#FlashFictionMagic: Shooting Stars

For thirty years Carol called her kindergarten pupils her shooting stars. In the hallway, she displayed their faces - tooth gaps, cowlicks, freckles and all - affixed to yellow star shapes with long glittery tails. From September to June, she helped them shine in their own ways. Strong readers, talented artists, math whizzes, athletic marvels - all of these and more were nurtured on this rainbow rug, those wooden chairs, these fuzzy carpet squares. Most teachers in the building changed grades, swapped classrooms, but Carol was content with her domain. Even now, looking around at the boxes containing all of her space-themed classroom decor, at the bare walls and clean whiteboards, she couldn’t imagine someone else taking over.

Her wistful thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the open door. A clean-cut young man in short-sleeved button-down and tie poked his head around the frame. He smiled broadly when she looked his way. “Mrs. Wyatt!” He strode into the room as if he owned it, and though he seemed impossibly young to Carol, she knew this must be her replacement.

“Edward Porter,” he said, offering his hand. He gazed around the room, still smiling. “Wow, it’s like stepping back in time.”

Carol felt her spine stiffen. Her methods were traditional, yes. The layout of her classroom hadn’t changed since the Clinton administration. But what was wrong with that? Five year olds were the same year in and year out. Her shooting stars had thrived here. This kid had probably graduated with his teaching degree two weeks ago. What did he know?

As she formulated her response, Edward turned to her and said, “You probably don’t remember me. In kindergarten, I was Ted Porter.” He moved between the little student tables and went and stood by one of the sturdy blue chairs. “I sat right here.”

Carol was hit with an instant flash of memory. Remove the tie, add some glasses, pull out his front teeth, and shrink him down about two feet, and there he was.

“Little Teddy Porter! I can’t believe it.” Carol felt so foolish for her assumptions. ”And you’re teaching kindergarten?”

“I will be, come September. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Though I wasn’t counting on having to fill such big shoes.”

“Oh, come on. I only wear a seven” Carol laughed, and Teddy - Edward - did too.

“Do you still do all that stuff with the shooting stars?”

“Oh, sure. I sent the last batch home with the kids yesterday.”

“Wow, that’s great,” Edward said. “I still have mine. I loved how you always showed us what we were good at. You told me I was an excellent painter.”

Carol felt bowled over. “You kept your shooting star from kindergarten?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve been thinking about doing something like that with my class.”

Carol turned to her desk. She reached into one of the cardboard boxes she was planning to carry home and pulled out a plastic-covered packet of thick cardstock shapes. These were shooting stars she had purchased and never used that until now she’d imagined would just go to waste.

“Would you want to do the same thing? Because I have these.”

Carol watched as Edward’s - Teddy’s - eyes lit up, and in that moment there was no mistaking that the man and the boy were one and the same.

“Seriously? You wouldn’t mind?”

If someone had asked her even twenty minutes ago if she’d want her replacement to come in and use her ideas, her traditions, she would have balked. But she couldn’t believe how much hope suddenly filled her at the thought of another group of shooting stars lining the old hallway, a new series of stars led by one of her own.

“Not at all,” Carol said, passing him the package. “I know you’ll shine now, just as you did then.”