It was a gray May day in Cleveland, and the end of a long school year was drawing near. Two of my students had just completed a research project on lilies, and, as a reward, they got to go to the botanical garden. The students, two third-grade girls, had worked dutifully on their project, documenting the life cycle of lilies and making a diorama out of carefully folded paper. The field-trip-as-reward was a common practice in the elementary classroom I worked at, devised by my partner teacher and technical superior. I say that because he was an idiot, or at least totally out of his depth. In my mind, it would've been more beneficial to incorporate the outings into the projects themselves, but it wasn't up to me. Like so much else there.
In order to get to the botanical garden, we had to take a small shuttle, the kind that has a limited route and is largely used by college students. It was just me and the two girls- everyone else was staying back at school for a normal school day. As we walked to the shuttle stop, the girls buzzed with excitement. A light rain had started to fall but we weren't in a hurry. Each of us was savoring the chance to get out of the classroom and relax a little. By the time we arrived at the shuttle stop, the rain had picked up, so we all cowered under the awning of a nearby restaurant. A lady came out and gave the girls some cellophane-wrapped red, white, and blue plastic bracelets. I wondered whether she had them in preparation for the fourth of July, still two months away, or if she was just patriotic. After several minutes of asking "when will the shuttle be here?" it arrived. I sat in front of the girls, who were too busy comparing bracelets to look out the window. I looked out for them, watching the buildings get bigger and cleaner as we approached the botanical garden.
By the time we arrived, the rain had further intensified, coming down in sheets with a staticky sound. We darted into the botanical gardens, our hoodless jackets pulled over our heads. The lilies were a special exhibit outside, and given the weather, we decided it would be best to poke around inside first to give the storm a chance to clear.
We wandered around the big glass butterfly enclosure, enjoying the lush warmth. The girls marveled at the animals, while I watched couples take pictures and harried camp staffers shepherd a much larger group of rowdy children. After an hour, the girls were getting hungry, so we decided to eat our lunch, which we had packed and brought with us. The rain was still pouring, and there was nowhere covered outside, so we were advised by a staff member to eat in the food court. After sitting down at a table and opening our lunches in the depressing room, another staff member informed me that we had to buy something to eat at the food court. I got a Topo Chico seltzer.
"My dad likes those," one of my students said. "But.. aren't
they alcoholic?"
"No," I laughed. "It's just a soda."
By the time we finished eating, the storm had passed. We stepped out into the wet lily exhibit, which consisted of raised beds filled with a great variety of the flowers, still dripping from the rain. The girls darted from one bed to the next pointing out their favorites, jumping in puddles in between. Fuck. I had a sudden urge to urinate, brought on by the seltzer.
"I have to use the restroom," I told the girls. "Would you rather come with me back to the main building or wait here?"
"We want to wait here!"
"Okay, I'll be right back. Stay right here."
I darted back to the butterfly enclosure, where the bathrooms were located. Was I making a mistake? Should I have made them come with me, and wait outside the bathroom? Either way they'd have to be unsupervised for a moment. I couldn't bring them in to the bathroom with me, that would've been its own liability. "Its fine," I told myself. I'd be gone for a minute tops.
As I jogged back to the lily exhibit, my heart sank. I spotted the girls with a botanical garden staff member. The staffer was wearing a dark blue polo, hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, and a had a sneering face. "Are you with them?" She asked.
"Yes," I replied, "I-"
"We go to Bryce Elementary," the girls blurted out. "That's our teacher! We didn't know where he was!" They exchanged a look and a giggle after saying this.
"Its not our job to supervise visiting children," the staffer said. "Its yours."
There were so many things I wanted to say. If I wanted you to supervise, I would've asked. Fuck you. The girls lied. Instead, I said "I understand." I didn't want to make matters worse. "Lets go, girls."
The ride back to school was somber. I wasn't sure if the girls understood the gravity of the situation, or were just sad to leave the botanical garden.
As soon as we arrived, my boss swooped in to see me.
"I need to speak with you in my office," she said.
Her office was cozy, with a wood cabinet filled with tchotchkes, and an intimidating desk cluttered with papers. I sat down.
"Someone from the botanical garden called. They said you left our children unsupervised."
"That's not exactly what happened. I had to go to the bathroom. I asked them if they'd rather come with me to the building or keep looking and they chose to stay."
"That's totally inappropriate. You shouldn't have given them a choice, you should've made them come back to the building."
"But they weren't supposed to come into the bathroom with me, right? Surely you can understand how that would've been a liability too."
"You should've held it."
"It was beyond that point. Why was I left alone with two children on a field trip? Having to use the bathroom isn't uncommon."
"It was only two kids, I thought you could handle it. If it was me, I would've held it until we went back to school."
"Those shuttles can take a long time. Wouldn't it be worse if two third graders saw their teacher piss himself? Nothing even happened."
"It reflects poorly on the school. We will have to reevaluate your position with us."
"Don't bother," I said, getting up. "I quit."
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This is the first work of fiction I've written as an adult. I welcome any and all feedback! :)