Grand Scheme

Our mats are on the ground. I clutched Mabel The Chimpanzee as Mackie rummaged through her threadbare backpack.

Mackie: I dunno where Blankie is.

Me: I dunno. I don’t see it.

Mackie: Someone took it. MS. GRETCHEN, SOMEONE TOOK BLANKIE.

Ms. Gretchen pulls her face from the papers on her desk and gives Mackie a solemn I’m-Done-With-This-Bull**** stare.

Mackie: MS. GRETCHEN—

Ms. Gretchen: Yeah, alright, just gimme a minute here, Mackenzie.

Mackie: SOMEONE STOLE MY BLANKIE.

Ms. Gretchen: Alright, AlrIGhT, just be quiet a minute.

I give up on Mackie and the blankie dilemma and lay flat on my mat.

Mackie: mmS. GrEtChEnn…

I began tossing up Mabel up, just below the desks. I was an active child, and I was getting the itch to move.

Ms. Gretchen: My golly, Mackenzie, what is the problem.

Mackie: I found my blankie.

Mabel was reaching greater and greater heights; within a few seconds I had her soaring above the desks.

Ms. Gretchen: Thank goodness, Mackenzie. Alright, everyone, time to be quiet. We’ll get our movement in during recess right after this, so please, please just be still until nap time is up.

With avid concentration and a rush of adrenaline, I was propelling Mabel into the air with a force I wouldn‘t have imagined possible. When Mackie settled in next to me, she gave a little “oh”, the type indicating one has recognized and is appreciative of a very good idea.

Ms. Gretchen: ALEXANDRA K—

Mabel came crashing down, un-caught. Ragged breathing and heart shaking, my sense quickly entered fight-or-flight mode. I was a goody-two-shoes, teacher-pet-with-a-dash-of-selective-mutism type kid. The kid where any and all forms of punishment were the Anti-Christ of my very being.

Ms. Gretchen: —NO THROWING THINGS IN MY CLASS. 5 MINUTES ON THE BENCH AT RECESS.

I kept my gaze averted from Mackie, in shame. We, without speaking, chose silence. Mackie slept, but I was not a sleeper-child. Even in my youth, perhaps more so, my brain was a rapid transit system of interactive and busy thoughts.

My thoughts: I would not be subjected to such unfairness, I could not stand for such punishment. It was not fair, not at all. But I am timid. Talking back is unacceptable—I know this.

Mackie snored and drooled beside me.

My thoughts: I have a plan. It is brilliant, but will it work? That is the question.

Olivia: SHUT UP, AMELIA.

Ms. Gretchen: OLIVIA—

Olivia: She’s PUSHING me, Ms. Gretchen, it’s not me! It’s her, not me.

My thoughts: This is gonna work.

Ms. Gretchen: 10 minutes on the bench at recess, BOTH OF YOU.

My thoughts: We’re gonna have to sell it though. Really sell it.

All was silent for 4 minutes and 50 seconds. I assumed the nap position.

Giggling erupted from the front of the room. I recognized the giggle instantly.

Ms. Gretchen: Who is that?

The giggling ceased.

Ms. Gretchen: WHO WAS THAT?

Silence, once again, took control of the class.

Ms. Gretchen: Fine. But if it happens again, YOU WILL NOT GET RECESS. AT ALL.

My thoughts: We must play this right. Everything, perfect.

I allowed myself one more adjustment, and then assumed the most comfortable position. I relaxed my face, peaceful like death. Steady breathing, stillness.

The class was still scared of the threat of no recess. Silence prevailed.

After a lifetime of minutes—

Ms. Gretchen: Alright kiddo, nap time is over. GET UP, grab your mats and everything else and put it away. Only once your space is clear, you may exit for recess.

Footsteps patter in every direction.

My heart pumped with more adrenaline. But I remained in the perfect sleeping position (PSP) as kids thumped around me.

Mackie: Get up, Lex. It’s recess time!

It took strength, but I remained in PSP.

Ms. Gretchen: OLIVIA. AMELIA. DO NOT LEAVE THIS ROOM. Come here. Get over here and wait for me to get my things.

More kids tumbled out the door. Mackie gave up and began to put her things away.

Quiet began to take over the room as the echoes of children thumping dissipated. The door closed and only a few footsteps remained.

Amelia: What about her?

The footsteps halted for about a half a second.

Ms. Gretchen: Just leave her. She’s sleeping.

My thoughts: It worked. I have the victory. I AM VICTORIOUS.

The door closes as Olivia, Amelia, and Ms. Gretchen shuffle out of the room.

I waited a few minutes. Silence prevailed.

Slowly, I sat up. I smiled.

Me: We did it, Mabel. Ha ha, we did it.

Suddenly, the door whooshed open. I slammed down back into PSP.

Amelia: Ugh, I don’t see it.

Clanking, huffing and puffing came from the cubbyhole area of the classroom. After a minute, quick feet scrambled in the direction of the door. The door opens and closes again, and silence dominates once more.

My heart beats in terror.

My thoughts: That was a close call. We must be more careful. Much more careful.

My ears kept watch. I played with Mabel close to the mat, in the ready position for re-assuming PSP.

No more interruptions disturbed me and Mabel.

After some time, there were rumblings of shrieks, yammering, and giggles approaching.

Ms. Gretchen: Alright kids, LINE UP. LINE UP, EVERYONE. RECESS IS OVER.

The door pushed open. I was on the floor in PSP, prepared for the arrival. I did not awaken with the noise. There would be no indication of my deception. I was to be in the deepest slumber, through and through.

Kids rumbled and tumbled through the room. Backpacks were flung about, and excited yammering persisted. Through the noise, the fumbling and crinkle of papers could be detected.

Ms. Gretchen: Amelia? Can you hand these out to everyone?

Olivia: What? Why does she get to do it?

Ms. Gretchen: Because I said so.

Amelia: HA.

Olivia: That’s not fair! THAT’S NOT—

Ms. Gretchen: Just give her the damn papers, Amelia. Split them in half.

Amelia: That’s not fair! Why does she—

Ms. Gretchen: GIVE HER THE PAPERS. HALF. NOW.

Angry crinkling sounds were made.

A shadow appeared above me. I had been detected, at last.

Ms. Gretchen: Oh, my, she’s still sleeping is she?

There was a light tapping on my shoulder.

Ms. Gretchen: Alexandra…? Alexandra, nap time is up. You missed recess.

I arose, a gentle lifting of the head followed by a push with the arms. Eyes half-open. I angled my head upwards, the effects of adjusting to the light after an extended nap.

Me: Oh.

Ms. Gretchen: It’s time to get up now, Alexandra. We’re coloring now. Would you give her a paper, Olivia?

Olivia handed me a paper. Ms. Gretchen led me to my seat, and I sat.

I smiled.

Olivia saw me smile, turned to Amelia. Amelia furrowed her brow.

Amelia: I saw.

Ms. Gretchen: Stop talking and get to work, Amelia.

Amelia stared at me, transfixed.

I turned to my crayons and drawing.

And I smiled.

My most vivid first memory.

The scheme.