Part 3 -The Parent/Teacher Meeting

I don't remember having any bad dreams, but I knew I had a restless night. My poor white cat, Mirage, was sitting on my wooden toy box near the window eying me accusingly. My cat not being in his usual spot wasn't my only clue that the night went horribly; my blanket and sheet were in shambles and my pillow was on top of my desk clear across the room.

I rolled out of bed still feeling groggy which was not the norm for me when I was seven. Usually I would have so much energy that I could bounce of the walls if I wanted, though I never did let my impulsiveness get the best of me. The first thing I knew to do was to make my bed presentable. With an upcoming meeting with my teacher I thought it prudent I earn as many brownie points that I could. With the twin sized bed being in such disarray, it took me twice as long to make it than usual.

I could hear my aunt getting ready in her bedroom and thought it a little strange that she didn't wake me up a little earlier or come in to say Good Morning to me once she heard that I was up. For a moment I figured she was mad at me and that made me regret going to school even more. "What did I do wrong?" I asked myself for the thousandth time and still I couldn't think of an answer. It seemed like ever since the day after Christmas, life was doing just enough to make sure I wasn't happy.

The way I wasn't happy was new to me. It wasn't like I was sad, or needing to cry. I wasn't hurt in any way, that included physically and emotionally. No one was picking on me or calling me names; in fact I was barely interacting with anyone for them to have the chance. I wasn't sick and I didn't have bruises anywhere, so I wasn't sad because of that. I felt like I was just floating through life and if I could just get through another day I felt I could make it to the day after. For a brief moment in time, that was Christmas day, I discovered who I really was, and I missed me. That's how I was feeling, I discovered. I wasn't sad, I was lonely. I was lonely for me.

I sighed, knowing there wasn't anything that I could do about being Katie again. Part of me wondered if I had already let too much time pass by to even broach the subject ever again. Maybe having one totally perfect day was all a person ever had in life and I had nothing to look forward to.

I sat on the edge of the bed and started to take my pajamas off. I wished I could've just worn a long shirt as a nightgown and simply left off the bottoms, but as each night passed away that I didn't ask my aunt to do just that, it seemed more and more difficult to bring it up. I folded the shirt and pajama pants as neatly as possible and lay them on the bed. I slid my white underwear with the two blue stripes off as well. For a second I looked at my penis, it was still there and that added another area of disappointment for the day.

I shook my head as I put on a fresh pair of underwear. It wasn't that I disliked my penis, I was actually very impartial to it. I really didn't know what a girl had there instead outside of some grossly misinformed rumors from other boys. I also didn't know how other boys looked between there legs either and the only reason I knew that I was lacking in size was that my aunt had addressed some concern and even had Uncle Paul see it one time when I was in the tub for an assessment. The reason I didn't like my penis currently ,however. wasn't that it existed; but that it kept me from being my real self and kept me from wearing the type of clothes that I wanted to.

"I see you're up," my Aunt said from the doorway, but I couldn't decipher her mood. Perhaps she had just as bad a night like I had.

"Yes," I said lethargically. "See, I made my bed."

My Aunt gave a strained smile. "I see that. Good boy. Did any thoughts come to you as to why the teacher might want to see me? Remember, it's better that I hear it from you first than from her."

"Really Aunt Roe, I have no clue," I said impatiently. "And I really wish I did."

"I was thinking last night," my aunt said tenderly as she saw my frustration. "Maybe your teacher doesn't want to see me because you did anything bad. Maybe she wants to talk about your school work, or a club they want you to join or a thousand other things that aren't bad."

"She could've said so in the letter she sent home," I said bitterly as I pouted.

"I know." My aunt put her arm around me and pulled me on top of her lap. "But if you had done something really bad, I think I would've gotten a call. Maybe even a call from the principal. So let's not allow this meeting to ruin our morning."

"I'll try," I said and then tried to smile.

"Good boy. I'll let you finish getting dressed and then you can have some nice hot oatmeal."

My aunt walked out of the room to let me be. My clothes were neatly folded on my desk and ready for me to put on. Jeans and a thick sweatshirt once again.

"Good boy," kept ringing in my ears.

I rolled my eyes as I unfolded the coarse denim jeans.

"Good boy." Two words that went together that I no longer wanted to hear when someone was referring to me.

I slid the jeans up my smooth slim legs and over my hips. I buttoned the heavy brass Levis 501 button and pulled up the zipper. It felt like I was locking myself into my own "have to be a man" prison.

"Good boy." Two words that may have signified that me being Little Katie at Christmas was a one time event and now that it was over all I would have left was the memories and a few pictures once they were developed.

I slid on the heavy grey sweatshirt that had a blue Penn State logo on it. Though I knew it wasn't the material's fault, I suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable. I put on my crew length socks and tennis shoes and was ready to be "Keith for the world" for one more day.

Breakfast was a silent affair. I ate my maple and brown sugar oatmeal and my aunt sipped at her coffee. It wasn't too unusual for us to sit at the table in the morning and not say anything to one another, but today there seemed to be a certain tension about it. We were both wondering the same thing though: what in the world could Mrs. Round possible want to talk to my Aunt about.

I wasn't in too big a rush to finish breakfast, but I could only eat so slowly. After I swallowed my final bite, my aunt took my bowl and washed it in the sink. She then looked at the clock, saw that enough time had gone by and then called for a cab.

"I already called the bus company to tell them not to come by," my aunt informed even though I hadn't asked. "We can ride in together."

Twenty minutes later we were in the back seat of a Four-Ones Lincoln town car and heading off to my school. It was kind of nice not to have to listen to all the ruckus other kids made during the ride into school, though I rather it had been under different circumstances.

Though the school wasn't that far away, the ride seemed longer than it really should've taken. My Aunt and I sat in silence, after she had told the driver where we were going not a word was spoken by anyone. Part of me had a sneaky suspicion that the driver knew I was in trouble and that's why he didn't say anything because car service drivers were notorious for making small talk. As I stared out the window, I racked my brain to come up with anything I may have done wrong.

The cab ride certainly was ominous, but we eventually arrived at the red brick school. After my aunt paid the driver we walked together up the concrete stairs that led to the main entrance. A few kids from class that were there early peered through the fence and gawked at me and my aunt, making me feel more uneasy than previously.

As was procedure, my Aunt signed herself in and we then walked the empty halls of the school. There was a certain eeriness about the dark green walls and black and white tiled floors as we through corridors that were completely silent and empty. Without other children to avoid or fill the air with their cackling, the school could've been featured in any one of a dozen horror flicks.

My class was on the third floor, which didn't make my aunt too happy that she had to climb stairs. Though I was young and slender, my aunt was a great deal heavy and out of shape. There was a certain debate amongst the students that each floor contained each grade. So by the time you got to the sixth grade you would be on the sixth floor, which was technically the roof but that escaped our seven year old minds. I knew this for sure, if I got in trouble and my aunt had to climb six flights of stairs I assumed I would get a months punishment just to make up for the energy she would have to exert.

I led my aunt to my classroom. Part of me was thinking that maybe I could get us conveniently lost and I could be spared whatever trouble I was in. I gave up that idea, I knew that would only compound the situation and my teacher would wind up meeting with my aunt sooner or later.

We finally made it to room 321 and as I turned to go through the door I noticed that Mrs. Round unfortunately didn't forget about the meeting, nor did she have car trouble that prevented her from making it in today. Unlike other boys in my class, I would never wish for her to catch the flu or to get run over by a bus; that just seemed a tad mean to me.

"Ah, Mrs. Leonard," my teacher addressed my aunt. "Please come in." It was a pet peeve of mine when people addressed my aunt with my last name because it only served to remind me that I was different than other kids in my class. I know it was an honest mistake, but I frowned none the less. It wasn't my fault that my mother wanted nothing to do with my life, but I hated being reminded.

"It's actually Mrs. Miliano," my aunt corrected and gave my shoulder a slight rub. I think my aunt knew instinctively when something bothered me and did everything in her power to comfort me as soon as she could.

"That's right," Mrs. Round said as she shuffled a few pieces of paper on the table. "You're Keith's aunt. Now I remember."

My aunt smiled as much as the situation called for. Though Aunt Roe never did mind pleasantries, some times she just wanted to get down to business. I could tell by how her jaw was set that this was one of those times. "Keith gave me your note that you wanted to meet with me this morning."

Mrs. Round's smile vanished and her lips grew tight. "That I did. Keith, if you don't mind, I need you to wait outside."

'Ut-oh,' I thought. Waiting outside was the worst, that meant you did something so bad that the teacher didn't even want you to give an explanation. I looked up at my aunt, hoping she would tell me to stay so I could at least defend myself.

"It's okay," my aunt comforted. "You'll know everything soon enough."

I didn't feel very comforted as I shuffled my feet and walked out the door. I took one step to the left and sat on the floor next to my classroom. A moment later, the door was closed behind me. I wasn't even going to be given the luxury of eaves dropping so I could formulate a response.

"Please, sit down," Mrs. Round offered my aunt a chair that sat on the side of her desk.

"Thank you," my aunt said politely and then sat down, wanting to know what was so important that she would have to be late for work.

"I am sorry that I had to interrupt your schedule like this," Mrs. Round said apologetically. "But we really thought that this shouldn't wait any longer."

"Has Keith been causing you problems?" my aunt asked, trying to cut to the chase. "I know sometimes he can get hyper."

Mrs. Round turned silent as she folded her hands on top of the desk. It was obvious that she was trying to be cautious with the things that she was going to say. "No, not really causing us any problems, but he has been causing up some concerns."

My aunt blinked hard and turned her head to one side, as if she wanted to make sure her ear pointed in the right direction and that she heard every thing correctly. "So he hasn't been misbehaving?" my aunt asked, confused with what the issue could be.

"Not at all," Mrs. Round said. "In fact, our concern is quite the opposite. Keith has been too well behaved."

My Aunt's jaw dropped wide open, but she didn't say anything. She had certain expectations of what this meeting may have been about, but this was far out of the realm of what she thought possible.

"Let me give you some examples and then try to explain our concern," Mrs. Round said evenly, still measuring her response. "Do you remember the parent/teacher conference back in early November?"

"Yes," my aunt replied.

"Do you remember my concern with Keith's desk?"

"If I remember, you said it looked like a war zone," my aunt said casually.

"Now take a look," Mrs. Round said, as she motioned towards my seat, figuring my aunt would've forgotten which one it was.

My aunt turned in her chair and looked over towards the area where I sat. "It looks tidy, is that a problem?"

"Not really a problem, but very out of character for your nephew?"

Aunt Roe really wasn't grasping at why she had to come to the school because I suddenly kept a neat desk. "I've been getting on him about being neater," my aunt offered as an explanation.

"Mrs. Miliano," my teacher said calmly. "Keith has been doing a lot of things that are out of character for him."

My aunt was still at a loss as to why this was a problem. "Like what?" she asked to bide some time.

"In the past, and I'm not just talking about this year but earlier school years as well, your nephew has been quite impulsive. He would frequently get out of his seat, talk out of turn, and seem to be going five direction at once with his thinking."

"Okay," my aunt said in an elongated fashion so the teacher would continue.

"Since the return from Christmas break, Keith has been very, how should I say it, subdued. He has been meticulous in his neatness, uncharacteristic for him and most boys his age. His penmanship has improved dramatically, more than we could expect from anyone. He has been very conscientious in his work, all of his assignments are being turned in promptly and, as you know from earlier meetings, that isn't the way Keith normally goes about life. At least that wasn't the way he behaved in the past."

"So you're worried because Keith is doing better in his school work?" my Aunt asked skeptically.

Mrs. Round let out a heavy breath. "No. We are worried because of the drastic change in his behavior. Keith was never one to be reserved before Christmas and that goes for how he was in first and second grade, but ever since he has come back from break he has been very withdrawn and that does concern us."

"Withdrawn? How so?"

"Let me tell you the incident that led me to writing you the note, it really illustrates my point," Mrs. Round said without betraying emotion. "Ever since Keith has returned to school he has chosen not to interact with other boys. In fact he barely interacts with anyone, which is troubling. During his free time, instead of running around and playing with his peers like he use to before the holidays, Keith has decided to hide out in a small alcove normally populated with girls. It is common for children their age to cluster according to gender and then maybe break off into smaller groups from their. Keith hiding among the girls has been going on since school was back in session. At first no one gave it much thought, the general consensus was maybe he was a little under the weather with all this cold or perhaps he was hurt or sore in some way. Yesterday, Mr. Mayo, decided to force Keith to interact with the other boys."

"Force?" my aunt interjected.

"I don't mean physically or that he gave Keith a specific command. Basically Mr. Mayo, who is our assistant principal and also serves as our lunch monitor, banned Keith from going to the alcove to be with the girls. The idea was this would force Keith to come out from hiding, he would interact with other boys and things would slowly return to normal."

"I'm taking it that is not what happened."

"No," Mrs. Round said glumly. "In fact, Keith went to the other side of the yard and stayed quietly to himself. It is very reclusive."

"I'm not seeing exactly what the issue is though," my aunt said. "I figured a calmer Keith would be welcome after some of the prior complaints."

"It's not that Keith is being better behaved that has us concerned, Mrs. Miliano," Mrs. Round said as tactfully as she could. "It is the dramatic change in behavior."

"Okay," my Aunt said calmly. "I can honestly say that I've seen a slight change in his behavior at home. I just thought maybe it was part of the maturing process."

Mrs. Round frowned. "I want you to know that we have Keith's best interest at heart and are not trying to insinuate anything, but did anything traumatic happen to him during Christmas break?"

My aunt leaned back in her seat. She thought long and hard about the events over the holidays. "We had a very pleasant holiday season, one I think Keith enjoyed very much," she said without getting into too much detail.

"Mrs. Miliano," Mrs. round said evenly as she formulated her next avenue of conversation. "We have reason to suspect that Keith may have been sexually abused over the holidays."

"What!" My aunt yelled as she sprung to her feet. She said the word so loud that I even heard it out in the hallway.

"Please," Mrs. Round pleaded. "Calm down. I am not suggesting that you are the abuser, but I do need to make you informed that it is a possibility. With such a dramatic shift in behavior, with the avoidance to other boys, with the sudden focus on neatness and the appearance of being emasculated we suspect that Keith may have been assaulted by another male, maybe an adult or an older boy. I don't say this to put you on the defensive, but if Keith was assaulted, he is going to need help. I wanted to bring this to your attention this way you could perhaps replay the events of the holidays back in your mind and see if maybe something was a bit out of place. Perhaps a time you thought something was amiss, but couldn't put your finger on it at the time."

"My poor boy," my aunt said as her heart sank.

"Now, we aren't saying for sure that something did happen. We are just saying that there is some evidence that points that direction. We aren't suspecting or accusing you of any wrong doing, but we do want a mentally healthy Keith as much as we want a physically healthy Keith."

"I understand," my aunt said, heart broken.

"I know this is a lot. If you need to," Mrs. Round handed a business card to my aunt. "This person is a specialist in the area and can offer some counseling. We will continue monitoring the situation at school and periodically send reports back home with Keith and if things degenerate further, we will contact you by phone."

My aunt was in a daze. "Thank you," she said as she stood up.

Mrs. Round nodded in response, relieved that she had done her duty in reporting her concerns.

I was still sitting on the floor when the door to the classroom opened. I sprang to my feet before my aunt even had a chance to step into the hallway. I watched my aunt leave the classroom and pause before she turned to face me. "Am I in trouble," I asked as I had difficult reading the emotion in my aunt's face. There was anger and tears and concern and perhaps a dozen other emotions I couldn't decipher.

"We will talk when I get home from work," my aunt said shortly, with a hint of anger behind her words.

I immediately began to tear up. "But what did I do," I said in a whine.

My aunt immediately wrapped me in her arms. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "So sorry. You didn't do anything wrong, and I didn't mean to come of as being angry with you, but we really need to have a talk when I get through with work so I need you to be there when I get home."

"Okay," I said, confused by the whole situation.

My aunt wiped her eye with a tissue. "You have a good day at school, okay?"

"Okay, Aunt Roe," I said and then watched as she walked down the hall to leave. I didn't know how I was going to have a good day though. Maybe I didn't do anything bad that there was certainly something wrong and it pertained to me.

Author's note: This was a good stopping point so I can have people see something for over the weekend. I had this scene in mind from the inception of the work and it moves the story along. I am trying to see what real life would bring in a non-abusive situation and if Keith's reactions are normal, than I would figure the teacher would draw some conclusions as to why. Being withdrawn is one of the signs of sexual abuse (not the only one and not one that cries out 'this kid has definitely been raped). This scene however does set up the next scene and that sets up what everyone wants, a return of Katie and the trappings of girlhood. I just didn't feel right jumping straight to the party because the Christmas story kind of happened in a bubble, so it was plausible, but now you got school and a birthday party and maybe other kids so I have to do my due diligence. I hope you all enjoy, if not, I'll start writing more stories about crushed Gatorade bottles.