Parte Quart

PARTE QUART

I magically steer the car like “The Stig” from “Top Gear” through six sets of traffic lights before I hit the highway. Saying the mantra, “Green light, green light, green light, amber light, amber light, amber light,” really works!”

 

I arrive at my High School. I glance at my watch. It’s 8:45 am. I’m only fifteen minutes late instead of thirty. It’s a good day!

 

I take out my handy dandy notebook and pen and write – exercise, petrol, sausages and broccoli. I rip out the page, get out of the car and put the note on my seat for later. I reach for my magnetic Teacher Aide badge, slip it on and pray that it doesn’t affect my electro-magnetic field around my body too much.

 

I grab my work bag out of the trunk, lock the car, disable the engine and put an imaginary force field around it for protection today.

 

I take out my handy dandy notebook and pen and write “force field”, before I inhale deeply and head to the office to sign in. My work bag is on wheels so I trot at a fast pace while I use all six of my senses to detect any disturbances from the norm.

 

I work with Specials Needs children in a low socio-economic urban area filled with a melting pot of gangs and racial tension. I wonder what the day will bring – a knifing; another girl collapsing from anorexia; a bashing; a riot? God help me, I remember I’m on playground duty today. I’m now in Commando Mode.

 

I enter the staff common room and check my pigeon hole. Nothing requires attention. Good news! I erase all negative thoughts from my mind, not wanting to tempt fate. Instead, I picture my morning mermaid, Bindi Irwin. Bindi surfs on the arched back of a dolphin. She asks him to spit miniature sea-horses onto her magic wand. She waves the wand at an oil-soaked seagull and it becomes clean in an instant. I take out my handy dandy notebook and pen and write that down.

 

I head into the office to sign on. I glance at my watch. It’s 9 am. Damn! I’m thirty minutes late again. How did that happen?