Unwanted child
Шрифт:
The group animatedly followed her guide, snaking around and entering the student rooms. Some of the parents were amazed at how organised and elaborate everything was inside, others were not surprised at all, as they had moved like Lars from larger communities where the CECs were even more modern and advanced. Lars and Theodore weaved in the tail. The boy's eyes were burning with excitement. He was curious about everything and wanted to start playing in these unusual and fun classes with his peers as soon as possible. For kids who had never studied with teachers, the CEC at first seemed like one big and amazing sandbox with lots of toys and hobbies. Many wanted to poke, touch and visit everything.
In the first year, learning was conducted in a playful way, gradually revealing the strengths and interests of young students, preparing them for more complex subjects. From the second year onwards, special techniques were introduced to help children better absorb the necessary information and delve into core subjects such as language, children's maths, logic, music and so on. That is why, by the age of six, children entered school ready for full-fledged study in the training profile chosen by their parents.
The group walked to one of the outermost doors at the end of the corridor. It was painted a dark purple colour. It was painted dark purple and had volumetric stickers in the form of flasks of various shapes with liquids inside. The headmistress stopped near the entrance and said proudly: ‘And this is one of my favourite classes. The chemistry room.’
Inside the room, the walls were painted the same purple colour, with orange stripes in the middle. There were also small multi-coloured blotches on them, reminiscent of ink stains carelessly left by a poorly-behaved student who couldn't write. The floor was covered with a special waterproof coating that could easily be used to clean up spills. In addition, it was very soft, so the students sitting on it were very comfortable. The kids sat on the floor, and in front of them were long wooden tables on which various liquids were spread out. Those were carefully trying to mix them together, watching with interest as the colour of the solutions changed. The children began to look round at the visitors who had just entered.
Headmistress: ‘Well, let's not distract them from their lessons. Let's move on!’
One of the mothers turned to the centre director, looking worriedly at the students: ‘Isn't this dangerous? Can't the children drink these liquids and get poisoned? What if they get some of it in their eyes?’
Headmistress: ‘Don't worry about anything. All liquids have a special composition that is edible, hypoallergenic and has an unpleasant taste. Therefore, children should only try it once to then stop doing so. Simply put, all liquids are ordinary water, even though they have different colours and mixing them leads to different reactions. The safety of the children is our centre's highest mission.’
The first floor was no different from the first, except for the high glass partitions that enclose the edges of the surface from the chasm in the middle of the floor, from which one escalator takes people up and down to the ground floor and another does the same to the second.
The tour group reached a blue door with a sticker of a crescent moon and a baby sleeping on it. Some of the parents wanted to go inside, but the headmistress stopped them, asking them not to disturb the babies resting there. So the room could only be seen standing on the threshold. It was painted in dark blue colour. It was coloured dark blue, and only a dim night-light in the form of a starry sky illuminated the room. From there came the faint sound of crickets singing, which was meant to lull the babies to sleep. The space was quite large, about 40 square metres. On the floor there were many cots arranged lengthwise and crosswise. Some of them were close to each other, and some on the contrary – at a distance, forming small passages between them. On the frames there were several plates with children's names, as one and the same cot was used by three or even four children in a day.
Headmistress: ‘The second exactly the same rest room is upstairs. The bed linen is changed four times a day, per child. The room is regularly disinfected with ultraviolet light’.
Father of one of the children: ‘But how do they fall asleep so quietly strictly according to your schedule? I can't put mine to bed for hours!’
Headmistress: ‘The secret lies in the sounds of nature used to put the children to sleep. On top of that, we use special speakers that emit certain vibrations into the air, which also contribute to a successful sedation. Right now, you don't feel it because you're outside. But once you get inside, lie down in bed and immerse yourself in this atmosphere of calm and serenity for a while, your eyes will start to close as if you had taken a powerful sleeping pill.
The same worried mum who asked the question in the chemistry room and many others: ‘Isn't it dangerous? Isn't this music of yours going to affect the children's hearing in any bad way?’
The headmistress looked at the mum with a look that was both tired and incomprehensible. A disgruntled mutter ran through the crowd. This woman, always asking the most questions and fretting about safety more than anyone else, had become somewhat of a major annoyance to those around her.
Headmistress: ‘As I have said before, I repeat: the safety of children comes first for us. As well as their health. You can rely on us for that.
The mum continued to press on, obviously not fully understanding the answer, ‘So there is no danger?’
A rumble of discontent spread through the crowd again. The headmistress gritted her teeth, took a deep breath and exhaled, then answered the annoying woman in a steady and monotonous voice: ‘No, there is no danger to her hearing.’
The tour around the main building of the CEC took some more time, after which the group stopped near the office of the headmistress, which was located on the ground floor, and parents took turns to go inside to settle some formalities with documents. Finally, it was the Davels' turn. Lars sat his son on one of the chairs near the desk of the head of the Centre, and sat down next to him on the next one. The little boy, chattering with his legs began to look around. All the space around the perimeter was filled with bookshelves. They were cluttered with various fiction and educational literature, the names of which Theodore could not read yet. So he just admired the colourful covers.
Lars: ‘So, when can I give you the boy?’
Headmistress: ‘You say that as if you want to get rid of him.’
There was a short silence. The headmistress finished filling out some paperwork and took her attention away from them and continued to answer the question: ‘From tomorrow, Theodore and his other classmates will start their first day of school. We always advise parents to support the baby in the first week and attend his first classes, at least for a while.’
Lars (emphatically): ‘I think there's no need for that. He can manage on his own.’
Headmistress: ‘Again, it's up to you. You are his father. We are only giving advice. As the boy will have to face a new society, hitherto unfamiliar to him. Therefore, certain changes may occur. Both psychological and…’
Lars: ‘Do you have psychologists?’
Headmistress: ‘Yes, of course.’
Lars: ‘Well, there you go. Then they will do their job in case of such changes.’
The headmistress looked regretfully at Theodore, who was sitting on a chair next to his father and wiggling his legs back and forth, looking at the books.