“Not to worry. It actually gave Dr. Shaw and me more time to discuss the ... situation.”
Emphasis on the last word struck all too familiar. It was the padded introduction Audra often used when delivering fatal news about a family’s beloved pet.
“Dr. Shaw’s joining us?”
“He is. Did I forget to mention that?” The oversight sounded genuine, her deportment casual, as she led the way to her office. Still, Audra had learned to be wary of surprises. She had come here expecting a routine update.
Ever since Devon’s death, Miss Lewis had been kind enough to keep tabs on Jack’s change of demeanor. She was one of the few reasons Audra had remained in the same district when switching from a house to an apartment last year.
They entered the room to find Dr. Shaw parked in one of the two visitors’ chairs. The school counselor wore thick black glasses, commonly known as geek-chic, and a skinny plaid tie that completed his look of a yearbook shot from the seventies. “Good morning,” he said with a smile crafted for disarming, resulting in the opposite effect.
“Is there a problem with Jack?” Audra asked.
Miss Lewis closed the door—a private conference. “We’d just like to talk to you about some concerns we have. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Ruling that impossible, Audra settled for taking a seat. She gripped her purse as the principal reclaimed her rolling chair. On the corner of the desk sat a cup of pencils with troll-like hair and wiggly eyes that stared back.
“I’m afraid we did have an incident this morning. Everyone is fine now”—Miss Lewis raised a reassuring palm—“but whenever a conflict becomes physical between students, it’s standard for us to alert the parents.”
Physical? Audra tamped the urge to demand who specifically had tried to hurt her son, already wanting to have a word with the child’s parents. “What happened?”
“In the middle of morning announcements, a couple of military jets roared past the area. There was a lot of noise and some shaking of the walls. Apparently Jack crawled under his desk. A girl tried to coax him out by pulling his arm, and that’s when Jack hit her in the face.”
Audra went speechless. She felt as if she, too, had been struck.
“The teacher agreed it was a result of circumstance, and not malicious in any way. Really, if it weren’t for other factors, I would’ve just told you this over the phone.”
Miss Lewis then gave the counselor a nod. The handoff of a baton. A cue in a vaudeville act before the damsel was sawed in half.
“Mrs. Hughes,” he said, “we’d like you to take a look at something.” He opened a red file folder, and more than its color reminded Audra of the lights on Jack’s shoes. “They’re from assignments in your son’s class. All of these are drawings he created just this week.”
Audra cringed inside while accepting the stack, though the subject matter came of no surprise. The picture on top featured an airplane in gray marker, diving toward the ocean. Orange flames sprayed from the wings. Smoke curled from the tail. A star adorned the side, like his model planes at home. It was no doubt the looping scene that haunted her son every night.
She flipped to the next sheet, and the next. Each depicted a similar crash, but with passengers in a plummet. A girl and a boy stick figure held hands in midair.
The illustrations grew more frenetic. Thicker lines. Jagged faces. Fiercer flames. It was the product of an angry artist, emotionally unstable.
She had to remind herself the artist was Jack, and with the thought came reason.
Their plane ride had been a traumatic one. His nightmares reflected this. Each episode required more time and effort to soothe him. He claimed to not remember a single thing the following mornings. Subconsciously, though, he had to be affected. This, too, would explain his cowering under a desk and the instinct to fight for that haven.
Audra confessed: “We experienced a bit of a problem with an airline trip last week.”
“Yes, of course.” Dr. Shaw was clearly aware. “We both agreed that’s where a lot of this was coming from.”
The media had withheld Jack’s name, being that he was a minor, but not Audra’s. Until now she had hoped the news had bypassed her local community.
“I’ll definitely talk to him when he gets home,” Audra said in conclusion. Contrary to ten minutes ago, she was now anxious to check out of the building. But Dr. Shaw wasn’t finished.
“I think you’ll want to take a look at the next picture first.”
Audra felt her reaction being monitored, analyzed. She aimed for a neutral expression as she revealed the image.