What Fits in My Pocket?

Juno pressed both hands against the blue nursery door. “I cannot go in,” she said, though the door was not shut. It stood wide open, with Miss Bea smiling beside it and a row of tiny rain boots underneath the bench. Juno’s yellow jumper felt scratchy at the neck. Her tummy felt as if she had swallowed a worried little hedgehog. Mum held Juno’s red backpack, and Juno held Mum’s coat very tightly. “I want to say goodbye without crying,” Juno whispered. Then her eyes filled anyway.

“We could do our biggest wave,” said Mum. She gave a wave so enormous that her sleeve flapped. Juno tried. She lifted one hand, waggled two fingers, and made a sound like a squeaky gate. But when Mum took one step toward the grown-up gate at the end of the hall, Juno’s waggling hand grabbed Mum’s coat again. The tears came plopping out. Miss Bea brought a box of tissues, but tissues could only catch tears. They could not make goodbye smaller.

Miss Bea knelt beside Juno. “Would you like to look at our picture timetable?” she asked. On the classroom wall were pictures in a row: a sun for arriving, paint pots for painting, a plate for lunch, a bed for rest time, fruit slices for snack, and a red front door for home time. “That last picture means someone comes back,” said Miss Bea. Juno peered at the red door. She liked knowing where Mum would come from, but the pictures seemed very far away. She still could not let go.

At the door, Juno held Mum’s hand. She wanted to cling. She wanted Mum to come to the paint table and stay until lunch and perhaps until the red-door picture. Then Juno felt the felt heart in her fist. She looked at Miss Bea, who was holding out a tray of clay and buttons. Juno took one long breath. “One squeeze,” she said. She squeezed Mum’s hand. Mum squeezed back. “See you after nursery,” said Mum. Juno swallowed, put the heart safely in her backpack’s zipped front pocket, and walked through the blue door beside Miss Bea.

The clay was cool and brown. Juno rolled it into a round cake, pressed the shiny nobody-button on top, and made three more button biscuits for the play kitchen. When the tears tried to return, she touched the pocket heart through the backpack pocket. Then she went to the picture timetable. “Paint, lunch, rest, snack,” she read in her own way, tapping each picture. “Then red door.” Miss Bea helped her make a red felt flag for the top of her clay cake. “That is for home time,” Juno explained.