Maybe I am going nuts. But why did the principal’s kind offer leave me feeling so uncomfortable?
The door is closed. If only it would never open. The brass plaque on the door is all official: Giveret Davidowitz — Principal. I had never yet glimpsed the stark walls inside. The principal’s office was made for different kids. Kids who barely toed the line, kids who struggled. I definitely was not one of them. So why had I been summoned? I lean against the wall; I can barely stand straight. I wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt. And then the door creaks open.
“Dafna?” she calls authoritatively. Her words are brusque. My heart is somewhere between my knees and my toes. She smooths down her sheitel bangs as she sits in her stiff chair. The walls are not at all what I imagined. They’re blue. And covered with numerous portraits and framed compositions. My heartbeat slows down just a bit.
It is some moments before she begins to speak. “I know that you’re going through a rough time,” she begins cautiously. “And I’m here to make the situation easier.”
My eyes roam everywhere — from “Dedicated by Alumni of ’15” picture to the “#1 Principal” plaque.
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