Charlotte

Dear Judith,

The books were arranged perfectly on the table, and five pencils, sharpened beautifully, stand upright in the pencil cup. The floor is swept, the windows clean. She brushes her hair and pulls on the wrinkles in her shirt, looking up when she hears her name.

"Charlotte, it's time to go," her mother says, leaning on the door frame. "Are you alright, honey?"

"I'm fine," Charlotte briskly replies, hoping that her mother doesn't notice her unsteady gaze and weak voice. Her mother eyes her suspiciously, then, shrugging her shoulders, grabs her keys and the two descend the steep cement staircase, Charlotte nearly tripping on the last step, the one that always seemed to reach for her, hoping to keep her from leaving her apartment, from entering the world, from growing up.

The drive to their destination is short, much too short for Charlotte. She is off her seat before her mother has shifted from Drive to Park. Looking out the windshield, she sees a woman saying goodbye to a little boy. The woman looks up, smiles at the car, and runs inside the building behind her. Charlotte falls back on the seat, closing her eyes and wishing that she could just disappear.

The front passenger door opens and the woman sits down, buckling her seatbelt and looks back at Charlotte. She smiles, but Charlotte notices that she never loosens her grip on her verdant satchel. Charlotte wonders if maybe this woman is as nervous as she, but quickly dismisses the thought. "There's no reason for her to be nervous about meeting me," thought Charlotte.

Within a minute, they were back at the apartment, climbing the stairs and entering the living room. Charlotte usually loved the pink glow of the spacious room, but today, she resented it. Removing her shoes, she slipped into the room and sat down. She started rifling through her backpack, hoping to look busy enough to delay conversation, if only for a moment. The woman entered the room, looked around, then shut the door. She smiled again at Charlotte, inspiring her to take a deep breath and begin their task.

Conversation felt awkward as Charlotte began her homework. It was easy enough that Charlotte knew she could do it on her own. The woman sat and watched her, however, and that made concentration difficult. Quickly, she began the next page, horrified to see that she didn't understand it at all. Looking up, she asked the question she had been dreading for a week.

"Can you help me? I don't understand it."

"Of course," the woman replied and proceeded to explain the suffixes and prefixes that confused the ten year old girl.

Charlotte was beginning to feel a little better, until the woman asked her to read out loud. She wanted to curl up and die everytime she misread a word, but the woman didn't seem to mind at all.

When the story was over, the woman surprised Charlotte by asking about her hobbies and interests, and the most amazing part was, this woman actually seemed interested. Charlotte soon grew comfortable enough to ramble on about the kids in her class, and the woman never seemed to lose interest.

Before she even realized it, the hour was over and the woman picked up her bag, asking if she could get a ride home. Charlotte's mother asked if she liked her new tutor, a question which she simply nodded to. The three of them walked down the stairs and Charlotte again caught her foot on the last step, but this time, she didn't mind so much. In the car, on the way to the woman's house, Charlotte smiled at her earlier trepidation.

When the woman got out of the car at her house, Charlotte called out to her. "See you next week!" The woman turned, grinned and nodded. Charlotte noticed that her tutor no longer held tightly to her bag, and her smile was genuine. She leaned back in her seat, and laughed quietly to herself. All the nervousness was gone, and Charlotte began to look forward to their next session.