I’M SO TIRED OF BEING SCARED
Abby pulled herself together and invited Nancy to check out the plants. Rob announced that Abby would help the children make gardens and a forest to go with the play city. “Tell us, Abby,” he said. “How do we begin?” The children’s eyes all turned to her.
“Will it be okay if we all dig some soil and get our hands dirty?” she asked.
A chorus of voices agreed. Abby noticed that Ned and Nancy were unsure, so she said no one had to dig if they didn’t want to.
Carrying the trays for the plants they trooped out the back door to the mulch pile. The children gathered round as Abby pushed leaves aside and opened up a hole to the dark earth. Lucy pointed, yelling, “A worm! A centipede!”
“Let me see, let me see!” shouted others.
“The soil animals don’t want us to touch them,” Abby said. “We only look at them and let them hide from us. They are good for the soil and good for plants.”
They began scooping out handfuls of the rich deep brown earth and filling the trays. All seven children took a turn. Abby decided to hurry the process along, and asked Rob to bring the plants and a pair of scissors outside. He nodded and hurried back to the house.
Abby asked for volunteers to bring the trays out onto the open grass. Six children raised their hands, and helped each other carry the three trays of soil. Ned followed along with Abby.
“You don’t want to carry a tray?” she said very softly.
Ned turned to her. “I might spill. Then you’d be mad.”
“No, I won’t be mad. I promise.”
“The others think I’m stupid.” Ned’s voice was hopeless, as if his problems had been going on a long time.
“Everyone worries about that,” Abby told him. “Watch. One of them will spill, and I won’t be mad. No one is stupid. And no one is perfect all the time.”
As if on cue, a corner of a tray slipped out of Tiny’s hand, the flimsy plastic tray bent, and soil began spilling out onto the grass.
They met Rob on the open lawn. The plants looked glorious in the sun, now shining high in the cloudless sky. Birds were singing, and a warm breeze was blowing. Abby described the way the wandering jew and the philodendron grew in long chains divided into links by places where roots could grow. She made a few cuttings and passed them around. “See those tiny roots? If they are in wet soil, a new plant will grow.”
The rest of the morning ran smoothly. They left the trays outside, brushed off their clothes, and went inside to wash. Then they organized places for their gardens. Rob explained that the gardens were for the whole city. No one could own a tray for one house alone. They cleaned up most of the sand and leaves, rebuilt the houses, and went back outside to retrieve the trays. Rob congratulated them on their success. Abby played songs again until lunchtime.
As the children ate Rob took charge, and Rose signaled Abby to follow her into another room. ‘I’m so tired of being scared,’ she thought. ‘Every time one of these adults wants to talk to me alone, I go into a panic. I’m sick of it.’
Rose led her into a small living room with books and couches. “We have only a minute,” Rose told her. “I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have tried to bring up these issues this morning. That was my fault. It’s one of our primary rules not to discuss disagreements with parents or children present.”
Abby tried to feel sympathetic, but she felt no warmth in Rose’s apology. In fact, Rose seemed nervous, even frightened. Abby wondered why, and was unable to speak.
“That being said,” Rose went on, “I want to make it clear that Rob and I will take the lead on planning, purchasing materials, and dealing with any behavior problems.”
“Yes, I hear you, I certainly won’t do that again.” Abby could hardly get the words out.
Then Rose frowned and looked off into space. “And… I must tell you that there were more articles about you in the newspaper yesterday. I must request that you put a stop to this… bad publicity. It may cause problems for the school.” Rose could not look Abby in the eyes.
‘She can’t really believe I control the newpapers!’ thought Abby.
Rose stood up. “Unless you have any questions, we should be getting back to the group.”
In the kitchen Tom Winkle had joined Rob and the children. “I know just the spot!” Tom was saying. “Tomorrow will be another clear day, and I’ve got a wheelbarrow and plastic pots by the hundred.”
“Fabulous…” Rob was obviously thrilled. “It looks like we’ve got our forest!”