"Lilies"
A Short Story By Lo Brewer
A Hemerocallis lilioasphodelus cultivar growing in Venezuela © Paolo Costa Baldi/Wikipedia Commons
I walked past a house today that reminded me of one I used to live in. It had blue shutters, a white picket fence, and lilies lining the wrap around porch. I stood on the sidewalk staring up at the house and thinking about the third grade. I hadn’t thought about that year in a long time. It was the last year we were all in that house together. It was supposed to be the best year ever.
I remember that as a child in the weeks leading up to the third grade, I was filled with an unparalleled level of excitement. Most kids aren’t excited about school, but I wasn’t most kids. I loved learning and I loved even more showing off what I learned. Part of the third-grade curriculum involved multiplication and division, cursive writing, and book reports. All of this felt like ‘big kid’ stuff, stuff I was sure I’d excel at.
One of the most exciting things about the third grade had to do with my new teacher, Miss Stein. She had been a teacher’s aide for my kindergarten class. I always liked her. There was something sunny and sweet about her that made her the perfect candidate to be surrounded by children all day. She had this uncanny ability to make you feel ike you were the best, most special person in the room. So when we got a note in the mail with class assignments on it, and my mother recognized her name and told me, I was absolutely delighted. Yes, third grade was going to be amazing.
My father was unfazed by my announcement that I was going to have the nicest teacher ever in Miss Stein. He didn’t remember her from my kindergarten class. But he patronized me with a pat on the head and a “Good for you.”
On parent-teacher night, my mother went to the high school to meet with my brother’s teachers, while my father went to my school to meet with Miss Stein. They would have liked to go together. But for the first time since I’d been going to school, mine and Bo’s parent-teacher night was scheduled for the same date.
While they were gone, Bo bequeathed me his baseball card collection and his skateboard. He couldn’t give me his bike, he’d be using that to run away. He knew that our mother would come home less than pleased with his performance of just a few months in high school. So he was planning to get as far away from our house before she returned to deliver the news to our father.
When our parents came home, Bo was just getting around to getting his bike out of the garage. So they were able to stop him before he had a chance to flee. He was given a 2-month sentence of no video games, phone, or friends. He might as well have been grounded for life. Living without those things for more than a few days was pure torture for him.
Our father’s night went a lot better than Mom’s. He couldn’t stop raving about Miss Stein, how nice she was, and how much she loved having me in her class. He was excited about the projects that she’d lined up for our class for the upcoming year. So it was no surprise the next morning when he cut flowers from our garden for me to give to Miss Stein. He said it was to keep me in her good graces. I thought that was an excellent idea, at least at first.
Miss Stein loved the bouquet. She revealed to me that lilies were her favorite flower because her first name is Lily. I felt some odd kinship with her. Teachers weren’t real people and therefore didn’t have first names. But the fact that she shared something so personal (and frankly, impossible) made me feel like she and I were friends.
Almost immediately, Allen Quade zeroed in on me as the latest target of his bullying. The flowers drew unnecessary attention to me. After the first day I gave Miss Stein the flowers, Allen made it his business to interrupt their delivery. He would snatch the bouquet from my hands and step on it, or throw it in the trash. He called me a spoiled little rich girl because my parents had a house and a yard, from whence the flowers came. To avoid him, I had to resort to hiding in a janitor’s closet until the bell rang for us to line up for class in the morning.
Miss Stein found out about what Allen was doing and scolded him for it. She also sent a note home to both of our parents letting them know what was going on. My father had recently lost his job at an accounting firm and spent most days at home scouring the newspaper for jobs or tending to his garden.
“Jack, I need you to take care of this since I’ll be busy at work,” my mother said. She’d picked up extra shifts at the hospital since my dad was laid off and barely had time to do anything anymore.
“What is that supposed to mean Lisa? I don’t understand why you have to degrade me every chance you get,” he replied. He’d taken to spending most of his free time at home in the garden instead of looking for work.
“I’m not degrading you. I’m stating facts. Besides, you seem to like Miss Stein so much. I would think you’d be excited to go speak to her.”
“I do like her actually. At least she’s pleasant, which is more than I can say for you!”
The next day, my father drove me to school after carefully cutting and arranging a bouquet of lilies for Miss Stein. He told me to go play while he while he spoke to her. When the bell rung, all the children lined up at our designated spots and waited for the teachers to come out to take us into the school. Miss Stein walked out with my dad. They were both smiling and laughing. He winked at me and gave me a wave before walking to the car. Before I went home that day Miss Stein made sure to tell me what a special and brave little girl I was and how lucky I was to have a dad like mine.
Everywhere my mother turned, there was a reminder that my father wasn’t working. If it wasn’t the bills piling up at the door, it was his dirty shoes and gardening tools left strewn about the back pork or the worn arm of the chair that he sat in for hours on end when he wasn’t in the garden. She gave him grief for not having a job and spending all her ‘hard earned money on fertilizer and other shit.’ I’m sure the pun was intended. Bo didn’t like him being there either. When he was at the firm, he’d stay late at the firm several nights a week. But now that he was home he could better regulate Bo’s curfew. But I was different. I liked having him at home. Since he was home all day he could drop me off and pick me up from school. And he could deliver flowers to Miss Stein himself. That meant that I was free to play on the playground before classes started as opposed to hiding in the janitor’s closet.
So while things at school were getting better, home was a different story. My mother was barely there and when she was, she and my father hardly spoke unless it was to exchange unpleasantries. School, ironically, became my solace. And I was extra excited when Miss Stein asked me to join the after-school tutor program because it meant less time spent at home.
Tutoring occurred after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Every student tutor had one student in their grade to work with and you’d meet with your tutee once a week. I picked Tuesday afternoons. I was really excited about tutoring partly because I was helping someone, but mostly because I could show off how smart I was. But I was disappointed when on the first day of tutoring, Allen walked into the gym/cafeteria/auditorium in our school and sat down across the table from me.
He greeted me by calling me PeePee Penelope or Pissy Penny or some other horrible nickname he’d come up with for me. Seriously, you wet yourself on a field trip to Turtleback Zoo once in Kindergarten and you never live it down. I threatened to tell on him. Miss Stein and my father were sitting at a table near the door talking. All it would take was one word from me and Allen would be in big trouble.
“If you tell Miss Stein, I’ll put boogers on you, and shove your face in the toilet and then I’ll…I’ll,” he lowered to a whisper at this point, “I’ll punch you in the vagina.”
All three punishments seemed particularly vicious, especially the last one. And while I was fairly certain that Allen wasn’t totally clear on what a vagina actually was, I didn’t need verification.
Even though I didn’t say a word about Allen’s insults, he continued to torment me regardless. During tutoring sessions, he forced me to do his homework for him while he covered my arms with boogers he’d picked and rolled especially for this purpose and kicked me under the table. All of this occurred while our teacher and my father sat across the room talking.
One day in the middle of one of our sessions, Allen came up with yet another one of his bright ideas. We had a multiplication test coming up. And he surmised that something would be amiss if his homework was always done perfectly, but he failed the test. So he suggested I let him cheat off of me.
“Piss, it’ll be so easy. I already sit next to you. All you have to do is not cover up your paper like the big fucking nerd you are.”
“Come on Allen, please don’t make me do this. What if we get caught?”
“We won’t get caught. And if we do, you won’t get in trouble. Besides, of you don’t do it I’ll…”
“I know, I know, punch me in the vagina.”
“That’s right, big ol’ vadge punch will be coming your way.”
The day of the big test came and I was so nervous I felt ill. I sat there contemplating putting the wrong answers down just so that Allen would fail. But that would be denying my own intellect and I couldn’t do that. Cheating I could do…but lying, somehow that was a problem for me.
So I let him copy all my answers until we got to the end of the test. I covered my paper for the last two answers. He kept trying to get my attention to tell me to stop. But I refused to look his way. Then he kicked me so hard that I yelped in pain. That was when Miss Stein caught us. She called us up to her desk and took a look at our tests. She immediately knew what was going on. She said she would be sending notes home to our parents. I nearly died right there on the spot. I couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day. I knew my mother would be upset that I cheated. And I knew my father would be upset that I’d made Miss Stein angry.
At the end of the day, I was the last one to leave the class room. I knew that I’d have to retrieve the dreaded letter from Miss Stein. And I knew I’d then have to give said letter to my parents. I don’t know how long I’d been standing in the closet with my head down when she called me over to her desk.
“Penny, can I talk to you for a second?” she asked. I nodded without looking directly in her eyes.
“Penny sweetie, although I’m disappointed in you for letting Allen cheat off of you, I’m not angry. I just want to know why you would let him do that?”
Something inside me broke. I could no longer contain all the emotions I’d bottled up for weeks. So I burst into tears and told her everything. I told her about Allen’s threats and terror. I told her about being teased by my classmates who thought I was rich and a smarty pants. And I told her I was scared to make her upset because I knew my father would be angry if I did so.
She sat quietly listening and when I was done, she wiped my tears away.
“Penny, sometimes life is tough, even for 9-year-olds. You could have told me or your dad what was going on. I wouldn’t have been upset with you. I only want the best for you. And I’m sure your father wouldn’t be angry either. He’s probably still sad because your mom’s not around.”
“You know about that?” I was shocked that she knew the ins and outs of my home life. But my father spent so much time talking to her that it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all.
“Yes, your dad told me. Your mother, she passed away some time ago, right? And your poor father, having to raise you and your brother on his own.”
“Passed away? Wha…what are you saying?”
Her face changed. She went from looking at me with sympathy to sheer confusion. Then she looked at the door where my father was standing.
“Hey Penny, what you doin’ here so late? It’s not Tuesday. I was outside waiting for you,” he said.
“It’s my fault Jack, I mean Mr. Williams. Penny was helping me with the spring bulletin board and time just got away from us.” She lied.
“Oh, I see. Well come on then Penny. And I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” he said to Miss Stein with a twinkle in his eye.
“No, I’m sorry Mr. Williams but we have the spring standardized tests coming up in a few months and all of us teachers will be coming in early to prep for administering them. So your visits will have to stop,” she said. Then she looked me square in the eyes as she put the letter addressed to my father only, in her desk drawer.
When I left with my father that day I remember feeling so strange. I didn’t understand quite what had transpired in those last few moments with Miss Stein but I knew that something had changed. From then on everything would be different.
Since Miss Stein no longer wanted my father to visit her in the morning he would send flowers with me. She would always take them with a smile, but it was the kind of smile you gave kids when they drew a crappy picture for you. She also terminated his after-school time with her. And she removed me from the tutoring program as a way to limit my time with Allen.
Eventually the bouquets stopped, and life was as normal as it could be. My father had stopped bringing me to school at my request. Instead my brother would walk me to and from school. Somehow that seemed easier, better.
On the last day of school, I snuck out and cut some lilies for Miss Stein. I wanted to give her something from me to show her how much I loved being in her class. I hid them in my bookbag, so Bo wouldn’t see them and tease me about it. And I kept them there until the end of the day so none of the other students saw them. But when I pulled them out to present them to her they were wilted. This set off unexplainable, uncontrollable tears.
“I just wanted to give you something! I just wanted to give you something from ME! Something he hadn’t touched! Something he hadn’t ruined! But it’s all ruined!” I screamed.
She grabbed me, almost impulsively, and pulled me into her. She didn’t say anything. She just held me as I cried.
After that year nothing was the same. Miss Stein didn’t come back to teach. My parents split up and Bo and I went to live with mom in an apartment. My dad eventually got back on his feet. But he never planted a garden at the house again. There were no more lilies for him.
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