It was the last day of school before Christmas break. The children had just finished celebrating with their classmates, eating candy and decorating ornaments. A great time was had by all.
The first-graders were allowed fifteen minutes of free time to alleviate some of their sugar-fueled energy.
The door to the playground flung open, out walked Ms. Bigsby – her hair was long and black, tinted with coarse gray. Her nose stretched to the limit like Pinocchio’s after a lie, a storybook wart sat right on the tip. It gave all the kids the willies. “Recess is over!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. Her wiggling tonsils were visible from across the yard.
Sally and Barney sat close together on a wooden bench by the swings. Their little legs swayed back and forth not long enough to reach the ground. “We’d better go,” Barney put his candy cane down next to Sally’s, connecting the two to form a heart. “I hope Santa is good to you, Sally,” he jumped to the ground, twisting his ankle on impact. Tears formed in his eyes. “I can’t move.”
“I’ll get Ms. Bigsby,” Sally grabbed the red ball covered with jewels. She’d made it especially for Barney. She leaned down, gave it to him, then kissed his forehead. “Merry Christmas, Barney.”
“Ms. Bigsby, Barney’s hurt!” she ran towards the teacher.
“Go to class!” I’ll take the rodent to the office so he can call his mother.
Later that evening, Ms. Bigsby cackled as she stirred her giant pot of bubbling roux. Barney held tight to the black metal bars that held him prisoner in Ms. Bigsby’s secluded cabin. “I want my mommy,” he cried.
“There’s no place like home for the holiday’s.” Ms. Bigsby sang along with a small FM radio she kept on the mantle next to her spices.
Leesa Writes 