Don’t get me wrong. I took the job in the first place primarily because, well, I love kids. Difficult as they can be sometimes, they’re sweet and adorable and I think I get along with them very well. The second reason was definitely the surprisingly good pay, though; I can’t deny that wasn’t a factor. Money is a human motivator.
I’ve worked at Gold Garden Daycare for almost a year now. It’s not a hard job at all, I just need to make sure I keep an eye on all the kids and keep them entertained. A lot of them are good kids, if a little messy. But something happened that, like I said, has made me want to quit. If I can even afford to.
Last week, I came in first in the morning. I didn’t have the keys. So, I just sat down on the bench outside, browsing through my phone while I waited for the owner to show up. She was a sweet old lady with a lot of grandkids. Though she usually came in before me, I wasn’t worried. It was an early morning.
While I was waiting, an unfamiliar fancy car pulled into the parking lot. A tall woman got out. The woman was, honestly, one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. She was slim, with her platinum blonde hair cascading in waves down her shoulders. She wore a red blazer and pencil skirt with gold trim, the buttons reflecting the streetlights that had yet to turn off for the morning. She smiled at me and approached the bench where I was sitting. I could make out her face in more detail now, seeing the beauty mark in the corner of her eye and the minimal makeup that dusted her cheeks.
I felt a little small next to her. I was never especially insecure about my looks, but she was just so stunning that I felt ugly in comparison.
“Good morning,” She chirped, smiling again. “Is the daycare open?”
I almost choked on my words as I responded. “It’ll be open as soon as the owner gets here!”
“That’s good to hear. I have work, would you mind keeping an eye on my son until the place opens up? I’ll arrange everything properly when I come back to pick him up. Payment and all that.”
I hesitated. Part of me was yelling that I couldn’t be letting someone’s kid stay if they hadn’t paid, but another part didn’t want to refuse a customer. I’m sure the owner won’t mind, right? “That’s fine.” I told her finally.
The woman smiled kindly and turned back to her car. “Doyle! Come here, meet the nice daycare lady.”
I fidgeted as a kid climbed out of the car, shutting the door and walking up slowly. He had blond hair like his mother, but it was curly and short. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. His mother put her hand on his shoulder and smiled at me yet again. “This is Doyle. He’s three, I hope that’s okay.”
“It is, don’t worry.” I reassured the woman. She patted her son on the head.
“I’m glad. I’ve got to be going, but thank you very much. I’ll be back this afternoon to make arrangements, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
The woman crouched down next to her son. “Be good for the daycare people, okay? Mama will be back this afternoon.” Doyle could barely look at his mother either, but he nodded, and the woman strode back to her car before driving off.
I turned my attention to Doyle. He sat down on the bench, looking down at his hands and not saying a word to me. “I’m Miss Kaylie. Nice to meet you, Doyle!” I said to him, trying to be friendly. Doyle didn’t say a word in response. Trepidation crept up my spine, but I sat next to him on the bench.
“Have you ever been to daycare before?”
Still nothing. He didn’t look at me, or even make a single noise. I decided I should wait for the owner to get here and open up before I talked to him again.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to sit in silence for long. The owner’s silver old car arrived in the parking lot. The gentle old woman hobbled out of the car, clutching her purse and taking out the keys. I got up and hurried over to her car to help her.
“Mrs. Garcia- here, I’ll unlock the building. I hope it’s okay, but I let a woman leave her son here. She said she’d make the arrangements when she came back to pick him up.” I explained as I took the keys. I didn’t realize until I was done that I hadn’t let her get a word out.
Mrs. Garcia smiled up at me regardless. “That’s fine, dear. Thank you for opening up.”
I was overcome with a wash of relief as I went up to the front doors to unlock them. Doyle got up behind me and waddled inside, sitting down in a beanbag chair and still refusing to look at me.
Other than Doyle just sitting there a little creepily, opening went smoothly, and other parents with their children started arriving along with the other attendants. Everything was normal until Doyle walked up to me.
“Miss daycare lady?” He asked. His voice was… weirdly scratchy for a three year old. He sounded eerily like he’d been breathing in smoke.
I crouched down in front of him, smiling. “I’m Miss Kaylie. How can I help you? Are you hungry?”
Doyle nodded, still refusing to look me in the eye. I got up and retrieved some crackers and applesauce for him. When I came back, Doyle was gone.
Confused, I looked around, trying to spot the curly blond boy among the other kids. But I couldn’t find him. I started to get a little worried that he ran out the door or something. Then I heard something behind me.
I turned around and saw Doyle standing on a table, staring directly at me.
I blinked. Doyle was on the floor again, right in front of me, back to not looking right at me. He reached up, his short arms unable to reach the crackers and applesauce in my hands.
Shaking my head, I handed him the snacks, trying to make sense of what I just saw. Doyle plopped down at one of the chairs and started eating.
I decided I had to have just been seeing things. Maybe I had gotten up too early and I was sleep deprived. If that really happened, someone else would’ve seen it. I should take tomorrow off if it happens again.
And it did.
Doyle approached me again with his trash and held it up to me. As soon as I took it, he lifted his head slightly and spoke. “I’m still hungry.” His scratchy voice grew horrifyingly deep with those three words.
I looked around at the other kids and attendants. Everyone else was playing with each other or reading. No one seemed to have heard that. So, once again, I decided I was just tired. I was definitely going to be taking tomorrow off, though.
“You’ll have to wait until lunch. Sorry, Doyle.” I told him politely, taking his trash. I could barely see his face through his thick mop of hair, but I could tell he was frowning.
“But I’m hungry now.” He said. His voice was normal again now. At least, it was no longer as deep as an adult man’s.
I mentally prepared myself to need to bargain with the kid. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, something like this. One of the children getting upset that they couldn’t eat yet.
“I know, I’m so sorry. Lunch is just in about an hour, so don’t worry. We’ve got lots of things you can do in the meantime!” I gestured broadly to the rest of the playroom. Doyle only frowned at me again.
“I’m hungry.”
“I’m sorry that you are, but hopefully those snacks will tide you over until lunch.”
Doyle didn’t say anything for a while. I wasn’t sure what to do until he lifted his head, his hair finally falling out of his eyes. They were such an odd shade of brown I could’ve mistaken them for red.
“Miss Kaylie?”
“Yes?”
“I’m hungry now.”
I just smiled at him tiredly and opened my mouth to explain he would have to wait again. Before I could get a word out, though, he bit me.
Little teeth sunk into my arm, just further from my hand than my wrist. I couldn’t help but cry out in pain. It HURT. I’d been nibbled on by kids before, but this hurt much, much worse. I squeezed my eyes shut and clutched where he had attempted to ravage my arm, immediately feeling blood spilling from my flesh into my hand. I peeked at it to see the wound already beginning to turn purple. Doyle just stood there looking at me as if he’d done nothing. Like he was watching me pretend to be in pain.
“Kaylie!!” One of my coworkers rushed over, grabbing my arm and seeing why I was making such a fuss. “Oh, oh no. Human bites can get infected, bad, I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“I’ll just treat it myself-” I started to tell her weakly, but the pain was too much. Tears began to spill from my eyes, dripping down my cheeks. As soon as they started welling up, Doyle began hissing at me loudly.
My coworker grabbed me and pulled me away from Doyle, who was now practically snarling. I sniffed, still crying salty tears. Another dribbled down my arm and hit the carpeted floor, making Doyle back away from me and hiss again. He waved his arms wildly as if trying to scratch me. Not that he did; he had backed out of range.
The bite mark on my arm was only throbbing with more and more pain by the second. The purple-ish bruise and redness were starting to spread as I was rushed to the car and soon the hospital. I could do nothing but watch the pain shoot through my arm, colors spreading, blood dripping, bite marks seeming to grow deeper and darker the longer I stared at it.
We had reached the hospital in good time, but the waiting game was killing me. The pain was completely unbearable. The bruising was covering almost my entire arm at that point, and the bite marks were so deep it felt as if he had bitten right through the whole thing. My veins pulsed and seemed to shriek in pain right alongside every other molecule in my arm.
Finally, I was brought to a doctor. The man in his lab coat took one glance at my arm and announced I needed surgery immediately.
I don’t remember much between that and when I woke up afterward. I was drugged very quickly, put on so many painkillers it felt like even my brain had gone numb. And when I opened my eyes again, I still had a hard time moving.
That same doctor joined me in my hospital room not long after I awoke. He smiled at me from where he stood at the foot of the bed. “Don’t worry, I understand. It happens to the best of us.”
Unsure what he was talking about, I just blinked a few times. The doctor’s gaze shifted down at my injured arm, which I still couldn’t feel. I mustered up the energy to turn my head and look at the wound.
But the painkillers weren’t the reason I had no sensation in my arm. That was because it was gone.
I could do little more than make a noise of shock. The doctor just shook his head. “So sorry about the hospital bills, but I’ll be paying for your prosthetic personally.”
I managed to turn my head back to face him directly. The doctor smiled and pulled up his sleeve, revealing a prosthetic arm of his own. “That child is serious trouble.”
I write this now because my roommate has only just found the time to bring in my phone and laptop. As soon as I’m done typing this, I’m going to put in my two weeks digitally, and then take those two weeks off because I’m still in the hospital.
I don’t blame the owner, and I do feel a little guilty that I’ll be quitting on her. But there’s no chance in hell I’m going back to that place when that kid could still be there.