"Just call me Leo, alright?!"
I knew who was in my office before I even turned around. It was my favorite decidedly disgruntled kindergartener. His name was Kevin Williamson and even though he looked like an average five year old, inside, he was really an 80 year old man that was royally pissed off...but, somehow, he passed for a little kid day in and day out.
One of his favorite things to do was to "officially" change his name. He'd announce to his classmates and teachers that he would like to be called "Troy" or "Bob" and it would take a few weeks, but eventually everyone would switch over to the new name. Ar first adults balked at the idea of calling a child by an incorrect name, but after a while his persistance paid off. No one even bothered to argue with him anymore. When people would try to call him Kevin, he would ignore them or belittle them as if they were the ones that were mistaken, not him.
One day when Kevin was in my room, it was pretty hectic. The room was comparable in size to a one-seater bathroom at a Circle K and there were six five year old boys squeezed around a narrow table that was a little bigger than an ironing board.
The session was a whirlwind. After everyone was gone, I gathered their papers and as I picked up the last one, I noticed that there were black crayon marks on what had once been a clean table. I angled my head until I was able to read what it said.
The first thing I saw was: LEO Then, underneath it in smaller letters was: FUK
SHIT
BICH
BALLS
A small chuckle escaped me, and I realized I wasn't even mad. I was impressed! You had to hand it to the kid, he didn't just dabble in graffiti, he was a PRO. From what I could tell, he had written down every curse word he knew...and he did it while sitting less than two feet away from a teacher?!
Now THAT took some balls. (No wonder he wrote that word last...it was true. He DID have balls...)
The best part was when I called him back in to ask him about it, he didn't even look concerned that he was getting in trouble. He just looked incredibly annoyed that I had interupted his recess. (I almost felt like I should be apologizing to him for pulling him away from the meeting he'd been having with what appeared to be a small group of protege`s from the first grade).
"Kevin..." He threw a hand up and in an exasperated tone said, "It's LEO."
"Right. See that's the thing, LEO." I emphasized the last word pointedly. "I need you to come to my office with me. There's something I'm a little confused about, and I thought you might be able to provide me with some answers."
He shrugged and followed me back. When we were both standing in front of the defaced table, I pointed down at the words between us. (Leo, fuck, shit, bitch, balls) He, too, directed his attention to the scribbled profanity.
Neither of us spoke. I was waiting for him to break down; admit guilt. I had, after all, caught him red-handed. Several minutes ticked by and still we stood, silently studying Kevin's handiwork. I was sticking to my original plan: I would play dumb and wait until he confessed. I felt it meant more if the kid was able to recognize his own wrongdoings rather than have me point it out to him (I was watching a lot of Dr. Phil at the time).
"Leo, do you see this table?"
He nodded.
"I have to tell you...I'm pretty upset."
He looked at me for a moment, then back down at the table. He was getting close. I almost had him. What a life lesson this one would be!
I decided to give him one more nudge. "I just don't understand this." I gestured toward the words. "Can you help me?"
Kevin sighed and looked up at the ceiling as he raked his fingers through his hair.
He didn't seem very happy.
I figured he was feeling stressed because he knew it was OVER. The jig was UP. He probably figured he was in for it now. I almost felt a little sorry for him. I took in his wrinkled forehead and wringing hands. Aw...poor guy. He must be anxious about possibly losing privleges or candy and prizes.
I horribly misjudged him.
When he finally opened his mouth, he used the same tone my mother had reserved for the moments she could not bear to be pestered any longer, like when she'd been trying to finish dinner or organize bills.
"Miss Orth." He paused, pushing the palms of his hands down on either side of the evidence as if he were a district attorney making his opening remarks to a grand jury.
I sat quietly, anticipating my apology. I was planning to make him clean the table himself, but first he'd have to tell his teacher why he was going to be in my office when...
"Look, I was in the middle of something out there." Kevin throws his right arm in the direction of the playground. "I can explain what these words mean, but it will have to be later. I'm just too busy right now..."
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