danielle had chose to sit among the kids instead of with the teachers, hoping to bond with the kids. It had been so long since she'd come into contact with kids. Their innocence amazed her and the sound of their carefree laughter made her envious. Those were the things she could and would never have. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her charge moving away from the table. She watched as Natalie placed her plate into the sink like she'd been taught and went back into the main room. She excused herself from the table and followed.
She stood at the doorway, watching the little five-year-old take a piece of drawing paper and a box of crayons and sat at her table. She cleared her voice, announcing her presence to the child as she approached her.
Natalie's head shot up, a beige crayon in her hands. It was Danielle, the new teacher. She was walking towards Natalie with a gentle smile on her face. 'A smile like Noah,' Natalie thought. She gave her a smile and returned her attention to the piece of paper in front of her. She began to draw a big circle in the middle of the paper.
"Hey."
"Hey," Natalie answered without looking up. She changed crayons and continued to draw two small circles in the big circle.
"My name is Danielle, and I heard yours is Natalie."
"Uh-huh," Natalie murmured.
"That's a very nice name. Who gave it to you?"
"I don't know," Natalie shrugged, turning to face the teacher who was kneeling beside her. "I was called Natalie ever since I could rwemember. I'm called Darling-dear too, sometimes."
"Darling-dear? That's nice too," Danielle cooed, trying to engage in a conversation with her. "Who calls you that?"
"My brwother."
She stopped at that, concentrating on drawing the picture instead. Danielle watched as she drew in a nose and a mouth, completing the face. She was just about to praise her on the photo when Natalie picked up a blue crayon and proceeded to draw little circles spaced apart, under the eyes. Danielle continued observing her, until she'd finished the picture, using a brown crayon to draw in the hair for the face. A sudden realization hit her then.
"Natalie, who's that in the picture?" Danielle asked carefully.
"Me," Natalie answered freely. She started drawing squares at the side of the face at odd angles.
"Why were you crying?" Danielle prodded.
Natalie shrugged. "My brwother and father was fighting yesternight."
Danielle felt a sinking feeling in her heart. She kept quiet, watching her colour the squares as she thought of a way to make her open up and tell her what happened.
"You know, when I was you age, my daddy and brother used to fight too," Danielle lied, hoping to make a connection the situation she'd been through.
Natalie stopped colouring, turned and looked at her. "They did?"
"Uh-huh," Danielle nodded, glad that she was successful in making the connection. "They used to fight all the time, in the morning and at night. I could never get any quiet."
"It was only last night that my daddy came back and fought with my brother," Natalie revealed, unaware that Danielle was trying to pry information from her.
"Well my daddy and brother used to fight all the time. And I would always get involved in the fight and get hurt," Danielle continued, watching the little girl's face carefully. "Did you get hurt when your daddy and brother fought?"
Natalie shook her head vigorously. "I hid in my cupboard with little Susie. My brwother got hurt. He had a cut here, here and here."
Danielle watched as she pointed at her brow, her left cheek and her lip. Something was familiar about the injuries her brother sustained. It nagged at the edge of her mind but she just couldn't recall what was familiar about the injuries. She focused on what Natalie was saying instead.
"Besides, my brwother would never let me get hurt," Natalie said, her face filled with pride and love for her brother. "Didn't your brwother prwotect you from hurt too?"
Danielle smiled gently, a hint of bitterness in her smile. Her thoughts drifted back to a time when she had a brother to watch over her. "He did. But sometimes he wasn't there to protect me."