Opportunities for Development - Chapter 3: The First Day of the Last Year

Chapter 3 - The First Day of the Last Year

Entering the gates of St. Benedict’s Church of Albiene Primary School for my final year was a cautious affair. Grimsby’s Pre-School was at the back, away from the huge structure that constituted the main hall. Calling it “gothic” would be very charitable. It was definitely the look the architect had been going for, but it had instead become a rather squat and unappealing red brick and slate roofed edifice that towered over its surroundings. The religious iconography scattered around the various parapets and windows, and the name of the school itself, were relics of a different time. Some Amazons were spiritual people, but Littles? If there was a God he was playing one hell of a mean trick on us. Not that I’d begrudge a Little with a bit of faith, mind you. Still, I don’t really think the idea of Amazons having a superior to them appeals to their sensibilities anyway.

Littles always arrived early. We had to as a basic form of survival. Arriving late was “immature”, and if we arrived when everyone else did, we’d be mercilessly bullied by pre-pubescent Amazons in the front playground. I gave my rucksack, now worn and battered after three years of use, a quick tug up my back and headed through the front door.

“Morning Eddy” I heard from behind the reception counter.

“Morning Miss Webley” I responded, smiling at the grandmotherly figure that kept watch over the front entrance. I have no idea how long she’d worked at the school, apparently before Grimsby had even arrived. As the Pre-School had been up and running for at least two decades, and Littles rarely attended St. Benedict’s before that, no one I’d spoken to could remember when she hadn’t been behind that desk. Her hair was puffed up into a thin perm that was dyed a very light shade of blonde, naturally blending with the greys of her roots. Regular application of anti-wrinkle cream to her face seemed to have nullified the worst effects of age, but you could tell where she’d missed spots on her neck, showing her true, monstrous underbelly from the chin down. Unfortunately I had the pleasure of glancing up at that area as she leaned over the desk to look at me.

“Isn’t it your last year here dear?” she asked, indulgence of a perceived child clearly her aim rather than genuine curiosity.

“Yes Ma’am, turned eighteen two weeks ago” I turned to face her, looking up at her face as I reached the door leading to the first corridor of classrooms.

“Oh goodness, it only feels like yesterday your parents brought you in.” her voice was sickeningly saccharine.

“I’ve got to get to class Ma’am” I turned away again, heading through the door to avoid more of her doting.

Was that rude? Probably. Did I care? Not in the slightest. I had more important things to think about than the over-exuberant mothering of an Amazon crone.

The inside of the school was something of a maze, divided as it was into several sections for various levels of development. You could tell what each of the classes had been doing by the huge cork boards covered in posters from projects and photographs of field trips. By the time I’d turned through three doors and two further corridors the boards were distinctly colourful and gaudy to anyone aged over five or six.

There was one board, possibly the most galling part of this whole institution, which was directly outside the door that divided the preschool classrooms from the rest of the building. A big paper poster was draped over the top of it, big colourful letters reading:

“OUR LITTLES! DOING THEIR BEST!”

Underneath were pictures of us, groups of three gathered round little wooden tables working on some stupid task we’d been assigned. They were particularly, almost certainly deliberately, unflattering in many cases. Indeed I was a focal point of one that had me bending down to grab a piece of a puzzle I’d dropped on the floor. As it was taken from behind me, my shirt had risen up and the elasticated waistband of my shorts had slipped down, revealing a wonderful and colourful row of monkeys on the back of my diaper.

I would never have been mistaken for a seventeen year old there. Not in a million years.

The only small mercy was that all that would be coming down in a few days. The board filled up during the first term, giving everyone a chance to make their mark on it. I’d have several classmates I’d recognise and many more that I’d meet for the first time who’d end up with an unfortunately captioned picture there. Those I already knew would be aged from five to eighteen, provided they’d not completely screwed up their assessment to the point of needing a phone call to the local Little’s orphanage. There was always one, but it wasn’t always a new fish. I knew it wasn’t either of my close friends, both of whom would be reaching eighteen this year as well, but there were at least half a dozen more Littles in my class and any of them could’ve dropped themselves into the arms of a giant if they’d had a bad day.

“Carly! Over here mate!”

As I opened the door through to the main area of the pre-school a voice rang out from the centre of the large open room that made up the entrance. The three classrooms of the preschool were separated by a wide play space, linoleum carpet covered in colourful numbers and letters scattered around. In the middle of the day this would be covered in toys and sensory play pieces, perfect learning tools for pre-schoolers who were just about ready to learn some basic arithmetic and spelling. Currently standing there was the stick thin body of a Little whose black hair was perfectly combed and washed to mirror shine.

“Oh man, it’s good to you Leo.” I grabbed him in a hug, one that was immediately reciprocated with another tight squeeze for me.

“You too man, summer is way too long. Can’t wait until we’re out of here and can get some freakin’ space you know”

I nodded back “Gonna be weird without Stu. He got his plumbing qualification though!”

“Yeah I heard! Good on him!” Leo sat down on the floor crossing his legs “What about yourself, how’s the electrician stuff going?”

I could feel my face cringe as I sat down to join him “Not great, need to get the tests done before the end of next year and I suck at them”

“Hah, I got my software programming AVQ last year. Easier than the stuff we learn here to be honest”

“Says the maths wiz”

He chuckled “Not my fault Grimsby picks on you”

I scoffed, looking over to her classroom. Church and Grimsby had differing views on how to treat us, though both were hardly ones we’d choose. The former preferred to leave us to own devices, finding pleasure in any small success we had, and cooing at us if we contributed meaningfully to the class. Grimsby meanwhile saw us as a tool, a way of reinforcing the view among the new Amazon cohort that we were, despite our ability to “use big words” still here for a reason. So she’d ask us questions on the fly, test our weaknesses or refuse us bathroom breaks just to prove a point. I’m not sure which I preferred, her brutal but at least somewhat honest approach or the infuriatingly patronising approach of Church.

“Yeah well, at least Mr. Douglas is gone” I noted, a smirk appearing on my face.

“Oh? He was here for my assessment.” Leo responded “Did he get promoted or something?”

“Nope, fired” I grinned “Bastard tried to prove I wasn’t potty trained and got more than he asked for”

Leo burst into laughter “Seriously? What did you do, piss on him?”

“Nah, he got out the weird demo potty and told me to use it. So I did. Asked him to wipe me and he just exploded”

Leo’s face started to go red as his laughter intensified “That’s… wow. Just wow Carly. Good job, he had it coming”

I couldn’t help but feel pride welling up inside me. He really did have it coming, the man has been one step short of reinstating corporal punishment. To him, every Little had been a disruption. We’d be stuck at the back away from the rest of the group, while any peep out of us was punished with a recitation of lines on the whiteboard.

A few minutes of silence passed in which we both laid back on the soft lino carpet and looked at the ceiling. There was a small sense of something being wrong starting to build, for both of us. We’d normally expect to see a few more Littles start to trickle into the room. Even though there wasn’t a strong sense of comradery between age groups - our own clique was the three of us plus Stu from the year before - we did try to look out for the younger ones. But none had thus far arrived, including the last member of our own year.

There had been six in our year group when we’d joined, two girls and four boys - a real band of misfits. Joanne was one, adopted before she had an opportunity to taste adult experiences. The other girl left before we really got to know her. I don’t think she was adopted, just moved out of the county.

Eric had been the most recent drop out. He’d decided it was a good idea to rebel against the system and come in wearing underwear half-way through the spring two years ago. And if there’s one way to prove you need help dressing yourself at home it’s to have an accident in the pants you were told specifically not to wear. All that remained now were the three survivors of fourteen years of hell - Leo Poole, Edmund Carlisle and…

“Hey guys!”

The voice of the final member of our little group perked our ears up as he sped towards us from the door. We got to our feet, holding our arms out for a group hug that he landed into with a little jump of joy.

“Grub! It’s great to…”

“I missed you guys so much!” he interrupted, hugging tightly “I thought I was gonna fail the assessment this year…”

Leo and I looked at each other, caring smiles on both our faces. Robert Grubsworth, Grub to his friends, was a Little that every crazy Amazon mother would want. He was short, five foot four in the right shoes, baby faced with curly hair that bounced with every movement. Like me he was already eighteen, his birthday was on the day of my assessment in fact, but you’d never have thought it to look at him. If a giant could choose the perfect little boy to satiate their mad hormonal responses, Grub looked like he would fulfil any desire imaginable.

“Grub, if you had, we’d have dashed over in a Tyke.” Leo responded “You’re not getting stuck in some orphanage, remember?”

He nodded in our arms, hugging into our chests. We’d made a promise, many years ago now, that we’d never let him get adopted. Whether by good work on our part to keep him out of trouble, or sheer dumb luck, he’d always made it to the following year. Fortunately his parents, like mine, taught him what to say and what to do down to the letter, while we took hits where needed here to keep the worst of Grimsby’s machinations or Church’s cosseting away from him.

We’d soaked our Monkeez on more than one occasion when we’d seen a look of panic start to emerge on his face while the latter pinched his cheeks. Changing disruptive Littles took precedence over cooing over them, one of the few things we could employ as an almost protective measure for each other.

“Yeah but…”

“No buts” I interrupted “Especially not now Stu isn’t here. We’ve one more year to get through and you’re going to be there at the end with us alright?”

He pulled out of the hug, looked at us both and reciprocated the smile “Yeah… We’ll all get there right?”

“Yeah!” Leo and I said in unison, our smiles turning to full grins. Moments like this happened every year at the start of term, but they were important every time. We could only talk over GwiffinWeb in the holidays, or go away to places Littles were basically left to their own devices.

Camping in the countryside was an option, but you’d never see a little with a caravan. Hotels were almost always deliberately intrusive into our stays, checking our beds and ID’s constantly. So we preferred to stay at home, playing games online and doing our hobbies while we waited for the next year to start. It was a somewhat lonely existence at times, but we met up when we could afford to and our parents could drive us. Thankfully, at eighteen, I was now old enough to drive the Tykemobile alone, without supervision.

“Who do you think is replacing Douglas?” Leo asked, looking across to the classroom whose name sign, normally a spelled out row of colourful alphabet blocks, was now missing.

“Miss Addison took over for my second assessment” I responded “Apparently she’s from Year Six? She was only a TA there though…”

“Miss Addison was in my assessment too” Grub responded “She was… nice.” he was visibly blushing.

Leo raised his eyebrows “I’ve missed out on something haven’t I?”

I nodded “She defended me in the assessment. Said I could’ve graduated to secondary school with my vocabulary or something like that”

Grub nodded “Same, she asked Grimsby about my behavioural record and when she looked at it she said it was better than anyone in her classes”

Leo looked shocked “Well, I definitely missed out” he shook his head “I had to deal with Douglas ragging on about how I had potty anxiety or some crap”

“I mean…”

“ONE TIME” he held up a single finger at me “It was freezing cold and it’s not like those plastic bowls are heated for us”

Grub giggled “Well, until you peed all over the seat when you jumped back up”

Leo sighed “I swear I’m gonna…”

He was interrupted by a sudden rush of noise blasting through the entrance to the pre-school, the voices of small children a cacophony of sound that made us all immediately move to the back of the room. This was standard practice for us at this point, Amazon pre-schoolers were as strong as us and often stronger, their sheer mass a threat to us by the time they left. Getting out of their way, especially on the first day, avoided a lot of bruises.

“I can’t believe it, all of them?”

We heard Church’s voice, distressed and slightly cracking, as she and Grimsby walked through the door behind the group of kids.

“The three we had assessments for before this happened are here. We already had them enrolled. The rest though? Gone”

Grimsby's voice was positively venomous. We’d only heard that a few times when a kid in her class had completely derailed it to the point of no return. Preschoolers normally weren’t capable of it, but Littles absolutely could be. The tone was even worse than when she’d taken Douglas to task.

“Helen, please take Miss Addison through to her classroom. I’ll have to do the introductions with a few changes.”

“Yes Ma’am” Church responded, her face pale and taught. We spotted the figure of Miss Addison follow her through to Douglas’ old classroom, though her own look was more one of confusion than the rage or sadness of her colleagues.

We looked at each other, our faces all clearly marked by concern. Whatever had got the two giants in such a mood was going to have been big, especially to show it in front of a new cohort.

“Right kiddo’s come with me into the large room behind you. You three as well, you know the drill by now” Grimsby gave us a quick look over and directed us into the room. We obliged, taking our place at the front of a gaggle of confused, scared and bouncy Amazon kids.

“Please find a seat at one of the blue tables. The red tables are for the Littles so…” she stopped, looking at us and then at the rest of the room. “Never mind, find a seat where you can”

Another look passed between us. Grimsby never changed anything if it could be helped, and it was clear this was not going to her standard script. We made our way over to one of the red wooden tables, the rest of the Amazons thankfully avoiding us as those who had listened to the start of the instructions seated themselves at blue tables while the rest just gathered in groups where they’d decided to go.

“Ok kids, quiet down now!” Grimsby called out over the noise. Immediately the room fell silent, the uniforms of the cohort making us look like puppets to the master.

“Welcome to St Benedict's Preschool and Develop...” she started, then seemingly stopped. She looked over at us, her mouth making the motions of the remainder of the name but with no noise to join it.

“Ahem… sorry. Welcome to St Benedict's Preschool! I’m Miss Grimsby, I’m the head of this little part of the school and will be in charge of you while you’re here!” she walked over to her whiteboard, writing out her name in bright red marker “You’ll be here with us every day for a few hours until you can pass the Reception Assessment Test at the end of next year. I know most of you will get through it with no problem at all, so don’t worry.”

This was back to script, though normally we’d expect there to be some Littles around us groaning in annoyance.

Where were they?

“Now, one important part of this class is that we integrate Littles into our learning” she looked at us “Due to some… changes… We currently only have three Littles attending this year. We may have more joining us at a later date”

We looked directly at each other, our mouths all open. There had been a dozen of us; they couldn't all have failed the assessment.

“Littles are dumb anyway” came a voice from one of the blue tables. We turned to face the Amazon kid and glared at him, his tongue sticking out at us as we did so.

“Please be quiet,” Miss Grimsby said, her voice already sounding drained. “First of all, you can see some paper in front of you. I want you to find a piece and write your name as best you can on the front with the crayons.”

The kids all started to follow the instructions as we sat there still in shock.

“What the hell…” I muttered, trying to keep my volume low.

“Heck if I know…” Leo responded, shuffling around to get closer to me and Grub.

“Hello you three” Grimsby had walked over to us, leering over our seated forms.

“Hello Miss Grimsby” we all responded in unison, our years of enforced training taking over.

“As you can see, your Little friends aren’t here today” she shook her head “A special school for Littles just opened across town. “Dr Wulffs Little Education and Maturosis Care Centre” apparently.” she grimaced. Grimsby knew we were capable of understanding more than her patronising mannerisms and was clearly trying to hold off on indulging us with her annoyance.

“So… we’re the only Littles this year Ma’am?” Grub asked, his voice cracking a little.

“Yes Robby, just you three” she put her hands on hips and looked down at the untouched paper and crayons in the centre of our table “So I want you to be on your best behaviour this year. No screw ups, no talking back, no potty nonsense”

“No Ma’am” we all responded, grabbing at the crayons and paper and starting to complete the same task as the new pre-schoolers.

“Good. I’ll leave you to it” she started to walk away “Oh, Leonard, Mr Douglas won’t be returning this year. Miss Addison is taking over his position. You’ll be introduced tomorrow when she has class control”.

“Yes Ma’am” Leo responded, nodding as he grabbed a yellow crayon and started to draw a large L in the centre of the paper.

As the giant walked away we all gave each other another look before staring at the paper we’d taken in sheer shock. By the time we’d finished writing out our names, Grimsby was starting to reassert herself, taking her place at the front of the class.

“Right everyone, please put your name slip in front of you.” she instructed, the kids all following along. “I want you all to introduce yourself with your first and last names, ok?” nods followed around the room “We’ll start with the Littles, as they’ve done all this before. Edmund?”

I stood up and looked around the now entirely hostile audience that was watching me. No sense of safety, no sense that we’d have Littles to look out for…

It was all I could do to get my voice to work.

“My name is Edmund Carlisle, Miss”