The Legends Live On

Origin

[Day POV]

"John is... struggling," the teacher, an elderly woman, informs me.

"Struggling? Struggling how?"

"He's not connecting with his classmates and he's not completing his assignments."

"Assignments? What 'important assignments' could he possibly have in kindergarden?"

"Well, the students are required to write their names several times on sheets of paper given to them during different class periods. The students are required to write their names at least three times, but John does not write his at all."


"So? That's a dumb assignment anyway." I'm starting to realize I sound less like an adult father and more like a teenager searching for excuses as to why he didn't do his homework. But still, it is a dumb assignment.

The woman purses her thin lips, "That's hardly a proper reason why John hasn't done his assignments when asked to."

"Look, ma'am, I'm sorry that John hasn't 'done his assignments' but I don't see it as a fit reason to keep him in kindergarden another year. John can write his name." I look at the tiny, silent figure next to me and ask, "Can't you, John?" John nods.

The lady looks unimpressed, "For John to be able to pass to first grade at the end of this year, he will have to make up the assignments." The lady scrolls through something on her comp, "That means he will have to write his name fifty times."

"Fifty times!? You're telling me that, a month into the school year, you've had five year olds write their names fifty times?"

"Yes. And John will have to as well."

-=+=-

John and I are halfway home, his tiny, clammy hand in mine. It makes me think of the t-shirt I'm wearing, which says "Best Dad" at the top, has John's handprints in the middle, and says "Hands down!" at the bottom. He and June got it for me for Father's day last year.

I ask, "John?" He looks up at me in response.

"Why didn't you do the assignments your teacher gave you?"

He shrugs, "I didn't have a pencil."

This surprises me. "Well, you could have asked for one."

"Yes, but the teacher scares me. I was afraid she'd yell at me for not bringing one."

I let out a short laugh, "Well, from now on we'll make sure you have pencils. And I'll talk to your teacher about maybe yelling less, kay?" John grins and nods.

-=+=-

When we arrive home I ask John if he's hungry. An enthusiastic "yeah!" and several minutes later, he's at the table with a steaming bowl of macaroni and cheese. I look at my pile of work on the side table in the living room. I've become mostly a stay-at-home father, but I often take a look at whatever troubles the elector is having with the common people and give some suggestions. June's still an agent, but she tries to stick to less risky missions, for John's and my sake. Speaking of June, I think, she should be home any minute.

A few minutes later, my prediction is proved right. The door swings open and June steps in. Her hair is a bit mussed and her boots quite muddy, but she's still beautiful as ever.

"Mommy!" John jumps up from his chair, blond tufts of hair flying all around. He runs over and enthusiastically hugs June, prompting her to pick him up.

"Hey honey!" I walk over and give June a kiss, prompting gagging sounds from John.

"How was it?" June asks.

"The teacher meeting?" She nods.

"Okay I guess. John, why don't you go play in your room for a minute." June sets him down and John bolts away.

I tell June, "The teacher says he hasn't been doing his 'assignments' in class. He has to make them up to pass kindergarden in the spring."

June's eyebrows furrow, "What were the assignments? Why hasn't he been doing them?"

"The assignments," I tell her, disdain dripping from my voice, "have been to write your name several times. When I asked John why he wasn't doing them he said he didn't have a pencil."

"Why didn't he ask for one?"


"He was scared the teacher would yell at him for forgetting it."

"Hmmm. Do we need to talk to the teacher?"


"I guess. I dunno. How was your day?"


"Good. The mission wasn't too hard, but I'm tired."

Our conversation drifts and flows easily, like the waves of an ocean. Eventually, John comes running from his room and we eat dinner. Life is as I'd always wished it would be.

-=+=-

Question for my readers: is it too happy? I'm loving writing about Day and June's nest and their family, but do you think I need some conflict or trouble?

Thanks!

<3 BookKace