It's Wednesday night, which means bible study, but that's not why I'm at the church. Not entirely that is. My aunt thought that since I did a good job with the kids there when I volunteered, I wouldn't mind being there to help her at bible study. So here I am, with no Juliana in sight and in a room filled with loud behind kids who refuse to hear anything I tell them. The numbers have swelled to about twenty kids, much more than what I dealt with last time, and although the ages are the same, the behavior certainly is not. It's near overwhelming. They don't care whether the TV is on or off, and they definitely don't care about one another's personal safety or their own, from the looks of the hurricane torn room. Toys, books, and other items are strewn everywhere, and all I can do is shake my head.
This room has a white board, and I think about the trick I did last time, but wonder about its possible effectiveness now. Making my way carefully through the now screaming children, I flip the channels looking for something to watch. I could probably watch an R rated movie and none of these kids would have a clue. Something catches my eye on the travel channel, and I watch uninterrupted for maybe a minute when I feel a tight tug on my sleeve. When I turn around it's one of the crazy kids, this one a boy a little on the chubby side, and in a sure but babyish voice he asks, "When are we getting snack?" I get the beginnings of an idea. Hopefully I will save my hearing. "Mmm, actually I was thinking you guys don't need a snack, you know? I mean, everyone's too busy playing to sit down and eat," and with that, I turn back to the TV, just as intrigued as I was before. The entire dynamics of the room change, and I can hear the room drop down to about a third of the noise level it was before. But I don't turn around; this guy is about to eat this insect that looks like a wasp, eww!
When the show goes on commercial break, I chance a look, and almost everyone looks at me expectantly. All except two little boys I immediately dub the Tibbles, from Arthur, who are still rough housing and smacking the crap out of each other for an action figure. There's always the option of calling in the parents, aka the reinforcements, but where's the fun in that? Besides, I spot a bunch of tattle-tells right in the crowd of kids even in their silence. They're waiting to see what I will do. Or they're hoping I feed them, honestly either one could be accurate. But I don't do anything worth getting excited about. I just watch the two kids pound each other to death, cringing inside but not doing anything about it. Each of them raises a challenging eye in my direction, as if I can't handle them, and I fight back the urge to laugh. When they don't get tired, and a few of the other kids once stone still are now back to playing and being loud again, I stand up and go over to the white board, which suits me better than the chalk board from last time.
People aren't exactly my forte, but they must not be entirely hideous if people have complimented me in the past. With a red marker first, I sketch out the first little boy, doing more erasing and accidental smudging than anything else, and when he looks decent enough for me to stop, I do. Picking up a blue marker this time, I do the same thing as before and listen for the heavy breathing and shouting to stop. Not entirely, but it gets there. I stretch my head around to see what the kids are doing, and all eyes are on my hand on the board. Quickly I write 'The Modern Tibbles' in black, all capital letters, and seek out the little boy who asked me about snack. "Now that we all can hear ourselves think, you guys ready for snack?" Of course they don't say very quiet for long, but I find tricks to keep their voices at an acceptable level. After all, who doesn't like a good game of hangman?
It's all fun and games, quite literally, until I feel a buzz in my pocket while playing Uno with some of the kids after snack time. The noise level is a lost cause, and I just thank the Lord (again, seriously!) that no adult has come knocking on the door demanding to know what is wrong with their child. At first I ignore the buzz, thinking it to be a part of my imagination, when it continues and I finally pull my phone from my pocket, right after my turn. It's Justin trying to FaceTime me, and I chuckle at the name I have for him in my contacts. While I'm stuck with 'Love Song' on his phone, he's 'Beautiful Stranger' on mine. Not exactly cringe worthy to him unfortunately. "What up?" I ask, flipping the camera shot so that the first thing Justin sees is the table scattered with Uno cards and not so skilled children. Teaching Uno is a true task of patience...
"What the hell?" I hear Justin say, and I quickly turn the phone camera back to me to scold him, praying nobody heard him except me. "Watch your mouth braniac," I say, nodding to the G rated audience before me. "Oh, sorry. Where are you?" he asks, and I lift my phone up and spin it slowly around the room once. "Church?It's Wednesday." I have to be told it's my turn again, and then help the kid beside me place down a yellow card with a yellow card, or draw a card, when my explanation doesn't make any sense. "Yay, somebody knows their days of the week," I goof, and Justin gives me that look that says I'm not funny. I pout my lips to show my innocence, but get called out when one of the Tibbles asked me what's wrong with my face. Justin thinks this is hilarious. "Imma get you later, okay?" I threaten, and Justin turns even more red. "No! It's my TURN," a little girl with wooden beads in her hair screeches to another girl who is trying to look at her hand. "Later," I sigh, and end the video call.
YOU ARE READING
Hello August, Please Be Good To Me
Teen FictionI look out into the parking lot and squint to make sure I'm not going crazy. Walking up with a bouquet of flowers is Justin. He's wearing a muscle tee, and my eyes settle on the part of his tattoo that's not covered up by the plastic holding the flo...
