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Nov. 28th, 2017 08:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brooke_sandhuIt is sometimes a mistake to give children a floor and an audience. Miss Hebblethwaite most likely knew this, but nevertheless, she was always of the opinion that her... most challenging little pupil should have the same chance to behave as everyone else.
Perhaps, though she would never have admitted it out loud, she had a bit of a soft spot for naughty little Brooke. Perhaps, in secret in the staff room, the teachers had an informal bet on who would be the first to succeed with her. Perhaps it was suggested that Miss Havisham had once declared that she would hold off her retirement long enough to turn that 'cheeky little madam' into a good student. It wasn't that they were gloating over poor Miss Brimstone, who had struggled with Brooke last year, so much as a collective determination that between them, one of them ought to be able to out-stubborn the child.
Today's task is simple. To write something about your parent or guardian to tell the class.
Brooke can read. She can read so well that the very action of reading children's books out loud is boring. Who cares about Spot the Dog? Why doesn't Spot ever do anything interesting, like rip holes in someone's trousers? What's so special about Postman Pat? Has he never heard of email? It's about time this class hear something interesting for once. And so Brooke goes up to the front of the class, with her paper.
"'My Daddy is a great big wimp.'"
The class giggles with the uncertainty of children who aren't quite sure whether the reader is going to get into trouble or not, but is interested in finding out.
"That isn't very nice, Brooklyn." Miss Hebblethwaite prompts.
"It isn't, but it's true." Brooke says. "'My Daddy doesn't like anything fun, like making a big noise or making a big mess. He can't do sport or throw or kick a ball. He likes boring things like chess, or doing a su doku. He can't cook and when he tries to fix things he breaks them more. He's scared of fun things like dogs and heights and swimming.'"
"Thank you Brooke, that's enough." Miss Hebblethwaits says, as the class laughs. "Can't you think of anything nice to say about your father?"
***
"You're such a meanie." Tilly informs Brooke, when they go out to break. "I bet your daddy doesn't like you either."
"Well, nobody likes you." Brooke informs her back. "So you better watch out, or I'll teach you a lesson like I did last year."
Tilly goes red. Last year, she'd declared war on Brooke, and had told tales on her as often as possible to Miss Brimstone to get her in trouble. Brooke had come up with a cunning plan, and had started pretending she was doing something wrong, and then letting Tilly tell tales, and then being all innocent.
"You're a bully." Tilly says.
"Don't start fights you can't finish." Brooke pulls a face at her, before looking for her friend Alisha and bouncing over to her.
Tilly pouts, and looks around for someone she can beat in a battle. Her eye falls on another curly-haired person, who is sitting at the side of the playground playing with a tiny rag doll. Miss Brimstone won't let Gil bring his favourite angel dolly, Pretty, to school, because she's too big. But he's allowed to bring Dancey because he's smaller.
Mummy made Dancey, just as Gil asked, with curly hair and a blue tutu. Dancey is a bit flat but he fits in the book bag.
"Boys don't play with dolls, Girlbert." Tilly says, standing over him.
Gil looks up. "I do."
"You should give her to me." Tilly says. "It's my turn."
"No." Gil says, holding Dancey close. "And Dancey is boy."
Tilly makes a grab for Dancey, and catches the doll by the arm. It doesn't take much tugging for the arm to rip clean off.
"No!" Gil wails, clutching the rest of Dancey and starting to cry. Seeing the playground monitor look over, Tilly tosses the arm back to him.
"Your fault for not sharing." she says, making a swift exit.
Gil wipes his tears on his over-sized sleeves and puts the arm in his pocket. The playground monitor moves towards him, but is distracted by another child falling over on the way, and by the time she looks back over Gil has gone.
Perhaps, though she would never have admitted it out loud, she had a bit of a soft spot for naughty little Brooke. Perhaps, in secret in the staff room, the teachers had an informal bet on who would be the first to succeed with her. Perhaps it was suggested that Miss Havisham had once declared that she would hold off her retirement long enough to turn that 'cheeky little madam' into a good student. It wasn't that they were gloating over poor Miss Brimstone, who had struggled with Brooke last year, so much as a collective determination that between them, one of them ought to be able to out-stubborn the child.
Today's task is simple. To write something about your parent or guardian to tell the class.
Brooke can read. She can read so well that the very action of reading children's books out loud is boring. Who cares about Spot the Dog? Why doesn't Spot ever do anything interesting, like rip holes in someone's trousers? What's so special about Postman Pat? Has he never heard of email? It's about time this class hear something interesting for once. And so Brooke goes up to the front of the class, with her paper.
"'My Daddy is a great big wimp.'"
The class giggles with the uncertainty of children who aren't quite sure whether the reader is going to get into trouble or not, but is interested in finding out.
"That isn't very nice, Brooklyn." Miss Hebblethwaite prompts.
"It isn't, but it's true." Brooke says. "'My Daddy doesn't like anything fun, like making a big noise or making a big mess. He can't do sport or throw or kick a ball. He likes boring things like chess, or doing a su doku. He can't cook and when he tries to fix things he breaks them more. He's scared of fun things like dogs and heights and swimming.'"
"Thank you Brooke, that's enough." Miss Hebblethwaits says, as the class laughs. "Can't you think of anything nice to say about your father?"
***
"You're such a meanie." Tilly informs Brooke, when they go out to break. "I bet your daddy doesn't like you either."
"Well, nobody likes you." Brooke informs her back. "So you better watch out, or I'll teach you a lesson like I did last year."
Tilly goes red. Last year, she'd declared war on Brooke, and had told tales on her as often as possible to Miss Brimstone to get her in trouble. Brooke had come up with a cunning plan, and had started pretending she was doing something wrong, and then letting Tilly tell tales, and then being all innocent.
"You're a bully." Tilly says.
"Don't start fights you can't finish." Brooke pulls a face at her, before looking for her friend Alisha and bouncing over to her.
Tilly pouts, and looks around for someone she can beat in a battle. Her eye falls on another curly-haired person, who is sitting at the side of the playground playing with a tiny rag doll. Miss Brimstone won't let Gil bring his favourite angel dolly, Pretty, to school, because she's too big. But he's allowed to bring Dancey because he's smaller.
Mummy made Dancey, just as Gil asked, with curly hair and a blue tutu. Dancey is a bit flat but he fits in the book bag.
"Boys don't play with dolls, Girlbert." Tilly says, standing over him.
Gil looks up. "I do."
"You should give her to me." Tilly says. "It's my turn."
"No." Gil says, holding Dancey close. "And Dancey is boy."
Tilly makes a grab for Dancey, and catches the doll by the arm. It doesn't take much tugging for the arm to rip clean off.
"No!" Gil wails, clutching the rest of Dancey and starting to cry. Seeing the playground monitor look over, Tilly tosses the arm back to him.
"Your fault for not sharing." she says, making a swift exit.
Gil wipes his tears on his over-sized sleeves and puts the arm in his pocket. The playground monitor moves towards him, but is distracted by another child falling over on the way, and by the time she looks back over Gil has gone.
