Школьник

 Gregory rubbed at his face as he checked the time. Ten forty-five. Simon had been in school for almost three hours, and Gregory had yet to get a phone call from them. That was a good thing. Right? 

Shaking away that thought, Gregory tried to focus on the mind-numbing paperwork in front of him. As one of the newest rookies there, this grunt work was going to be his future for a while. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the same was true about Evan too.

‘“Officer Winfield!” the Chief barked, and Gregory was instantly on his feet. 

“Yes, sir?” he said, standing at attention. He instantly felt the eyes of the other officers on him, and he was glad he’d put some of his military background on his resume.

“There’s been an incident at Washington Elementary,” the Chief said, and Gregory sucked in a breath. “You and Johnston will go check it out.”

“What kind of ‘incident,’ sir?” Gregory asked, telling himself that there was a chance it had nothing to do with Simon.

The Chief frowned at him. “One of the teachers called in and asked us to send a black and white down there for her to talk to,” he said. “Joanna said she seemed scared and wouldn’t say anything over the phone, so you two better get a move on!”

Gregory nodded as he grabbed up his jacket. “Yes, sir,” he said, scrambling to follow Johnston out of the building and to their waiting car.

“I hate these kinds of calls,” Johnston grumbled as they pulled away from the Police Department. “Nothing should happen at an elementary school that needs an officer to deal with it.”

Gregory wholeheartedly agreed, probably more so considering his son was there. Not that Johnston knew that.

Instead of telling him that, Gregory just nodded, forcing himself to stay calm as he waited to find out what had happened.

It seemed to take longer than it had that morning to make it to the school. And before the car had even fully stopped, Gregory was out and headed toward the woman at the front door. “Ma’am,” Gregory said, giving her a quick nod. “Were you the one that called?” he asked, glancing at the door behind her.

The woman nodded as she wrung her hands. “Yes, yes, I am,” she said. “Please, I’ll explain everything inside. The children are currently outside playing in the playground.” 

Gregory nodded as the three of them stepped into the elementary school, and the woman started leading the way down the hall. “I called you because I didn’t know who else to call,” she whispered, glancing around as she continued to walk. “I don’t believe the CIA would take me seriously, and… and… I just… I’m sure you’ll know what to do.”

He might not know what the woman was talking about, but he had a bad feeling about it.

Finally, they reached the woman’s empty classroom, and she grabbed up a pile of papers before starting down the hallway again.

“This morning started out normal enough. We were working on coloring, then I decided—since it’s the start of the year—to give the children a test to see how far along some of them got at home. Their home address, how to write their name, that sort of thing,” she said, handing the papers to Johnston. “This… this one got my attention.”

Gregory glanced over Johnston’s shoulder and froze when he saw what was on the top paper: Саймон Ли Уинфилд with an address written in neat English printing beneath it.

“When I asked the boy who wrote it, he looked at me weirdly, then went off talking in… Russian,” she whispered, stopping in front of a door leading outside. “I asked the other teachers, and he hasn’t said a word of English to any of them. I think… I think maybe his parents are Russian spies or something?! I know the Cold War is over, but still… there’s just something off about this boy.”

Lord, help me, Gregory silently prayed before clearing his throat. “I speak Russian,” he said. “Mind if I talk to the boy? I assume he’s outside?”

The teacher nodded. “Yes, though I doubt he’ll be playing with any of the other children. He’s very strange. And I might not have been able to understand what he was saying, but it was obvious he thought what I was teaching was very stupid, and not worth his time.”

Gregory bit his tongue and nodded. “Understood. Shall we?” With that, he shoved the door open and stepped out.

It took him less than five seconds to spot Simon hanging upside from the monkey bars.

“Is he the one in the blue shirt?” Gregory asked, and the woman nodded. Wonderful. “Thanks.”

He ran his hand through his hair and started forward. 

“Саймон Ли Уинфилд!” 

Simon’s eyes flew open, and the next second, he dropped from the monkey bars. “Oтец!” he said. His face lit up for a second before it seemed to dawn on him that Gregory shouldn't be there. “Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, ‘uh-oh’,” Gregory said, frowning as he crossed his arms before continuing in Russian. “What exactly is going on here?”

Simon ducked his head. “I was just having a little fun,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know they'd call you.” 

Gregory blew out a breath. “They didn't call me. Your teacher called the police because she thinks your ‘parents’ could be Russian spies.” 

Simon’s eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry!” He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes, and it was then Gregory's resolve to be strict with him broke. 

Letting out a sigh, Gregory stepped forward and ruffled up his hair.  “Come on,” he said, sighing as looped his arm around his shoulder. “You're going to apologize to your teacher.”

Simon scrunched up his nose and nodded. “Да сэр.” 

Gregory gave Simon's shoulder a quick squeeze before leading him back towards his teacher and Johnston.

The woman still looked skittish but spared Simon a small smile when he glanced up at her. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he mumbled in English. “I really didn't start out planning on only speaking Russian. But...”

With a wince, Gregory realized what had happened. “But sometimes he still has trouble remembering which is English and which is another language,” Gregory finished for him as he tugged Simon a little closer. 

Johnston narrowed his eyes at Gregory. “And how would you know that?” he asked.

Gregory snorted. “Unfortunately, because Simon’s my son.”

It was almost comical the way the teacher’s jaw dropped. “I’m so sorry, officer! I had no idea! I… I…”

“Ma’am, it’s fine,” Gregory said, holding up a hand. “Simon was the one in the wrong here, not you.” He looked down at his son and frowned. “Speaking of…” He glanced at his watch. By the time he got back to the department his shift would be over. “I’ll be pulling him out for the rest of the day.”

Simon’s teacher bobbed her head up and down. “Of course!”

“Johnston, since there’s not exactly a carseat in the squad car, do you mind explaining to the Chief what happened? I’m going to walk Simon home.”

The other officer blinked. “I mean, I guess,” he said. “But I’m still not exactly sure what happened myself.”

Gregory nodded. “I’ll email in a report.” He turned toward the still slightly frazzled teacher. “I assume I need to sign him out?”

Fifteen minutes later, Gregory was headed down the street outside the elementary school and toward home. Simon trailed behind him, his backpack in his hand just barely off the ground. 

“Are you mad?” Simon whispered, and Gregory stopped walking.

“What?” he said, turning back toward his son. 

But Simon was staring intently at the ground. “I really didn’t mean to get into trouble,” he mumbled, then he glanced up at him. “You’re… you’re not going to be in trouble, are you?”

Sighing, Gregory knelt in front of him. “Okay, kiddo, let’s get one thing straight. It doesn’t matter if I get in trouble. You always come first. Second, you’re not in trouble. I should have seen this coming. Elementary school isn’t a good fit for you.”

Simon sniffed, then flung himself at Gregory, burying his face against his neck as Gregory wrapped his arms around him and stood up, starting down the street again.

“The other kids didn’t make any sense, Daddy,” he mumbled into Gregory’s chest as he curled up against him. “All they wanted to do was play with their dumb little plastic toys and color—and they weren’t even any good! I don’t think they would have understood me even if I had spoken in English.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Gregory said before kissing the top of his head. “I’m afraid I won’t be much help either.” He’d never even spent one day in a classroom full of children. “I know it’s not always easy fitting in. But did you really have to make your teacher think you were a Russian spy?”

Gregory’s question was rewarded with a small giggle as Simon pulled back and smiled up at him. “That part was kind of funny, Daddy.”

Smiling, Gregory ruffled up his hair. “Maybe a little, kiddo,” he said, then he glanced down the street toward their house. “How about to finish the school day, you and I try out the new training room in the basement?”