Lost and Found TG - Chapter 1

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"What's the matter, wussie? You too chicken to fight? Afraid you'll get the squirts knocked out of you?"

I coughed and glared at Dirk "the Jerk" Wexler. He loomed over me. I sucked the salty blood off my lip and told him, "I'm not chicken! I don't fight dumb farts."

He flashed his teeth with the worst kind of smile. I was sick of this. Every day this week he had found and gone after me. Before that, I didn't have a single day I could relax since I started third grade. Even when he wasn't around, I was still worried.

"Little birdie goes bawwwwk bawwkk. Not a robin, just a chicken." He looked to the big guys near him. They looked like they could be in fifth grade but I knew they were in Dirk's class. They just stared. 

I took a big breath and made my hands into fists. When Dirk grabbed and elbowed me, there were a few people from my class I was playing four-square with. I couldn't see them anymore. Just me by myself.

"I'm not, you big boob!"

Dirk stared. "Prove it..."

He had his arms at his side. I looked at his shoulder. He had a rough, denim shirt. I could shove him. But then I'd have to run. 

I could kick him "down there" but you never do that. I could try to trip him but he'd just take me down too.

With all the things I could do, I did nothing but stand and think tough. Still, it was peace until Dirk suddenly grabbed me. One of his smelly hands dug into my yellow shirt and the other grabbed my pants.

"Let go!" I tried to push but he had me. I kicked and grunted as he held me up. He dragged me back, away from the blacktop, and to the edge of the playground. 

We were right by the mud piles past the grass. The broken sprinklers always bubbled water all over. I screeched. Dirk chuckled and said, "Fly, little birdie!"

He threw me. Where I landed felt cold and slippery. It soaked in everywhere. I was in the wettest part of the mud. I could even feel it dripping off my hair.

"Ha! You're not a robin! You can't even fly!" Dirk howled above me. I trembled with a hot feeling even though I was cold and damp.

Trying to stand up was the worst part. The mud stayed on me but pushed into and away from my shoes. My foot slid back and plopped in the muck. Dirk cackled and said, "Mud baby, crying in the mud, wah wah!"

I looked at my muddy arms. Right by my hand was a small, dark stone that came from the blacktop. I clenched it and turned my head. 

As Dirk leaned back, I threw it right at the spiky, blond tips of his hair. I thought it might sail over the close-shaved back of his head but it clocked him right in the nose.

He staggered, holding his nose as strings of blood circled his mouth. His face shook and his eyes narrowed. He was about to grab at me again when I heard a voice through the rest of the sounds. 

"STOP! RIGHT NOW!"

I knew it was Vice Principal Torres but I'd never heard him that angry. He pulled me up and out of the mud with one arm. In his other arm, he held Dirk by the scruff of the neck.

"You two want to tell me what's going on?" He still sounded scary even though he wasn't yelling.  

He looked at Dirk first who answered, muffled, "He thew a rawp." 

The Vice Principal pressed, "And he was in the mud. How did that happen?"

Dirk just shrugged and looked away.

The VP looked at me. My heart raced a little as he asked, "Did you throw a rock?"

"Yeah but he threw me and..."

His face tightened. "No matter what, you don't throw a rock. If someone is causing trouble, you get a teacher. They'll take care of it. Do you understand?"

I nodded for him because that's what you do. He looked to Dirk. "Did you throw him in the mud?"

Dirk made a sad face. "We were playing and he fell."

I wished I had another rock right then as I said, "You threw me...you..." Another look by the VP stopped me.

Soon, a teacher watching this area of the playground came over. The VP and her talked softly. She had just seen Dirk standing near me before I threw the rock, nothing of when he elbowed me in the face or threw me. The guys around Dirk before were gone. 

They split us up with the teacher taking me inside while the VP kept Dirk.

Just through the door, she stopped me at the tiled part of the hallway and helped me take my shoes off. My white socks were clingy, wet, and tan. Layers of mud slid off. She pressed a hand to her forehead, sighed, and said, "We're gonna need a towel."

What she got was a pair of black trash bags from the janitor for my shoes and to wrap around me. In the office, she sat me down in a big, plastic chair and asked, "What's your name? Who's your teacher?"

I answered quickly, "I'm Robin Faber. Mrs. Troyka, room 303." She left me alone.

It was hard to sit on the chair with the plastic bag sliding around. I sighed and stared at a big, cartoon worm with glasses on the wall.

While I waited, I noticed a lady down the hall through the double doors. I frowned. She moved like she was sneaking along. Her head dropped below the window and then popped back up. 

She pushed on the bar and slipped through to the office. Carefully, she peeked over the counter and then crouched her way to the other side of the room. With her back to the wall, she did roll into the room and lay flat on the ground. Her eyebrows arched, she whispered, "Are they gone?"

I stared at her a moment and asked, "Who?"

"Not who, what...the sadness spirits. They're everywhere. They make people frown all the time. Don't let them catch you or you'll spend the rest of your days like this..." She curled her lips down in the deepest frown.

I didn't know what to think but I gave a lIttle chuckle at how weird she was being. She hopped up from the tile floor with a breath and declared, "Good! Looks like they're gone."

The weird lady clapped her hands and sat on the edge of a table. "Now, you definitely need to change." 

I nodded and pulled at my slimy shirt. "But I just have this."

She dipped her head. "I think the natural look is fine. Climbing through a forest, covered in mud, twigs in your hair as you dance from branch to branch."

I shook my head. "Not in my class. Mrs. Troyka would be mad."

The lady spun her hands. "Teachers always get mad about something. Part of the job description."

Pulling the bag over my shoulders, I asked, "You're not a teacher?"

Her feet rocked in the air as she gave a smile. "Never by name, need, or creed. I guide. Saoirse Weaver."

She pointed to herself and held out her hand. I pulled back my sleeve and shook her hand. She didn't seem like anyone I'd ever seen at school.

Her top was as white as snow but puffy. Not like clouds in the sky but more the soft, light stuff you find under trees. Her pants looked like rocky glitter and an old blanket I had at home, knitted by my Great-Aunt Rita.

She had weird sandals with vines covered in tiny, purple flowers. The bottom was the kind of wood I saw at the beach once, pale and twisty. 

Her hair was everywhere, the color of morning when the sun is about to arrive. And there was so much stuff in her hair. Ladybugs, fuzzy caterpillars, and black shapes like wings or legs. I had to ask her, "Do you have bugs in your hair?"

She laughed so high it was hard to hear. "Oh ho...not today. Though, I don't mind a bug or two."

I told her about the time when mom was worried I'd get lice. That was before she took her second job. 

My hair and clothes were starting to feel crunchy from the drying mud. I asked, "You said I could change?"

"Absolutely! What all would you like to change?"

I looked down at myself. "My clothes..."

She folded her hands. "It's a start. But is that all? There is a reason why you're covered in mud and I doubt it's anything fun."

Sighing, I told her about Dirk the Jerk. About him seeing me climb a tree the first day of third grade. About how he dared me to climb higher then shook the tree when his friends were around. About all the punches in the arm. About all the stuff I never told anyone else at the school except my friend Freddy, who came up with that name for Dirk.

When I was finished, she put a finger to her chin. “That’s a lot to change. But I know what we can do. How often do you play pretend, Robin?”

A lot. Because mom and dad never get home till late, I pretend all sorts of stuff around the house. I pretend the backs of chairs at the big table are prison bars and the part under the table is me digging to freedom. I turn upside down and imagine I'm holding on to the soft ceiling as something like the moon hangs under me. And I pretend that I am slowed down so that everything I do takes forever but time outside flies. It doesn't work.

After I told her all that, Miss Weaver hopped off the counter. "Then this will be easy. Follow me." 

She peeked over and around the near hallway before waving me to come. As I followed her, I looked back and noticed we were the only people in the office. 

Before I could say anything, she dashed back and put her finger to my lips. "We're already pretending. Just you and me. Three or more would disagree."

I curled my lips back but nodded.

The hallway went straight back to the teacher's lounge. To the left, Miss Weaver opened a door and flicked on the light. Inside, I saw a bar with a row of clothes on hangers. Below were bins of bottles, boots, backpacks, and folders. 

Miss Weaver told me, "This is lost and found. Choose what you like."

I put my bag of shoes and socks by the door. Crumbles of mud came off me. "But...this stuff's not mine."

Spinning around, she said, "Exactly! It's no one's and anyone's and someone's. Clothes and lives and possibilities. All here."

I shook my head. With her hands on her hips, Miss Weaver went on, "You could go back to sit and wait. The pretend would end. They'd call your mom and dad and send you home. Followed by lots of other stuff that isn't fun at all. But it's your call: Stay or go."

I turned to look back down the little hallway. I heard faint whispers of voices far away but getting closer. I thought I saw someone's arm. 

It was like we were standing somewhere secret no one else could see or go. Like hiding under a curtain or a sheet in a game. I could just pull it off but Dirk was out there. Angry VP Torres was out there. And there were mom and dad. They would be upset about leaving work early because of me. And I would still be covered in mud.

I stepped towards Miss Weaver. "Okay, I'll stay. Are there any rules? Can I just pick anything?"

She gave a big smile. "I'm not much for rules. You pick something, put it on, and pretend to be someone else in a class far away from Dirk and everything that's bothering you. That's all!"

Looking at the clothes, I was confused how changing clothes would make everyone think I was someone else. Maybe glasses and a mustache might work but just clothes? "Are they magic clothes?"

Miss Weaver laughed. "Noooo...Although one here does have the word 'magic' on it. They aren't magic. Playing pretend is magic. You just gotta pick something."

I looked through the rack of clothes, pushing away a lot of puffy jackets. At first, I tried to find something like my shirt and jeans. I saw some overalls but they were really small.

On the end, I noticed a complete set of clothes. A dark-blue shirt with yellow-orange-red rings around the neck and arms. One of the pockets had a cool little flaming soccer ball. The pants were blue too but lighter. They felt smoother than my jeans but still heavy. Laced under them were matching, simple shoes with socks beside some gray underwear. One piece looked like a sport shirt with the bottom cut off and the other was skinnier than briefs. I guessed they were like that because of the sports style.

I was gonna keep looking but the clothes made me think. If I was more like the guy who wore these clothes then Dirk would never dare to pick on me. He had to be bigger and tougher because he was into sports. The underwear was wide in the leg, so he obviously had muscles all over. He'd be able to kick Dirk to the moon!

The underwear top was a little weird but I thought I'd seen something like it in a movie. No matter what, whoever wore these clothes had to have things better than me. I held  them in my hands and told Miss Weaver, "These!"

She smiled nicely and told me, "Excellent choice. There are some bathrooms around the corner. Take these..." Opening a closet, she took some fabric towel loops and handed them to me. "And wash that lovely mud away, so no one will think you're Robin Faber."

It was tough to carry everything but Miss Weaver helped me. Once the bathroom door was locked, I looked in the mirror.

The mud had made a big, crusty splat in my hair and above my eyebrows. I sniffled a little. Years ago, mom always washed my face and all my cuts and scrapes whenever I fell on the sidewalk. But now I took baths by myself while she finished up work at home. She tucked me in and she always said she loved me but I saw Mrs. Troyka more than her and dad, even with weekends. I rubbed my face with the circle of towel until it was red. 

My arms and legs were easy to clean as I took my clothes off. My brown, everywhere hair ticked my shoulder. I rubbed at my also-brown eyes and sighed. I could see a gray bruise on my shoulder and a red spot on my lip where it had stopped bleeding. Through the mirror, I could also see the pile of clothes I had picked.

This was kinda silly. Miss Weaver even said the clothes weren't magic. We would just be pretending. It wasn't like I would really grow or anything. But everyone else was invisible! There had to be some magic.

I started with the underwear. The bottom felt weird, not made for me. But I got it on okay. My "birdie" parts, as mom and dad called them, were pressed but not hurting. Nothing happened. 

Both tops drooped over me but were really soft. I had to tuck the bottom of the soccer shirt into the pants to stop them from falling.

As I turned the pants, the waist curled up and I noticed something. A pair of scissors had cut off the label and some stitching was marked dark but I could read the clothing name as "Pretty Miss". My heart raced as I peeked around and found, "Girls" printed by the size. The shirt didn't say anything I could read because it had been blacked out too. The underwear had the pink, stitched words, "Clover Clothes for Girls". It looked like it had been marked too but cleaned off.

I swallowed and felt hot. I had picked and put on girl's clothes. 

Thinking, I knew I had to get back to the Lost and Found and put on something else without being seen. Everyone else was gone but for how long?

Before I could sneak to the door, I hear a loud flush behind me.