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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1502005-The-Ghost-in-the-Playroom
by Elena
Rated: E · Short Story · Ghost · #1502005
A young girl is working at a daycare and meets a charming little boy. Or is he a boy?
I walked into the daycare center, hoping that Jordyn Laura would be here today. I didn’t think that I would be able to handle another day of torture by preschoolers with just me and Peggy. Hopefully Jordyn wouldn’t be sick again.

I was shaken out of my thoughts by Mimi, the person in charge of the daycare, leaning out of the doorway to the office. She looked frazzled, even though the daycare was opening at 7, and it was only 6:30.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her. She didn’t reply at first. She simply shook her head despairingly, her long black hair swishing softly around her face. Her normally pale skin seemed flushed in the dim lighting.

“Maybe it’s the fact that two of the other workers have called in sick today? That might make this a very interesting day.” She sighed, leaning back into the office. Oh, great! That meant we only had two workers, me and Mimi. Could this day get any worse?

“Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.” The buzzer rang, signaling that soon the mayhem would begin. I walked up to the front counter and looked over the counter, a strained smile plastered on my face. There was a little girl; I think her name was Alyssa, clinging to her mom’s jeans.

“Oh, hi Mrs. Hines. Come on, Alyssa. Guess what we got yesterday?” I said.

“What?” She asked timidly.

“We got a whole bucketful of brand new stamps! Do you want to come and try them out?” I ushered Alyssa over to the arts and crafts area. She busily started stamping away at multiple sheets of paper. The buzzer started going crazy. It was the morning rush now.

The next 30 minutes were absolute madness. I rushed back and forth, hurrying from the changing table to the door to the arts and crafts area to the play set to the snack area and…well you get the idea. It was hectic. When all the kids were finally here, I set up “Toy Story” on the T.V. and collapsed into a chair. Finally, a break.

Wait. What was that sound? Was one of the kids crying? I looked over at the myriad of preschoolers on the mound of pillows, staring at the T.V. None of them seemed to be crying. It must have been my imagination. No, there it was, coming from the play set.

The play set was a small plastic jungle-gym that had a relatively big pen in the middle of it for plastic balls. I shuffled over to the entrance and started crawling toward the middle, looking for the source of the crying.

Huddled in the pen was a little boy, maybe four or five years old. He had light brown hair and a slightly chubby face. He was, in other words, adorable. I slowly crawled into the pen.

“Hey, lil’ man. What’s wrong? Do you have a boo-boo?” He silently shook his head up and down.

“Where is it?” He pointed to the back of his head. I cradled his head in my hands, searching for a bruise. I swept my fingers over the back of his head, searching for the bruise. There was nothing there except for a slight bump.

“Did you bump your head?” I asked. He shook his head side to side, sobbing louder, and buried his face in my lap. I gathered him close to me, rocking him back and forth, until his sobs quieted and my sweater was soaking with tears.

“Are you okay now?” He shook his head no and clung tighter to my sweater. I gently pried his hands away and placed him on the floor. And then I stood up banged my head on the ceiling of the play set.

“Ouch!” I exclaimed. “Now we match!” He giggled slightly and stood up shakily.

“What’s your name? Is it…Bob?” I queried.

“No.” He giggled. He sounded like an angel as well as looking like one.

“Calvin?”

“No.” He giggled again.

“Billy Joe Bob Billy Junior?”

“No!” He started laughing.

“Then what is your name?”

“It’s Julian!”

“Okay then, Julian, how about we go and get ourselves a snack.” I said. “You can lead.”

I followed Julian out of the tunnel leading into the pen. He was just so tiny! He climbed out of the tunnel and waltzed over to the snack table, acting like he was royalty. Hmm…The name King Julian matched his personality nicely.

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a flash. I kept an eye on Julian, watching him in case he started crying again. Finally, 5:00 came. Moms and dads came to the door, claiming each whiny child. Finally, Julian was the only one left.

“Hey, Julian. Do you know where your mama is?” He smiled sweetly as I asked him the question.

“She’s in the office, Amber. She has been for the past few months. I’ve gotta go now, Amber. I’ll see you. I lotsa had fun playing with you. Tell my mama I love her all the way to China.” With that, he slowly started to dissolve into the air. Then he disappeared. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like there was a weight pulling the back of my head down. I spiraled into nothingness, seeing black.

I came to on the pile of pillows near the T.V. Mimi was fanning me with her Texas Rangers hat, looking worried.

“The heat must’ve gotten to you, Amber.” She said. “You fainted.”

“It wasn’t because of that!” I protested. I started to sit up, and then sat down quickly, my head spinning. Mimi got me a glass of water and then sat down next to me.

“Then what happened that made you faint?” She asked.

I started to tell the whole story, from the time I heard Julian in the play set to the time when he vanished. To my surprise, Mimi’s eyes were filling up with tears. She blinked, causing a river of tears to cascade down her face. She started to speak, but then stopped, beginning to sob. I held her close the same way I had hugged her dead son only a few hours ago. When she finished crying, she looked up at me miserably.

“That was my son’s ghost. He died a year ago today from a brain tumor on the back of his head.”

© Copyright 2008 Elena (pinkpete at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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