27. Overflow
Billy is in the middle of fixing a six year-old's untied shoe when his internal dradis goes haywire. He jerks his head up and does a quick scan of his immediate area. Three little girls working on their homework at one of the long tables. A little boy and a little girl playing a game with a length of string near the tent flap. Two little boys doing an odd little dance while simultaneously trying to keep each other away from one of the classroom toys. A little boy... trying to pour a glass of juice from a jug half his size. Bingo.
Knowing that to yell would only startle the child – he really has no desire to spend the next fifteen minutes mopping up juice from the greater portion of the newly-laid floor – Billy straightens and moves as quickly as possible to lift the rather large container away from the boy. He is only moderately successful.
Just as he's about to reach out and take the jug, juice overflows onto the low table. John, the boy, squeaks unhappily and overcompensates, trying to lift it up and away. It's only Billy's proximity and quick reflexes that save him from that extended mopping job.
Luckily, the juice misses him and John, mostly splashing over the snack table.
"John..." Quickly, Billy recaps the jug, wipes the drips on the side with his hand, and sets it a bit away from the spillage. John merely waits for this to finish, looking more than a little distressed at being caught.
He sighs and stares down, and down, and down at John. Voice stern: "How many times have we told you to wait for someone to help you with drinks?"
Though he'll only admit it after hours and far away from the lessons tent, Billy thinks John is absolutely adorable when he knows he's in trouble. Maybe it's a sense of camaraderie – Gods know how many times he'd been reprimanded by his primary school teachers for running in before thinking – but it takes everything in him not to crack up at the sight of this little boy scuffing his shoe and staring very intently at the floor while trying to explain himself.
Quietly, the little boy replies, twisting his hands in front of him. "Lots of times, Mr. Billy."
"And did you wait?"
"No, Mr. Billy." The little voice definitely sounds on the verge of tears.
"Are you going to do it again?"
There is a sniffle and a mumble followed by a slight sob. Billy squats down to look the boy in the face. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that."
John ducks his head into his own shoulder and shrugs. His response, when it came is almost silent. "No, Mr. Billy."
"And you're going to help me clean this up so you'll remember this for next time, won't you John?"
That gets the boy's attention. Eyes bright he jerks his head up and stares at the older man before nodding quickly. Tears are streaked all over his face. Overall it is a rather pathetic picture. Then again, that can be said for most of their settlement.
Billy sighs and leans in to hug the boy. Back in the first few weeks of this job, low as anything after the loss of the Presidential election, he and Laura'd had a conversation about what a different experience teaching these children and teaching the ones back before the attack was.
"Before the attack," she'd said, her feet kicked up on a nearby box, her hands trying to work a kink in her neck out. "Before the attack, special-needs children were the aberration. Traumatized kids. Kids with learning disabilities. They were rare. These kids? Gods, Billy. I don't think we have a normal kid in the bunch."
And she'd been right. There is only one child in his entire class section that has both of her parents alive. John is one of the unluckier ones. Both of his parents died after the attacks.
"Gentleness, Billy," Laura had said. "Everyone needs gentleness. Especially these kids. Especially now."
Billy sighs a little and hugs the boy tight for a minute, brushing a reassuring kiss on his head. "Okay. Now. You go get the rags and I'll wait here."
Sniffling a little, John wipes his nose with the back of his hand before nodding. "Okay."
Billy smiles and gives him a light push in the right direction. On his way, the boy glances back and smiles timidly before heading towards the back of the tent and the collection of scavenged cleaning supplies.
Sure that John is going where he's supposed to go, Bill looks down at the damage. Not too bad. Oh, the glamorous life of a teacher's aide. Not even realizing he's smiling, Billy gets to work.
