A very short story
Nando could no longer concentrate on his English lessons. He was an exchange student from Nicaragua, and after struggling to understand some of his classes, the teachers had recommended he'd take a second course every day after school, covering basic vocabulary skills as wel as proper grammar and punctuation. The first couple of weeks had been relatively easy, yet as lessons kept on piling day after day with no time to sink in, it had taken very little time to make Nando confused with even the simplest words and sentences. To be surrounded by a world he couldn't communicate with made him deeply uncomfortable to the point he once told beautiful Miss Helena...
"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't do THIS. I... I don't... Todo es tan confuso y no lo entiendo. Sólo quiero regresar de donde vengo. And maybe I don't have to be here anymore. I quit. I'm sorry. Ni siquiera... I can't even remember basic words sometimes."
Miss Helena was a slender woman with a warm skin tone who wore very long skirts and very tight blouses with pride. Black rimmed glasses accentuated her big brown eyes, much like her small delicate face framed a fragile welcoming mouth.
She had started her career as a teacher five years earlier; she'd fought back against the usual obstacles the system made for young teachers from foreign backgrounds, and she became the most respected teacher at St. L...'s College. No student had ever failed her class. And Nando would not be the first.
"Give me a week. If I can't find a way to motivate you by the end of the week, I don't desserve your time or your attention."
Nando accepted, starting five difficult days in Helena's life. On Monday, she brought challenging, compelling, prime examples of children's literature. On Tuesday, she brought visual resources, and placed them on the blackboard so Nando could establish connections between columns of words and pictures. On Wednesday they watched a movie and discussed it. On Thursday, she tried to teach him a song. On Friday, she returned to the usual teaching style, fearing she'd failed at her task until...
"May I use the restroom?" asked an impatient Nando putting his pencil between the open pages of a colorful book.
"Yes, you may."
Helena pondered on her failings as an educator before the clock hanging on the wall marked ten minutes since Nando's academic intermission. Fearing her student had fallen ill, Helena ran to the school washroom, pushed her ear near the wooden door, but before she could knock, and ask if everything was okay, she heard a moan.
Said moan was followed by repeated rythmic wet squishes, and the repeated rythmic wet squishes were followed by more moans. Helena blushed when she realized what Fernando was doing inside. This behavior was certainly unacceptable in school. However, since the kid was going through so much, he had earned a break. She told herself she'd just go back to her classroom, in the empty school, and wait for him, then pretend she'd never found out about the masturbatory activites. Sadly, her plan was interrupted by masturbatory dialogue.
"Blow me, Ms. Helena. Chúpeme la verga. Oh yeah. Muéstreme esas tetitas"
This was the point where Ms Helena's mind left the protocol and her hand moved to her privates. She knew how to motivate him now. She knew how to motivate the fuck out of him, alright.
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Some time later, Ms. Helena was calmly sitting down at the front of the classroom, while Nando doodled around the edges of the book.
"I want to try something with you, today. Something very different. Since today is our last session, I thought maybe you'd like to celebrate. Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to point something, and if you say the right word for that something in English, you'll be able to touch it. This is a kinesthetic experiment, therefore, feel free to touch any of the objects as much as you feel like it. Okay?"
He nodded. First she pointed to the typical classroom objects: the chalk, the chalkboard, the curtains, the walls, the window, the drapes, markers, seats, books, pens and pencils, erasers, scissors, etc. It was then when she pointed to her hand.
"Mano. I mean hand." Nando said. She nodded. He reached out tentatively. She reached out and put her hand in his.
"Touch however you feel is necessary," she said.
He placed his thumb in the center of the palm, slowly applying pressure as if giving a hand massage. She moaned.
She then pointed to a ring on her middle finger.
"Ring" he said. Nando removed the ring from her finger, getting to feel the delicate countours of her skin.
