Hidden cry

“Stop that right now,” Yancy Yarrow shouted. The little boys separated but glared at each other, their fists clenched. “Now, who started this?”

All the children standing in a circle pointed at Tommy Jeffers. Tommy said. “He called my daddy a name.”
“Is that true, Pauly?” Yancy asks, looking at the little boy. Crying now Paul said. “I…I…said his…daddy was…a loser.”
“Don’t you say that!” Tommy shouted. He started forward, his fists raised.

“Tommy, you come with me,” Yancy shouted demandingly. Tommy stopped, his face grim. “Now.”
The little boy stopped. The principal guided him off the playground and down the hallway and into her office. Her hand gently on his back. His shirt torn, his nose bloody.

 “Please ask nurse to come to my office and bring her medical kit.” She told Jane her secretary.

In her office, she pointed to a guest chair. The little boy hoisted himself onto the chair and looked at the floor. His eyes moist. A trickle of blood ran down his chin. Angrily, he wiped it away with the torn sleeve of his shirt.

“Tommy, what am I going to do with you? That’s the third fight this week and it’s only Tuesday.” The seven-year-old shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve tried everything.”

There was a knock on the door. “Come in.”
The door opened, and Nurse Ruth Colburn came in.
“Oh Tommy. Fighting again.” Ruth said. She took a medical wipe from her kit. Gently she took the little boy’s chin in her fingers. It took five wipes to rid the blood from the child’s face. She stuffed cotton up the boy’s nose. “Come see me at my office before you leave school.”

“Thanks, Ruth,” Yancy said as the nurse prepared to leave. After the nurse had gone. Yancy looked at the child. “You leave me no choice but to suspend you for the rest of the week.”
“But…but you can’t do that.” The tears spilled over and ran down the little boy’s cheeks.

“Yes, I can and I will. I’ve tried everything else.” She picked up her phone to call the boy’s mother. After five rings, the answering machine kicked in. “Hi this is Janett. I can’t come to the phone right now, so please leave a message.”

“Yes, this is Yancy Yarrow. I’m afraid we need you to pick up your son. Tommy was involved in another fight. He is okay, but I have suspended him. He is in my office.” She hung up the phone and turned to the child.

Tommy’s cry started as a low wail and built. It reminded Yancy of an animal caught in a trap.

“My…daddy…left me…me and…mommy. He …he…died. He dieddddd.” The little boy dissolved into tears. He bent over, brought up his knees and hugged himself. Tears streamed down his cheeks and dripped off his bruised chin. Going around her desk, Yancy knelt and gathered the child in her arms. He allowed himself to be hugged for a minute, then pushed himself out of the principal’s arms.

Now on his feet, Tommy screamed. “I don’t care. You hear…me. I…I…don’t care.” He scooted back into a corner and buried his face in his arms. Tears came to Yancy’s eyes as she watched this child. She felt so helpless. The boy sobbing tore her heart out. His wailing was like a lost animal. At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” Yancy called.

“Janett Jeffers is here.” Ruth said, opening the door. The child’s mother rushed in. As soon as Tommy saw his mother, he ran into her arms.

“It’s my fault. Franky said daddy died because of me. I…I…was…bad. That’s …why daddy died. I sorry. I so sorry.” Janett knelt down and took the little boy into her arms. He buried his head in his mother’s breast and wept. She held him close and soothed his hair.
“It’s not your fault. Your father loved you very much. Your daddy was a good man,” Janett said, hugging the little boy, her eyes moist.

“Then why did he die, Mommy? Why did he die?” The little boy asks his face wet with tears.

“Honey, only God can answer that.” Janett said her eyes moist.

“I…I…miss…him…so much.” The little boy clutched his mother.                          

  “I know, honey. So do I,” Janett said, hugging the little boy tightly.

“You can forget about the suspension.” Yancy said, patting the little boy on the back.

“Thanks,” Janett said. She carried her son out of the office.

Yancy went back and sat in the chair behind her desk. She thought of all the children in her school. How many were hurting? Yet no one heard their silent cries.