A young man was standing in the front office when I reported for sub duty this morning. "Oh, Ms. S!" the coordinator greeted me, "Maybe you can answer his question." She gestured toward the guy.
"When do we get paid?" he asked me.
"Oh, it takes a minute!" I laughed. "They pay us twice a month, but it's for the pay period before. I just got paid for the first couple of weeks of September last week."
He nodded in understanding, and there was something about his dark brown eyes, curly hair, and high cheekbones that seemed familiar to me.
"Did you go here?" I asked him.
He nodded. "Just for one year."
"Sixth grade, right?" I said. "What's your name?"
I recognized it the minute he told me. "I was your English teacher! Remember?"
He shrugged apologetically, but the sub coordinator was delighted. "What was he like then?" she asked.
He looked a little embarrassed. "He was very energetic," I answered diplomatically.
"My parents always tell me that being a substitute is my karma for the way I acted," he said. "So I make sure I'm extra patient with the students."
"They're lucky to have you, then," I replied, "because that's not always easy," and he smiled for the first time in the conversation.
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