filled out, including giving him a boatload of vaccinations he’d never had.
“He has no record of any vaccinations?” The nurse had asked me with more than a hint of censure in her voice and I’d shrugged apologetically.
“He’s… he’s not mine.” I regretted phrasing it that way as soon as I said the words. Dylan’s expression didn’t change, but I felt something from him, a sort of mental flinch. “I’m his foster mother,” I amended. “He’s been living with us for the last nine days.”
Dylan did spookily well with the needles. I remembered having to hold a screaming Emma down with the help of two nurses, but Dylan simply sat there, and he didn’t even make a sound when the needle went in—again and again, because he had to have so many. By the time we were done, both arms were speckled with colorful Band-Aids, and he’d stayed completely silent.
“Aren’t you a brave boy?” the nurse said, thawing from earlier, but then she gave me a look of sympathy, as if she knew Dylan’s reaction, or lack of it, to having the vaccinations was a bit off. It had made things easier, especially since he had to have another round in two months, but it seemed weird; I’d been fully expecting to have to have him in a wrestling hold while the nurse administered the shots. I realized then how little I understood him; I didn’t know what upset him, or what didn’t.
We went to Dunkin Donuts afterwards for what was meant to be a post-doctor treat, but as soon as the door closed behind us, Dylan started screaming. I hustled him out as quickly as I could, wondering why Dunkin Donuts set him off and four needles into his arms didn’t, and we had a chocolate milk at home instead.
And now we’re here, and I really am wondering how this is going to work.
“So this is your new school, Dylan,” I say as I help him out of the car. He has a new lunchbox—a Cars one, like his backpack—and he carries it carefully, like a briefcase. He hasn’t responded to any of the changes in the last few days how I expected him to—with resistance, screaming, tantrums. He’d just been eerily silent and wide-eyed, blank-faced. It’s definitely a little spooky, but at least it makes it easier. Still, I’m worried about leaving him. He looks so small.
We walk hand in hand to the doors; the principal, a friendly, round-faced woman, and Dylan’s special ed assistant, a hip-looking African-American woman with braided, waist-length hair, are waiting for him in the office as we come in. They both give him wide smiles as we enter the room, and while Dylan doesn’t smile back, he doesn’t scream, either.
I feel myself start to relax just a little. Maybe this is actually going to be okay. I fill out a bunch of paperwork, and listen to the principal explain the plan for Dylan’s adjustment to school, but at this point it’s so much white noise. I’ve heard it all before from Susan, how he needs a 504 plan until he can get an IEP—phrases I’d never heard before now, but meant he would get the help he needed in school. The IEP, or Individual Education Plan, comes with an official diagnosis, and how the steps of the plan will be reviewed weekly, in a meeting with the principal, the classroom teacher, the special education assistant, and Susan, who will inform me of any changes.
It reminds me that even though I have the most responsibility for Dylan right now, even though I’m the one tucking him in at night and making sure his teeth are brushed, I don’t get any say in things like this. I just get to be kept informed.
Ten minutes later, it’s time for me to say goodbye, and suddenly my throat goes tight. I’ve only known this little boy for a week and a half, but right now he’s looking at me with his big hazel eyes full of so much trust and yet also fear, and I feel as if I’m betraying him… which makes me wonder, uncomfortably, how Beth must feel.
“So you’re going to stay at school, Dylan,” I say, crouching down so I’m eye-level with him. I’ve told him this before, but it bears repeating now. “And I’ll pick you up at the end of the day, at three-twenty. And then you can tell me everything that happened, okay? All the exciting things you did.” Why I’m suddenly