Teacher's Aide

"And let me know if I can help with anything," Doug told him before they shook hands again.

Pete turned to leave when Doug said, "Oh. Have you met Mike yet?"

Pete started laughing, and as soon as he did, Doug roared.

"I take it you have!"

"Oh, yeah. Let's just say we've 'run into each other' a couple of times already."

"Okay. So you don't need me to give you a 'heads up' then."

"No. I pretty much broke the code during our first encounter."

Doug laughed again then said a little more quietly, "I call him Mr. One-Upper."

Pete gave him a puzzled look so Doug explained.

"Oh, you haven't seen that part of him yet, huh? Well, you have something to look forward to then. Let's just say...if you've climbed Mount Everest, Mike's pole-vaulted over it. With one hand."

Pete laughed again then told him about the 'you must be a gunny' encounter.

"That's Mike. He's got this need to be the Big Dog at all times. Which is funny because he's..."

Doug made sure no one else could hear as he said, "A short shit."

Doug was at least six-feet tall, too, and Mike was probably about 5' 8" and maybe a buck fifty—soaking wet.

"He was testing the waters with you," Doug added.

He leaned closer again then said, "That's the kind of 'dick dance' he does with everyone about everything. No matter what you've done, he's done it better, smarter, or faster."

"Well, forewarned is fair warned, right?" Pete replied.

Doug laughed again then said he needed to get going.

"Right. Unlike me you actually work for a living, don't you?" Pete said.

Doug stopped, smiled, then said, "Diane told me you were an officer. But because I like you, I'm not gonna you sh...grief...about me working for a living."

Pete laughed, too, then said, "Okay, fine. But I could say the same thing after you made chief."

Doug roared again, pointed at Pete, then said, "Oh, yeah. We're gonna get along quite well."

Pete told him he agreed then said, "As far as who we used to be, the key words are 'used to'. Now we're just..."

It was his turn to lean in as he said, "Joe Shit the rag man."

Doug roared a third time then shook hands one more time.

"You're all right, Pete."

"For a Jarhead, right?"

"Hey, I can tell good people when I meet 'em," Doug said as he waved before leaving the building.

Diane was in Chelsea's room by the time he got back there himself, and he wondered what he'd done wrong when he saw her crying.

"Oh, here he is now," Diane said who had a hand on Chelsea's shoulder.

She turned to Pete and said, "I think someone is very grateful."

"Oh. I'm...I'm glad," Pete said, visibly relieved those were tears of joy.

"These stairs are a real challenge, and I should have insisted on moving her. I'm just glad you took the initiative. I came up here to let Chelsea know and to apologize for not pressing the issue myself."

No one said a word so Diane excused herself and again told them to call if she could help.

"Are you okay?" Pete asked once they were alone.

"Yes. Sorry. I...I get emotional very easily now, and when I heard I was moving downstairs and it was because of you, I just..."

There were some tissues just out of her reach so he grabbed the box and set them next to her.

"Thank you," she said before grabbing one. "It's been a real challenge for me trying to adjust to my new life. Such as it is."

"I can only imagine," he told her sympathetically.

"Well, you, too. I just feel so sorry for you," Chelsea said as she dried her eyes.

Almost immediately, the smile was back as Pete explained what he planned to do.

"What's most important to me is making sure you have everything you need to continue your planning. So if at any time you need something you just let me know, okay?"

Chelsea smiled then said, "I have no idea why you, of all people, are here doing a job...excuse me for saying this, Pete, but...so far beneath you."

He didn't say anything knowing she had something else to say.

She looked right at him then said, "As Diane said, I'm just very grateful you are."

Pete was able to finish moving both teachers but it took a lot longer than he'd anticipated because Ms. Bonaro was a no-kidding pack rat.

Long after the last teacher left campus, Doug stopped by and offered to stay late and help him. Pete thanked him but refused the offer, but he did need a favor in order to stay once the last custodian went home.

Specifically, that meant Doug trusting someone he barely knew with the key to the main gate, which Pete made sure to lock on his way out. He also showed up at 6am when Doug started work the following morning and handed him the key when he drove up.

"Thanks, shipmate," the retired Marine said to the retired sailor.

"Anytime, Marine," Doug told him. "You goin' home and coming back?"

"No, I'll just stay here and find something to do until Chelsea gets in."

"Why am I not surprised?" Doug said with a laugh as he unlocked the gate.

"But I will need you to let me into the room."

"You don't have your own key yet? Follow me."

Doug opened the office then opened the assistant principal's door and finally opened a box that had all of the school's keys in it that hadn't yet been handed out.

Doug held out the single, gold key and said, "There you go."

As he walked to his new classroom, Pete thought back on all of various assignments he'd had over the years to include command of a Marine regiment with just over 2,000 Marines at his beck and call. Now here he was feeling good about getting his own key to a room that wasn't even his so he could walk kids he hadn't yet met around a campus he still wasn't familiar with.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," he said quietly with a chuckle as he unlocked the door and turned on the lights.

Chelsea needed to be there by 8 o'clock so at 7:45 Pete went out to the parking lot and waited for her to arrive. When he saw her pull in he smiled and waved at her then walked over to her car. Once she turned it off, he opened her door and told her 'good morning'.

His presence was met with a warm, genuine smile, and a, "Good morning to you, too, Pete!"

He watched her slowly and painfully lift and turn her legs to get out of the car and noticed she winced several times. Once her feet were on the ground, she pulled out her cane and opened it up.

"Here. Let me help," he said as he moved closer to let her use an arm for support.

She put her left hand on top of it but still struggled to stand up. Pete slid his hand under her armpit and lifted her. His first thought was she was light as a feather, and his second was how horrible he felt for her having endured so much avoidable pain at such a young age.

"Thank you," she said, still smiling once she was standing up.

Chelsea took two steps, and once she was clear of the door, Pete said, "I got it," and shut it for her.

She took one slow painful step before he caught up then said, "Would you be embarrassed to let an old man lend you an arm?"

"No. Not at all," she told him.

She put her free arm in his and rested her hand on top of his forearm then said, "Especially if the old-er man is such a gentleman."

Pete smiled then said, "You forgot 'dashingly handsome'."

Chelsea laughed a genuine laugh, looked up at him and said, "I was thinking...roguishly handsome...but, okay!"

By the time they got to their classroom, Chelsea was out of breath.

"So how did you ever get up those stairs?" he asked as he opened the room door for her.

"Well, I'd stand there for a couple of minutes catching my breath then go up one step, catch my breath again, then go one more."

There really wasn't anything for Pete to say, but Chelsea did thank him again for moving her downstairs.

"Well, that was Diane. I couldn't have made it happen without her," he tried saying.

"Yes, but had you not pushed her, she wouldn't have done it. I love Diane, but she hates conflict. Any and all conflict. She'll placate a parent to avoid suspending a child then placate the teacher when asked why the kid is still in school."

"Oh, wow. Yeah, that wouldn't have worked well in my former life."

Chelsea laughed again as he helped her get to her desk. She thanked him one more time then said, "You were in the Marines, right?"

Pete didn't tell her that Marines never said 'in the Marines'. They said, "I was a Marine, I was in the Marine Corps, or 'in the Corps' but never 'in the Marines'."

"Yes. Yes, I was."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"I did. Not every single day, of course, but yes, I really did enjoy it."

"That's wonderful. I really admire those who serve in the military and as first responders. I've also enjoyed teaching since my first day in the classroom. Everything was always about the kids and getting the best lesson plan possible so they'd not only learn but have fun doing it."

"Has that changed?" Pete asked rather gingerly.

She thought for a moment then said, "I don't know. I still love being here, and I'm excited about the kids coming in on Monday. It's just so much more difficult, you know? If not for my mom watching Bryce, this might be too hard to do now."

She smiled again then added, "I would also say that without your help this would be impossible to do."

She saw the way Pete was looking at her so she asked him if there was something he wanted to say.

"No. It's none of my business," he said with a smile.

"No. I want you to be ask me. We're going to be stuck in this little room five days a week until the end of May, so we need to be able to talk to each other, don't you think?"

Pete smiled again then told her, "Good point."

"So...ask me," she repeated, smiling back at him.

"Okay. I was wondering if your husband is still involved in your life. More specifically, I guess, I'm talking about with regard to your son."

Her smiled disappeared and Chelsea looked away causing Pete to feel like he'd crossed a line in spite of what she'd just said.

"Hey. That's okay. You probably have things for me to do anyway, right?"

"I do, but I want to answer your question," she told him as she looked back up at him.

Pete waited for her to collect herself then Chelsea tried to answer him.

"He uh, he felt...overwhelmed by everything. He wasn't wild about having a child so soon after getting married, but sometimes things happen, you know? I wasn't ready, either, but once I found out I was pregnant, my attitude changed completely, and I wanted this baby more than anything. Then on top of that, there was the problem that caused all of this, and on top of that there were medical bills on top of medical bills. So about four months after Bryce was born, Dennis, my husband, told me he needed some space."

"Space. Okay," Pete said trying not to let sarcasm creep in.

"I was in physical therapy five days a week, he'd already missed a ton of work, and I wasn't getting paid beyond the unemployment money that ran out after a year. Anyway, he moved out and I was absolutely devastated. My mom and dad were furious, but I convinced them not to confront him, and they convinced me to move back in with them. A few months later, Dennis's need for 'space' turned into being served papers notifying me he was filing for divorce, and I had no interest in contesting it. So now I'm 28 years old, have a two-year son, can barely walk, and owe close to...well, a ton in medical bills."

"May I ask another personal question?" Pete said.

"Sure."

"Are you by any chance suing the doctor or the hospital?"

"I do have an attorney, yes. She agreed to take me on on a contingency basis. So far, she's filed the suit against both the doctor and the hospital, but we're nowhere near a trial date or a settlement. She keeps gathering information while the hospital keeps trying to put up roadblocks, and the doctor isn't allowed to talk to us. So while that's a long answer to a short question, it's the best I have."

"I'm sure you're already tired of getting sympathy from everyone, so I'll quit saying how sorry I am," Pete began.

"Thank you. I really am 'up to here' with all the 'I'm so sorry comments' even though I'm sure they're sincere."

"I understand. I went through something similar with Gayle's passing."

"I guess that's better than being told 'sucks to be you', right?" Chelsea said surprising Pete and causing him to laugh.

She laughed, too, and for the first time, he saw her not as someone who was quasi-disabled but as a caring person with the same needs as everyone else along with a warm smile and a very pleasant sense of humor.

When she smiled, he couldn't help but think she was actually kind of...pretty...in a way he couldn't quite explain. Pretty was such a broad, generic term that it could mean almost anything, but he really did think the word applied in her case. Then again, he was here working for her so how she looked was irrelevant.

"So could you take care of that for me, please?" he heard Chelsea say.

He was obviously somewhere else, lost in his thoughts, when she asked him to do something.

"My apologies...boss," he said with a smile. "What was that?"

"Boss. That's funny," she told him. "I was saying we need copies of every story in the little cubbies in the back of the room."

Pete remembered moving the lattice work of boxes downstairs and now knew exactly what she meant.

"Okay. How many of each?"

"Well, we have five classes a day times...let's say 25 kids...plus maybe five extras? Each?"

Like many women, Chelsea tended to 'give orders' in the form of questions. Pete knew she was telling him to make 150 copies of each story. That wasn't the hard part. What was the fact that there were roughly 50 stories and, if they were just one page in length, still that added up to, well, a lot of copies.

"Do we have that much paper?" he asked.

"Um, no. But it's never been an issue. You just go to the copy room and print them. When the reams of paper get low, we tell Diane and she orders more."

"Isn't there some way to do that many copies that doesn't involve one person taking up a machine for what will be a very long time?"

"No, not really. And the last day before kids arrive is usually pretty crazy in the copy room so you could be waiting for a while. But I don't see another alternative. Do you?" she asked.

"Well...I do have an idea," he told her as he got up and went to the back of the room.

He grabbed the cleanest copy he could find of each story, some of which were several pages long which now upped the total by hundreds of extra copies.

"Do you need me to do anything else before I get started on these?" he asked once he had what he needed.

"Um...no. Not now anyway. But when you get back, we need to make up name cards for each student. I set them out in alphabetical order on the first day, and that makes getting them seated easier, and it also helps me remember their names. Once I memorize a name, I take the card away. In the past, that would be 2-3 days max for all five classes. This year, I'm very concerned because my short-term memory is still nowhere near what it used to be."

"Got it. Let me get working on these, and...oh. Do we have enough 3 x 5 cards or whatever you're thinking about using?" he asked.

"Dang it!" he heard her say. "You see? That's exactly what I'm talking about. I meant to have my mom pick those up yesterday and completely forgot about it. Even talking it about it just now I had no idea I didn't have them here in the classroom until you asked."

"No worries. I'll take care of it," he told her with a smile.

"The school doesn't provide those, I'm afraid. So I'll have to pick them up tonight. It's no big deal," she said, also with a smile.

Pete looked at his watch then told her he'd be back in less than half an hour.

"Um, unless you're a magician, you're going to need a lot longer than that."

Pete laughed then said, "I'm not a magician, but I am going to work a little magic."

He started to walk away and saw Chelsea watching him.

"Okay. If you say so," she told him.

"Oh, I do say so," he said back with an even bigger smile.

"Uh-huh. You'll learn," she said sweetly.

Ten minutes later, Pete was at an Office Max located just two blocks from the school and in less than five minutes, he had the order completed and paid for along with several packs of 3 x 5 cards.

"You can come back and pick these up anytime after noon today," the young woman who helped him told her.

"All right. Thank you very much. I'll see you then," Pete said.

When he walked back into the classroom, Chelsea looked at the wall clock then at his hands which were empty except for a bag from the store she'd often used herself.

He set the bag down then asked if she had the class rosters so he could start on the name tags. Which weren't tags but folded 3 x 5 cards.

"Did you take all those copies off campus?" she asked as she handed him the rosters.

"I did," he told her.

"Um, do you have any idea how much that's going to cost?"

Pete laughed as he answered her.

"I not only have an idea, I have the exact amount right here."

He pulled that receipt, which was in the bag with the cards and flashed it as he sat down to get started on the next task.

"Pete? I can't afford to pay for copies anymore. I used to do that myself all the time. But now..."

"You're not paying for anything," he told her with a smile as he opened the first pack of index cards.

"Wait. Did you somehow get Diane to agree to pay for those?" she asked, the disbelief in her voice audible.

"No. I didn't ask her," he replied as he got out the list for their 1st-period class.

"Then she's not going to pay for them. And I can't pay for them," Chelsea, the disbelief turning to worry.

"No. It's already taken care of," he told her as he began carefully folding cards in half.

"Wait. How is it taken care of?" she asked.

He looked up at her, smiled, then said, "You see, I have this thing called a credit card. It's pretty amazing. You just hand it to someone and they give you stuff or tell you it's taken care of."

"Hah, hah," Chelsea said flatly. "Pete. You can't be spending that kind of money on stuff for my classroom!"

"Oh, I thought it was...our classroom," he said pretending to be hurt.

"Stop!" she said once she knew he was teasing. "Yes, it is ours, but you can't be spending that much money. I know you have a pension or something, but I also know people in the military don't make very much money. I've heard many times it's less than what teachers make, and we make...well, not a lot."

As someone considered a 4th-year teacher with a bachelor's degree, Chelsea made just over $42,000 a year. Dennis paid child support, and she no longer had a mortgage payment, but between her car, food, gas, insurance, clothing, and the endless medical bills, she was in a sea of red ink.

His last year on active duty, Pete's base pay alone was just shy of $8,600 a month. In addition he got a housing allowance of $2,500 a month or base housing at no cost plus additional money for food. He and Gayle had socked a way a ton over the years, and when she died, Pete collected an additional $100,000 from a policy they'd paid on for since he was a first lieutenant.

He owned his home and Jeep outright and had more money than he'd ever be able to spend, especially considering how he never went anywhere or did anything. So a couple of hundred dollars was chump change.

"I get by," he told her quietly. "Financially speaking. So don't give it another thought, okay?"

"I can't help but think about it, Pete. That's my responsibility, and I can't pay for it."

"Then I'll think of some other way you can pay me back. Deal?"

When he smiled at her, Chelsea's cheeks turned slightly red and she looked away immediately.

"Did...did I give you all five class rosters?" she asked as she quickly shuffled through the stack of papers on her rather messy desk.