I opened the door into the office. A window on the far wall. There was a desk and a secretary with a machine at the desk. A book was propped up in front of her, which she was reading as she filed her nails on a long, angular object. I stood in front of the desk for a while. “Yes?” she asked finally.
“I’m here to sign out.”
The three weeks wore on. I didn’t always have fun. It was my vacation, after all. I had worked to earn my vacation, back on Earth. I was supposed to be having fun, not wasting my time teaching alien kids. Why was I here? It was my vacation! But at times I halfway enjoyed it, which was odd because I never really had an interest in children, alien or human. But the kids were cute, the concepts were easy, and I spent the rest of the day reading, or swimming in the indoor pool adjacent to the large building, or walking the halls, peeking into the windows at other classes. Once I saw another class, older then mine, with a frizzy-haired woman in the front reading aloud from a book. “X plus five equals eight,” she read.
I opened a door into the classroom. There was one room for every age group and, unfortunately, I was supposed to be teaching the youngest age group. Just letters and numbers, the lead Intercepter told me. I was grateful they could speak English. Even at this early point in their life they were the same height as me, pea-green faces with large round eyes peeping at me through their brown clothing. They sat at desks in rows. If I had replaced the green creatures with slouching humans, with little imagination I could imagine the classroom like one in Earth.
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