Since his early childhood years, Isa did become a miracle – a miracle of an outstanding stupidity and stupendous parenting gone horribly wrong. Most toddlers have occasional tantrums, but Isa was an exceptionally talented drama queen, a spoiled brat whose frequent defiance against his parent’s wishes were well worth an Oscar. Isa’s mother, Nona and father, Ati struggled with their resilient child. Throughout the first three months of his attendance in the nursery, Isa’s face was moisturised by beads of tears flowing out of his brown eyes. Every morning he pleaded with his mother not to leave him at the nursery. Then, one morning, as Nona handed a tiny grey rucksack to Isa’s teacher standing on the other side of the nursery’s entrance door, Isa firmly clenched her feet. Nona tried to explain to Isa that every child hates their kindergarten in the first days, but later will hate leaving it. “You are in the good hands of Miss Mesuese. The two of you will get on fine.”
“But, we won’t!” Alexander complained. “She’s constantly telling me what to do as if I’m one of her toys.”
“That is a cruel observation, Isa!” Nona replied firmly.“ You should apologise, right now!”
“You see! That’s exactly what she does to me, all the time.” Alexander confessed. “She constantly tells me what to do, as if she is my mother.”
Miss Mesuese was looking at him with a compassionate smile, clinching on his grey bag with her right hand. Nona stood up, and as she was about to leave, she apologised to the teacher. Nona held out her hands and bent over to forcefully engulf Isa’s tiny body into her arms. Alexander resisted and pushed her with his small grubby hands, looking down. Miss Mesuese tapped Nona’s left shoulder. After straightening her body, Nona left the entrance lobby and walked towards Ati, her husband waiting for her in his car. Nona stepped inside the car and closed the passenger door without saying a word.
After noticing Nona’s frowning face, Ati tried to reason with her. “Don’t you stress yourself over this, Nona!”
“But, I do not want to see him traumatised,” Nona confessed.
“Unless you are contemplating Isa’s premature death, there’s no escape from seeing him traumatised,” Ati concluded, and then laughed. “After all, he will eventually get married one day!”
A week later, Isa immersed himself into massacring strawberries at his nursery. Isa’s face was smeared with red juice as if he didn’t realise that fruits are for eating and not for face painting. Isa grabbed the empty plastic bowl and walked towards his teacher. Once he got within arms’ reach for her teacher, he pulled her red leather skirt.
The teacher turned around and asked. “What’s the matter, Alex?”
“Could I have some more?” Alexander asked, lifting up his yellow bowl.
“What’s the magic word?”
“Abracadabra!” Alexander replied.
What a fucking loser! I’m not making this shit up. He really said it.
The teacher laughed embarrassingly, covering her mouth with her long-slim fingers and tipped her head to the right. After she calmed down, she bowed towards Alexander. She stretched out her left index finger, holding it upwards and swinging it like a metronome pendulum.
“Did I say something wrong?” Alexander asked, glancing up at his teacher and seeking some guidance.
“No!” the teacher replied instantly, and after a brief hesitation, she added. “Your reply is ludicrously flawless, but that’s not the magic word I was looking for!”
“Hocus Pocus?” Alexander took another wild guess.
The teacher laughed again before replying. “Wrong again! It’s more like Hocus Pleasus!”
Global education platform, my arse! This kid doesn’t even know the difference between the magic word for tricking others and for attaining something. Yet, miraculously, the future of mankind depends on him. Oddly enough, the nursery was called Bright Kids Nursery.