Writer’s Block

Volunteering for her son’s school trip was chaotic— and rewarding

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Sharon, pictured with her youngest son, Grant, was born and raised in London, Ont., and now lives in Newmarket, Ont. She is an optometrist turned stay-at-home-mother to her four young boys. She has enjoyed creative writing as a hobby for many years and finds inspiration in day-to-day events, especially as a mother. She is always eager to learn new things and enjoys the outdoors, time with her kids and a quiet moment with a good book.

Iknew I was in trouble as I stepped off the school bus. The bus ride alone had given me a headache and now it was like I had entered a beehive. The 70-odd ten and 11-year-old kids milling about the local amusement park gates were in constant motion and the noise was a deafening drone. Our day had only just begun, and I was already questioning why I signed up to be a parent-volunteer for this school trip.

The kids had been allowed to make their own groups and one teacher or parent had been assigned to watch each group. My group, eight boys including my son, Jonathan, had gathered excitedly beside me.

“Hello boys, I’m Mary-ann, Jonathan’s mum.” I announced. “Hello? Boys?”

I wondered if they had heard me at all. Most were looking in the opposite direction and one kid was busy bouncing a tennis ball on the ground.

“Everyone’s here, Mum,” Jonathan said impatiently.

“Well, I don’t know everyone; why don’t you introduce me?”

Jonathan turned, pointed and spoke very quickly. “That’s Doug, Alex, Tyler, Jordan, Tyler, Marco and Cameron. Now let’s go!”

I scanned the group, trying to put the names to the faces. Did he say Tyler twice?

How the hell was I ever going to keep track of these kids? I figured I’d just have to count them.

“Remember, meet back here at 3 p.m. sharp!” my son’s teacher called as she walked away with her own little group. Her kids were walking quietly two by two, a perfect image of well-behaved children.

I looked back at my group. A few of them were competing to see who could make the loudest fart noise. I glanced at my watch and swallowed hard. 9:03 a.m. I have to entertain these kids for six hours? Really? I managed to distribute the admission tickets and get the boys through the gates without a problem. I counted the boys from one to eight. So far, so good.

“Where to first, boys?” I asked as I looked at the amusement park map.

“The water park!”

“Swing ride!”

“Roller coaster!”

“How ‘bout the go-karts?” said the kid with the tennis ball. “I’ve done those before.”

The other boys’ faces lit up as I listened to a chorus of “yeahs” and “awesomes.”

My face fell. The go-karts sounded more dangerous than the roller coaster. At least they wouldn’t be driving the roller coaster.

I thought for a moment. “Well, that’s on the opposite side of the park, why don’t we start with something close by and work our way around? That way we won’t miss anything.” All the boys seemed to see the logic

in this plan except that kid with the tennis ball. My son addressed him:

“Don’t worry, Cameron. We’ll do the gokarts later, right, Mum?”

“Sure,” I muttered.

After every activity, I’d count the boys from one to eight and then look at my watch. By the time we sat down for lunch I realized that everyone was having a good time and I even knew which Tyler was which. Things were going really well.

And then, Cameron said something that made me nearly choke on my hot dog.

“If anyone gets in my way on the go-karts, I’ll knock you off the track!” he snickered.

I admonished him quickly: “We don’t want to hear talk like that, okay?”

Cameron just shrugged.

After lunch we hit the water park and the mini-golf course…six, seven, eight. “Go-karts!” one of the boys shouted. Uh-oh.

“Go-karts, go-karts!” the boys chanted. “You promised, Mum.” Jonathan tugged at my arm.

“Okay,” I relented.

We approached the go-karts and a roar that sounded like a thousand lawn mowers. Then a small miracle happened. It turned out that all but two were too short to drive a go-kart. Six grumbling kids, including Jonathan, returned to my side.

“Maybe next year,” I smiled. But it wasn’t over yet. Before I had time to ask if their helmets were on properly, Cameron and Doug were tearing out onto the track.

After a few minutes, I began to relax a little. They seemed to be handling the contraptions okay and Cameron was miles ahead of Doug, far enough apart that I wasn’t worried about the two of them colliding—or was I? Cameron was going so fast that he had rounded the track and was approaching Doug from behind. My eyes widened as Cameron got closer and closer.

“Careful!” I cried out.

Cameron cut Doug off and took the lead. Doug’s go-kart weaved and then after a tense moment thankfully became stable again. The moment I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, I heard an ear-splitting SMASH. Oh no.

I opened my eyes and whipped my head over to see Cameron’s go-kart careening through the rubber tires lining the track. I heard Cameron yell out as the kart turned sharply and then flipped on its side before finally coming to a stop. Oh no! Oh no!

I sprang into action, pushing my way onto the track. I reached Cameron’s kart, panting, my face white with fear. Cameron looked up at me with wide eyes. “That… was...awesome,” he breathed and started to grin. I looked at him dumbfounded, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. I jumped as one of the amusement park workers came up behind me.

“Happens a few times a week, Ma’am,” the worker said as he deftly turned Cameron’s kart back to the upright position. Before I could respond, Cameron revved his engine and was off once more. Mercifully, the rest of the ride was uneventful.

On the bus ride home, the kids were all talking about Cameron’s death-defying gokart adventure. Cameron himself had embellished the story a fair bit. I hadn’t exactly counted but I was pretty sure the kart hadn’t flipped over five times.

However it had happened, I felt pretty sheepish as the parent-volunteer responsible for Cameron. I slumped down in my seat and quietly vowed not to volunteer again.

“Hey, Mum?” Jonathan was sitting on the bus seat next to me.

“Yes, Honey?”

“You were pretty great today.

I’m really glad you came.”

I gave my son’s hand a squeeze.

Suddenly, I remembered why

I had volunteered in the first place. ■