Tea Party

     She wore round, steel rimmed glasses, and a faded, flower-patterned dress. Her jaw was slack, and her eyes didn't seem to focus. She had what some call the "idiot" look. To a new substitute attendant on a special education school bus, she was frightening. After all, I was supposed to take care of people like this, and I was afraid of her. I was afraid of what she might do next.
     She lived several miles out of town, so there was a time when she was the only pupil on the bus. She stared at me and grimaced. I felt uncomfortable. I suddenly realized she was trying to smile, but her face wouldn't work. I got my courage together and sat beside her.
     Thus began the most unusual and interesting "conversation" of my life.  She looked at me and made the motions of holding a tea cup. So I did the same. She put her invisible tea cup down on an invisible table, and made the motions of pouring into her cup with an invisible teapot. She held her invisible teapot and looked at me. She raised her eyebrows with an inquiring expression. I nodded and said yes.
     My hands were sweating with nervousness. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know if I should be doing it. I had a nightmare vision of trying to explain my tea party to my new employers. What if there was some kind of complaint? What if the bus driver reported me? All I was supposed to do was keep the handicapped children quiet and safe-- meaning: don't let them bother the driver, or get hurt, and keep their seat belts securely fastened. We were told not to become friends with the pupils. I had no medical training. I was not told what was wrong with any of my charges. What would she do next? Freak out? Become violent? Have an attack of some erotic sort? Attack me? What would I do then?
      She motioned to me with her invisible teapot, and with a motion so natural that it was hard to believe she wasn't holding a teapot, poured into my cup. I motioned to her that I had enough. I didn't want the invisible tea all over my pants from an overflowing cup. She pantomimed asking me if I wanted sugar. I shook my head no. She sipped her tea and looked pleased. She looked at me inquiringly. Not to be outdone, I did the same. She grimaced a smile at me, and I began to relax.
      I was beginning to enjoy our tea party. I saw the driver of the bus frowning at me through the student mirror. I lifted my imaginary tea cup to the driver in a salute. My companion, who I decided wasn't so bad looking after all, was smiling and happy. Was there something besides tea in that imaginary pot?
     After the party the girl went through some motions which I understood were the taking of blood pressure, temperature, etc. She was the doctor and I was the patient. I was struck with a realization. She couldn't be all that stupid if she could remember and repeat accurately the procedures of a physical examination-- which she was doing.
     She left the bus at a cabin in the woods. A woman was there who was not friendly. The lost "idiot look" came back to the girl's face as she was led away, with just one desperate glance back at me. When she was in the house the woman came back and said with a tone of disgust, "I wish they would do something with her. We don't know what to do." I felt like saying, "Maybe a little love and understanding would help."

      In spite of my fears, the only aftermath of this very memorable experience was a glimpse I had of the girl's face the next day at school as she came out to her bus. Her face was full of eager, hopeful, and fearful anticipation, as she looked for me. I wasn't on her bus. I was on another bus, where I was filling in for an absent attendant. I never saw the girl again. I heard the driver of my tea party companion's bus say to another driver, "He actually talks to those people!" I regret now that I didn't work out some way I could see her again and maybe help lighten the desperate, lonely, dismal world she lived in. At least I could have talked to her on that second day. But how could I explain that I couldn't attend another tea party? I keep wondering if, and hoping, she has found other tea party companions.  Prince