Children were like dogs. It was a long held opinion on which Mildred Duff based her entire teaching philosophy. Keep a tight leash on them as pups, they would grow into decent, productive members of society. Give them free reign and they’d shit all over you. In thirty years of teaching, she could count on one hand the number of kids who had dared misstep in her presence. The staff room was abuzz with the rumour that the government was considering a proposal to end corporal punishment, and the very notion of it sickened her. It was the rare child who couldn’t do with the odd whack on the knuckles to keep them honest, and she had broken up many a schoolyard tussle by cracking together the heads of the opponents. In her experience, children responded to one thing and one thing only – discipline. Give that up and you might as well hand the little guttersnipes the keys to the boiler room.
She stood in front of her blackboard, towering over her charges. A cursory glance around the room had already told her which ones were the bullies, the lollygaggers, the chin-waggers and the dullards. She would deal with them quickly enough. Her challenge this year presented itself in the form of a tiny, ebony-haired porcelain figurine. She would need to carefully monitor the child. Great criminal masterminds didn’t get to where they were by advertising their services. They got things done quickly and quietly, then watched the resultant explosions from a distance, lest an errant spark should come their way.
The fact that the child couldn’t speak did nothing to alter Miss Duff’s opinion one bit – strengthened it, in fact. Who ever would suspect the mute little waif with the Bush Baby eyes?
‘Good morning, boys and girls, my name is Miss Duff.’
‘Good morning, Miss Duff,’ came the synchronised reply.
Quite crisp for a first day. My reputation precedes me.
‘I’m going to call the role. Who can tell me what that means?’
Four or five hands shot up, their young owners fit to burst. The teacher pointed to Samantha.
‘Can you tell me what it means?’
‘Samantha, can you tell me what it means to call the role?’
Nothing.
‘As silent as a Stone, hmm?’
The child’s eyes burned. With what,the teacher couldn’t tell.
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