The Perfect Solution-A Suspense of Choices Read online

  "Nobody the little animals are in the television room. And I have Mrs. Campbell peeking in on them as she cooks lunch. Is there something you need me to do?"

  "Yeah, I think you should take them to their class. Most of them are too young to sit and watch the television and they’re probably running around like the little animals you call them."

  "I'm sure."

  "You keep an eye on them while I make that call. Let them play and keep them out of trouble. After I get a sub, I'll come and help out."

  "Ew." She shivered expressively. "Don't take too long. There are a couple of little smart butts in there that make me want to pretend I am their mother and tap their tiny bottoms." She laughed and walked out of the room.

  Bertha berated herself loudly and scornfully as she came back to the present. "And then I turn around and call the substitute from beyond." Yanking on her coat, she pulled open her door. "This will be the damned end of The Perfect Solution Center, now." She predicted aloud. "How in the world could a child be given to a total stranger? This is totally incomprehensible. When that little woman that did the sub work told me that she thought there would be a problem with Brhin Teddi, I shouldn’t have told the clown not to worry about it, especially when I was worried about it myself. I should have followed my first mind and called his mother.

  And then when Mrs. Wing brought her class in from the playground and told me she saw Brhin crying in the back of someone's car, I should have paid attention, but no I was too worried about The Center's reputation.”

  Bertha, feeling tense and aggravated climbed into her car and backed out of the driveway, all the while loudly lamenting her actions from throughout the day. She had messed up, royally. “Before I could call the mother I discussed the problem with Mrs. Julioux and was assured a friend of the mother had come and gotten the child. His aunt had already been to the center and gone and I stupidly took it for granted that there had been a mix up in communication between the family members and dismissed the problem. I really should have followed my intuition and called his mother. I just can't perceive how ten grown women could do such a thing. I'm going to give the lot of them two weeks’ notice and then terminate every one of them. I'll start over with a better staff."

  . As she drove the short distance to the center, she admonished herself for her lassitude in dealing with the many problems that had cropped up during her five years of ownership. She had only decided on starting a childcare center on a whim and a wish to make fast cash. There had never been a day in her life when she had to personally worry about the care of a child. To tell the honest truth, she didn't even like children. The thought behind buying a center had been 'easy money'. Hire your staff, put them to work and sit back and collect money. So, she had checked all of her potential competitions and taken note on everything that had made their center desirable, she made The Perfect Solution, and the After the Perfect Solution centers surpass them all. As soon as the building was built, Bertha had every room and practically every wall space painted with child-oriented murals. And the number one rule of The P. S. Center was 'no hands on the walls'. The reception area was to die for. The computers, educational and play equipment was supplied in abundance. She paid good money for Center's playground had beautiful landscaping. Large shade trees encircled by curved cemented paths for the small tricycles, wagons, and pedal cars that traveled around the padded play area. She'd had the largest jungle gym tree house built and put in two swing sets that held eight swings each. The separate outdoor play area for infants to 18 months old children was padded, had an overhead covering and was well equipped.

  The After the Perfect Solution Center's play area was fenced to keep the younger children in their own area and was also perfectly designed. It boasted of a miniature basketball and tennis court, swing sets and enough room to play baseball or kickball. The entire area was beautiful. Combined, the centers practically took up an entire block.

  It hadn't taken long for the realization that running the centers would not be easy to sink in. The first few months had really been tough. What she had not known when it came to dealing with the care of the children she had let herself depend heavily on the knowledge of the staff? That had almost been her downfall, then. After a few minor mishaps, things had gotten successively better.

  "And now things were heading down hill again." She muttered aloud. She swung into her allotted slot and turned off the car's motor. "But I will be damned if I go down without a fight."

  Getting out and slamming the car's door, she marched to the doubled glass entrance of The P. S. Center, turned off the alarm system and entered the building. Relocking the door, she roamed the hallway flicking on the lights as she walked through each room.

  "I kinda hate to give up the place. I remember the first day we opened. Damn, I remember the day of the grand opening, ninety-eight children, from the age of infant to 12 years old had been officially enrolled at The Perfect Solution Day Care Center. It was a great event. The media, both television and press were on sight for the occasion. Of course they had been The Perfect Solution Centers had been advertised as the best and most accommodating facility to be built in the city, promising a lot in name and abilities. The main part of The Perfect Solution Center opened at 6 a.m. and closed at 6:30 p.m., drop-ins were welcome. On the property, in a separate building that was lovingly called After the Perfect Solution, after-school and night care for all ages was provided.

  As an extra incentive, parents could pay to have their children take part in ballet classes, piano lessons, gymnastics, or karate. The after school center remained open all night. By providing these services in a separate building, monies were saved on the utilities. It was closed at 6 a.m. until 3:00 in the afternoon and run with a separate set of staff. Operating the center this way meant that the younger children's space and property in the main center were not bothered or destroyed by the more robust activities of the older children. The centers boasted to be able to supply the perfect solution for whatever kind of childcare situation that could arise for a parent.

  On the day of the grand opening, the sun shone brightly without a rain cloud in sight. Large colored balloons and flags decorated the building and surrounding fence. The parking lot had over flowed with potential customers and curiosity seekers. Part of the grand opening attractions was the barbecue links, balloons, and promised discounts for the parents and freebies for the children.

  Bertha Wall, owner and director of The Perfect Solution Daycare Centers stood in the reception area giving interviews, passing out brochures, smiling at each adult and handing balloons to the children as they walked through the door. The P. S Center was her dream child. She had been a part of the project from the first findings to when the last piece of tile had been laid. Nothing had been done or bought without her prior knowledge. She was banking on making a fortune with the profits from The P. S. Center. It promised things that none of the other childcare centers in town could offer. A lot of money had gone into the planning and supplying. Nothing was cheap or short changed. Computers were in every class from the toddler to pre-kindergarten and two were in the after-school center.

  The after-school center had something the main center did not; their activity room contained three televisions with games connected, the two computers, a bumper and regular pool table and any other table game school children might want. Everything else was supplied in abundance.

  She listened to and silently smiled at the compliments that The P.S. Centers received. Her staff stood at the doors of their perspective classrooms, waiting to give a tour and explain the curriculum and activities that would be used for the particular age group they would be working with.

  After the tour of the buildings and the interviews were over, Bertha joined everyone in the playground area where the barbecue was being served. It was lovely. The yard was well equipped with sandboxes, swings, climbing areas, outdoor toys (which were kept in a small shed in the corner of the yard and picnic tables strategically set under large shade
trees. Everything was going beautifully.

  At the end of the day, Bertha turned the lock on the back of the last visitor and smiled to herself. The open house had been a great success. Come Monday, the first day of the P.S. Center's opening; she would be able to see how well her ideas into action would transpire. Taking a deep breath, Bertha basked in what would be the center's last day of peace and quiet. Mentally patting herself on the back, Bertha Wall congratulated herself again on doing such a great job.

  Going from room to room, Bertha clicked off computers, picked up and put away forgotten toys, turned off the lights throughout the building. Making sure that the paper supplies were abundant, and everything made ready, she returned to the front of the building and prepared to leave.

  Straightening the chairs and cushions in the reception area, Bertha turned off the monitors and clicked on the alarm system. It would be her job from this day forward, the opening and closing of The Perfect Solution Day Care Center.

  *****

  “Stephanie”

  "Oh my God, you have got to be kidding." Stephanie screeched out the words.

  Walking dazedly back to the phone stand, she slowly placed the telephone's receiver on its base and covered her mouth with her hands.

  "I knew something bad would happen. I just knew it." She talked to herself as she brushed away the stray strands of hair from her face and walked across the room to get her jacket from the closet.

  "Why did I ever let that woman have that little boy? Why did I go to that damn center in the first place? And then to have that bitch of a director call and damn near threaten me with a lawsuit, is just about all I can handle."

  Forcing the buttons through the holes of her new leather jacket she remembered the tears she had seen rolling down Brhin's cheek as she had handed his jacket to the woman holding him.

  Maybe I should call my lawyer. Oh my God. What if I'm accused of being a partner to that woman?" Stephanie put her hand to her mouth in consternation. "I didn't do anything to stop her. Damn, I literally gave the child away. I put the poor little guy in her arms. And worse than that...." Stephanie paused in her soliloquy to push her hand into the left pocket of her jacket. Still in shock, she pulled out a folded piece of paper. The evidence of her enormous mistake lay accusingly in her trembling palm. "I have this."

  The long-range consequence of her error hit her with the same shocking force as it had when she accidentally found the folded piece of paper on the floor of The P. S. Center's coat closet. She had found it in her rush to give a father his little boy's blue jean jacket before she could leave the building herself. She had been feeling frustrated and angry ever since the accident at snack time and more so after her talk with Mrs. Wall and couldn't wait to get away from the center. Dashing into the closet to get the child's jacket, she brushed another from its hook. It landed in a little pink pile and when she had stooped to retrieve it, she spied the piece of paper lying pressed against the wall. Picking it up, she shook out its folds as she straightened to a standing position.

  "What have I done?" She whispered in horror as she had read the brief note a second time. Unable to draw a breath, her heart beating erratically, Stephanie pressed her hand to her chest, she felt as if she were about to have a heart attack. Walking out of the closet as if she were in a trance, she handed the jacket to the parent.

  "You're giving me the wrong one." The father took the preferred jacket and pushed the pink one back towards her. "Are you okay? You look a little ill."

  "Yes, yes I'm fine." She shook herself from her reverie and gave the man a good facsimile of a cheerful smile. "I was just about to leave." She walked towards the closet to get her own things. "Have a good evening."

  Standing in the closet, she pondered on what her responsibilities and possibilities were. Who was she going to tell about the note? She recalled how Mrs. Wall had just finished chewing her out for the big collision and mess from snack time and she just didn't feel like being trapped in an office with her again. Mrs. Wall had been terribly upset. As if she considered the incident to be totally Stephanie's fault and when Stephanie pointed out to Mrs. Wall that the accident would not have happened if there had been an aid and not so many little children in the room, Mrs. Wall had nearly jumped out of her chair.

  "Listen, Ms. Franklin. Don't presume that you know my job. From what I can understand, this is the first time that you have ever worked in a childcare center. Of all of the people that have worked in that class room, no one ever complained of a problem handling the children."

  "As a matter of fact this happens to be the second center I have worked in. Your falsely named center compares to none I know of. Have you ever thought that the other workers never complain because they don't come back?" Holding her tongue had never been one of Stephanie's better traits and she had gotten into plenty of trouble for it throughout her life. "One of the parents complained to me about the teachers being changed so often in that room. That's not good for the children and it sure won't keep your business flowing."

  "Who are you to tell me how to run my business?" The woman had looked livid. She stood behind the desk pointing an accusing finger toward Stephanie. "You who have just barely graduated from college and you know nothing about the inner workings of child care centers."

  "No, but I do have common sense. There were too many children in that room today and I knew none of them. It’s a miracle nothing serious happened. Oh by the way, did Mrs. Julioux tell you that I might have sent a child home with the wrong person? It was when the children were getting up from nap. I believe his name was Brian. I sent a note up here asking her to call his parents."

  "No, no one told me anything." Bertha Wall sat back in the chair so fast it looked as if she had been slapped. "When Mrs. Wing told me she saw little Brhin-Kristoffer Teddi crying in the back seat of that car, I just kind of blew it off. And when the aunt came and the children were crying and carrying on in the television room, she was told a friend had picked him up. Why didn't you say anything then?"

  "I wasn't in the television room and no one told me about her coming. I was in my class cleaning the mess, alone." Stephanie stressed the words. "She must have come while I was cleaning the mess in the room."

  "I think you better go home."

  "Do you think there will be a problem?" Stephanie nervously twisted a strand of hair.

  "No. There was probably a miscommunication between the child's mother and her sister. I'm sure Mrs. Julioux read your note and called the boy's mother. The mother would have called by now if the child hadn’t made it home."

  "Do I come tomorrow?"

  "I don't know. I'll call you if I need you."

  Stephanie left Mrs. Wall's office with the assured feeling she would not be working at The P. S. Center again. After the little boy and his father were gone, she stood in the closet for a couple of tormented minutes with the folded piece of paper sitting accusingly in the palm of her hand, she finally decided to put on her coat and stuff the abandoned note in her pocket. She would take it home. Besides, there was nothing she could do about poor little Brhin-Kristoffer, now.

  "And so, here I stand." Stephanie came back to the present and stared at the crumpled piece of paper she held in her hand. "Clutching a damp wrinkly piece of paper in my hand and about to go and face that child's mother. If I had the knowledge of this note before hand, none of this would be happening. Why hadn't the poor little guy given it to me?"

  Stephanie shook her head in regret and lifted her purse from the floor near the sofa; she searched its contents for her keys. Not finding them among the paraphernalia, she made an extensive search of every room in the apartment, lamenting loudly about the unfairness of the situation.

  "How dare that idiot Mrs. Wall call and accuse me of being incompetent. I wasn't the one that hired a substitute to work with twenty-odd children and then leave her to work on her own. I didn't even know one child from another. Let alone their parents. Most of the parents had been rude, anyway. They came in, took t
heir children and said nothing to me. I'm not the one that owns a center that's run by a staff of dimwits that allow anyone off the street to walk in and take a child. Today has been the most horrible day in my life." She swung her arms around in the air shouted to the empty room.

  Sitting on the sofa, Stephanie leaned back, closed her eyes, and breathed slowly. Placing the back of her hand across her eyes, she tried to relax. Barely breathing she reviewed the events from the day. It had started off on a tranquil note. She had been sort of depressed the night previously because she had not found a job after four months of searching and so she had slept in a little later than usual. It was nine o'clock and she had just poured milk into the bowl of Frosted Flakes she had chosen for breakfast when the phone rang.

  "Hello?" She had asked.

  "Yes, this is Mrs. Wall from The Perfect Solution Daycare Center. Is this Stephanie Franklin?”

  "Oh, yes." Crossing her fingers behind her back, Stephanie prayed that the woman was calling to offer her an interview. "I put in an application a couple of weeks ago."

  "Yes. I'm looking at it right this minute." Mrs. Wall cleared her throat. "What I am calling about is this; I need a sub for today. One of my teachers has called in ill. She's usually here for ten. I know that its short notice, but do you think you might be able to come in this morning?"

  Stephanie had been dancing around joyously as Mrs. Wall had been talking and could barely wait to answer.

  "Yes." She hurriedly agreed. "I can be there."

  "This is not too short a notice is it?"

  "Oh no, this is fine. No problem at all. Is there a special way I need to dress?"

  "No. Just remember that it may be cool outside but once you're in here, it's very nice. If you over dress you'll probably smother."

  "Okay."

  "Just come prepared to have fun."

  "What age group will I be working with?"