Chapter 19: School Daze
Getting Jack to do all the paperwork and forms backfired slightly for Sam, having forgotten the award certificate tucked into the home side of the folder. Jack teased her about it the rest of the afternoon and even as he dropped her off the next morning, he continued to give her a good ragging about it. Sam just rolled her eyes as Jack admonished her to be a good listener and pointed her towards her class group in show for the staff member heading their way. Sam joined her little class, greeting her teacher and Ms. Hans. Even though she recalled where she'd stood the previous day, she let the aide guide her to her place in line after the woman marked her name on the attendance roster and ensured she was wearing her name badge, which had been collected at the end of the previous day.
The second day started much like the first, the Pledge recited after the morning's PA announcement, and the students were asked to take their folders out and put them on the desk before gathering on the carpet around the calendar, repeating the same lesson as the day before except echoing in chorus that today was Wednesday. A different child was chosen to place the weather magnet on the date. Sam noticed Ms. Hans moving about the room, collecting the folders, removing the completed forms, and adding new papers to the folders while the class was occupied with the calendar lesson. The stack of collected forms were left in a neat pile on Mrs. Guilford's desk, and Sam wondered when the two women would have time to sort them. Likely it was part of the reason for the half day, for the students at least.
With school supplies already unpacked, the students were started on activities by table group after putting away their folders, some working at their tables, others going to different parts of the room either with one of the adults or able to play independently. Like the previous day, tasks and free play were alternated by group over the next hour or so, and Sam was able to make the connection that the leaves distinguished which child was in which group, until the teachers could identify children by sight without the benefit of name tags. As she'd suspected, the leaves they had colored the previous day were now laminated and taped to the table, and the little collages decorated the back bulletin board.
As if to underscore her new realization, the students were directed to stand up and gather in the center of the room, a game announced. Mrs. Guilford would call "Go," and on her command, children were to find a leaf on the floor that matched the ones on their desk and nametag before she called "Stop." Anyone not standing on a leaf, or standing on the wrong color leaf had to stand on the sidelines, and pretend to be trees. Ms. Hans, also playing the part of a tree to the student's amusement, occasionally would make loud blowing sounds and all the trees had to move in the "wind." The game was much like a variation of musical chairs, only the children weren't "out", they simply took on a new part off the game.
There was a lot of giggling as many of the children got caught up in the game. Sam found the laughter contagious, getting involved despite herself in the game until she was eliminated as the period of time to find leaves was shortened and a number of the leaves were covered with pieces of paper, removing them from the game and shrinking the playing field like the similar chair variation. She obligingly took up her place with the other children on the perimeter, playing a tree.
After the active game, the children were lined up and taken to the bathroom. They returned to the classroom only long enough to collect snacks before heading to the empty cafeteria, where they had their snacks at their assigned table, soon joined by the other two kindergarten classes. The room was still mostly empty, but it seemed more welcoming with the lights fully lit, and the three small classes of boisterous children.
Snack time over, all three classes went out to the playground, and Sam let herself be coaxed into a game of Simon Says led by one of the other teachers. Again, she found herself laughing not just at the antics of the children around her, but also at her own responses to the game. It was an unusual sense of freedom, not having to hold onto the aloofness of adulthood.
Back in the classroom, the class did another art project, this time simple shapes cut out of colored construction paper were passed out, and the children were encouraged to glue the bits of paper to a plain white sheet in any fashion that they liked. As the project wound down to a close, Sam looked up as Daniel hesitantly tapped on the doorframe; the classroom's doors and windows open to the seasonable weather outside. She smiled, and then ducked her head, remembering that she wasn't supposed to know Daniel. She pretended to concentrate on her collage, while Mrs. Guilford greeted Daniel, the two exchanging a few quiet words as the woman led the man into the room. Her teammate set down a briefcase on a chair near Mrs. Guilford's desk as the woman called an end to the art project. Ms. Hans began to move about the room, helping students put things away and clear their desks.
The project tidied away, the small class looked expectantly at the newcomer, some nervous, some curious. Under scrutiny of eighteen small pairs of eyes, Daniel swallowed, and then broke into his most charming of smiles. "Bonjour, les enfants," he said clearly, enunciating slowly. Most of the children looked confused, one bolder child giggled, thinking Daniel was just babbling. Undaunted, Daniel used exaggerated gestures to point at himself, patting his chest with one hand. "Monsieur Paxton." He then pointed back to the class, and spoke, "Bonjour, Monsieur Paxton." This time he made expansive gestures, pointing to the class and then cupping his ear. Sam joined a few students in giggling this time, knowing what Daniel wanted, but waiting until the class figured it out. Ever patient, Daniel repeated himself, and this time a few hesitant students attempted to say the foreign words.
At this weak response, Daniel's grin widened, and he raised a fist in victory. "Oui! Très bien! Very good! Encore!" Again, he used expansive gestures to show he wanted the children to try again. This time, all students joined in, some louder and surer than others.
"Très bien! Very good." Daniel repeated, and then pointed at the class and made the universal "come here" gesture. "Venez. Asseyez-vous," he said, pointing at the carpet in front of them, obviously inviting them to come and sit. Sam stood up with the first hesitant students, making her way to the carpet, the rest of the class following with more animated urgings by Daniel, and Sam couldn't hide her smile as she took a seat on the carpet. While he still looked vaguely uncomfortable at being the center of attention of so many, he appeared to be enjoying himself. Languages were his element after all, and whether his target group was five or fifty, he'd find a way to teach them.
Once the class was settled in front of him, Daniel opened up his briefcase and began to remove colorful pictures from it, one at a time, holding each one up so all could see. Switching to English, he asked the class what each item was. Tentative hands poked into the air at the first picture, and he selected a child named Billy.
"Ball?" asked the little boy tentatively.
"Yes, Oui," Daniel replied, in both English and French. "In France, we say ballon. Can everyone say ballon?" A hesitant chorus responded. "Très bien, very good!" He pulled out another picture, this one of a car. A different child was selected to name the item in English, and Daniel then provided the French word, having the class repeat it to his satisfaction. He did this with ten simple pictures of common, familiar objects, and having identified them all in English and French, he then held up the first picture again, the one of the ball.
"What is this?" he asked, pointing this time to a little girl, shyly sitting in the back.
The girl frowned slightly. "A ball?"
"Oui, a ball, but in France?" Sam was slightly prepared when Daniel called on her, even though she'd not raised her hand.
She pretended to concentrate, despite the fact that she'd studied French as part of her prerequisites for her Master's degree. "Ballon?" she asked, as if unsure.
Daniel beamed, and responded as if she were any of the other students, and Sam couldn't help but return his grin with a genuine smile of her own. "Oui! Très bien! Very good! In France, we call this a ballon. Now, classe, what is this in France?" he asked, moving on and holding up the picture of the car. A hand or two went up, and Daniel picked one, looking even more excited when the child repeated the correct French word for the item, albeit with a thick accent of English and unfamiliarity. The child practically glowed over Daniel's praise, even though half of it was in French. He went through the pictures, getting the French words more often than not.
At the end of the lesson, he again pointed to himself, raising eyebrows in a comically questioning gesture, drawing out a few giggles. A few children, Sam included, dutifully chorused "Monsieur Paxton." Daniel grinned, and then said, "Goodbye, Au revoir." He pointed again at himself, then the class. "Au revoir, Monsieur Paxton," he supplied, and cupped his ear dramatically. A few more students giggled, but most of the class chorused "Au revior, Monsieur Paxton." Daniel bowed theatrically to the class causing a few more giggles, and then told the class, "Au revoir, les enfants," gathering his briefcase and heading toward the door, wading in among the students, telling many of them individually by name goodbye in French. More giggles as the kids tried to repeat au revoir, and some simply said goodbye, most of the class waving in farewell. Under the cover of this one on one treatment, Daniel managed to slip Sam a small folded square of paper, which she placed immediately into her pocket, under cover of deliberately mangling the simple French words. Daniel squeezed her shoulder, and wended his way through the cluster of children, pausing here and there before leaving out the door, followed by another chorus of mixed French and English farewells.
He'd barely disappeared out the door before Mrs. Guilford and Ms. Hans came to the front of the class. They had all the children standing up around them in a group. Sam stifled a groan as the two women led the children in an all too familiar song that had accompanying body movements, and Sam dutifully mimed the actions as she chanted the lyrics to Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes, trying to look enthusiastic. The little song was followed by a story over at the reading corner. After the story, it was time to go home. There were no awards handed out today, but the sticker chart was again displayed. Apparently, the children needed only to collect ten stars to earn a small prize from a little chest, which held things like stickers, bouncy balls and colorful pencils. During the day the two adults had made points to award children with stars during the day, when caught following directions or doing something especially well. At the end of the day, most of the children still had an equal number of stars despite a few of the children having had a rough morning, bursting into tears or throwing tantrums. One child in Sam's group had even had the misfortune to wet his pants while sitting near her on the carpet, much to her dismay. A janitor had been summoned to clean the spot on the carpet, but it had not been Teal'c, while Ms. Hans took the unfortunate student to the bathroom with his spare change of clothing with a large box of wet wipes and a plastic bag to send the soiled clothes home in. The reason for the extra change of clothes now made perfect sense to Sam, though she devoutly hoped that these sorts of "accidents" were a rare occurrence. Tomorrow was the first full day of school, and Sam wondered how she'd manage it. She was exhausted after these two half days, and looking around at the children around her as they gathered their things, the rest of the class fared little better.
The folded square Daniel had slipped her felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket, but Sam suspected that Daniel had no real news, and was merely trying to find a way to establish communication with the rest of the team during the week. Still, it was all she could do to wait patiently as the children were lined up and led outside, dutifully holding hands. Sam stood on tiptoes, and spotted the top of the SUV and Jack's graying head next to it, waving enthusiastically to catch the attention of one her teachers so they'd let her go.
"Hi Dad!" she greeted for the benefit of nearby staff as she climbed into the back seat.
"Did you have fun today?" Jack asked, hiding amusement as Sam buckled herself in with record speed.
"Oh, loads," she returned, then wriggled around as Jack closed his door and started the engine. "Daniel came to our class today, he slipped me a note. It's probably nothing, but I haven't had a chance to look at it without drawing attention." A bit more wriggling, and Sam withdrew the small square of torn off notebook paper, covered in an all too familiar scrawl. As she'd suspected, it held little of any import, but it was nice to see something, anything, regarding the mission. "Met T. All is quiet. See you Saturday. D." she read aloud from the little note, and sighed. "Ah well, it's only the second day," Sam said, unable to keep a little disappointment from her voice.
"I'm sure we'll find a lead soon," Jack said, also looking a little disappointed. Then he brightened. "I know, we should go get some ice cream."
Sam laughed, and shook her head. "Really sir, if it's all the same, I'm tired and I'd rather just go home and get some lunch." She chose not to mention that her decision had more to do with the fact that skipping a real meal and substituting it with pure sugar had caused her to spend half the previous afternoon feeling jittery and unable to stay focused for very long on any one task. That period had been followed by a level of fatigue and irritation that resulted in her avoiding the Colonel for the rest of the evening, rather than risking insubordination, especially after he'd found the award tucked in with the routine paperwork.
Jack gave her a shrewd glance in the mirror as he turned out of the school drive and onto the street. Obviously, he'd noticed her somewhat uncharacteristic behavior last night, but wisely chose not to comment on it, noting the slight slump of her shoulders and the frown lines etched in her forehead. "Home it is, maybe we should watch a movie tonight, have a little popcorn or something after dinner later," he suggested.
She agreed, and sighed, settling back in her seat to watch the scenery pass by. The day had been tiring, and tomorrow's full day promised to be even more so.
True to word, the two of them spent an evening quietly at home, eating a simple lunch on the back deck and enjoying the warm afternoon sunshine. Sam related Daniel's first day of instruction to the Colonel, deciding that Daniel wouldn't mind taking a little of the heat of Jack's teasing off her. They ordered out for dinner, getting Chinese since they'd forgone the ice cream earlier. The skipped the popcorn and ate their dinner in the living room watching TV, paper cartons arrayed on the coffee table much like team night.
After the movie, Sam went out to the kitchen, and got down her lunch bag and a few things using her step stool. She was at the island absorbed in her task when she heard Jack enter the room, pausing in the doorway. He cleared his throat. "Whatcha doing?" he asked.
Sam looked up from the two slices of bread in front of her. "I'm making my lunch for tomorrow, sir," she replied. Jack frowned slightly, watching her silently, his forehead slightly creased. He wanted to say something but was biting his lip. She looked back up. "What is it, sir?"
Jack shook his head. "I feel like I should be doing that," he answered, and held up a hand. "I know, I know, you can do it. But I wish you could see how you look," he told her, and turned to put a few leftover bits from dinner away where they belonged before coming to lean companionably across the counter from her.
Looking down, Sam looked at her preparations, and then shrugged, smiling slightly. "I guess not many five year olds make their own lunches," she replied, putting the sandwich together and reaching for the plastic wrap.
He nodded, and then frowned slightly at the sandwich she'd just made. One eyebrow went up. "Peanut butter and jelly?" he asked, a note of teasing in her voice.
She met his gaze levelly, chin lifted slightly. "I am five sir," she answered, and then put the sandwich in the soft-sided blue lunch bag, adding a bit of fruit, a juice box, and a granola bar. Jack's frown returned. She looked at him, puzzled. "What?"
Jack just shook his head, and went to the cupboards, rooting around before reappearing with a pudding cup, adding it to the bag. "You're five," he returned to her blank look. "Wheat bread, fruit, granola. I can't have people thinking I'm some sort of health food junkie," he teased.
Sam giggled. "Oh, we definitely can't have that," she agreed, and reached for two more slices of bread, already spreading the first with peanut butter. She looked up as she added jelly to the second slice and shrugged at his questioning look. "It's been a long time since I've had one of these. Thought I should practice my reaction," she explained innocently. "Want some? We did skip dessert." Without waiting for reply, she sliced the sandwich in half and slid the plate towards the Colonel after taking one half. Jack grinned, but relieved the plate of the second half.
The two munched in silence, Jack returning the peanut butter and bread back to the cupboard, and Sam put the jelly and her lunch bag in the fridge. Jack popped the remains of the snack into his mouth around a huge yawn and Sam smiled ruefully, smothering her own answering yawn.
"Think I'll turn in," she said.
Jack nodded. "I'm just gonna watch the end of the game, and I'll be right behind you," he promised.
"Night Dad," she said, lips quirking into a little smile.
"Night Daughter," he replied over his shoulder, heading for the living room. Sam yawned, and headed down the hall. Tomorrow was going to be another big day.
A/N: Special thanks to Jenny, for her corrections on French word use and grammar. Merci. If there are any leftover mistakes, neither Jenny nor the author is at fault. Blame Babel Fish. (points accusingly at translator program) I hope everyone had a lovely holiday and a Happy New Year. Me? I slept through the New Year, and I hope the rest of you had a more exciting time. They do say that you should do something at midnight that you would want to do the rest of the year, and I'd really like to sleep better. Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.