Dr. Scary and Mrs. Marbles (2/4)

The Managing Director hired Dr. Scary Snobson two years ago to open the facility. He had a Ph.D in Reports and Updates. He loved organization, management, forms, protocol, procedures, paper and bureaucratic drone head duties. 

He recruited former Peace Corpse teachers to establish foreign faces and mouths in front of spoiled elementary kids and parents. Marketing 101. He practiced Hathaway yoga and invested his princely salary in offshore rice paddy accounts near Burmese refugee camps bordering Thailand. He was thrilling and running scared.

Did he run for fun?

He ran in the tropical sun for sums. Kids in = count cash. Numbers numbed wealthy Burmese wallets. Pay here. Drop kid at classroom ABC. Minders/babysitters/Myanmar female educators in training will take care of them until you pick them up at 3:30. If you're late we sell them to China. A boy is worth $3,500 in a one-child Orwellian culture.

I have two boys, said a Burmese parent. Do I get a discount?

It depends on their passing a physical with Nurse Dull, said Dr. Scary. Let me ask my passive Taiwanese wife. She's very proud of her green card. She talks like her mouth's full of marbles. She believes in acquiescence.

You mean the sad-eyed, lights on-no one home, reactive space cadet wearing the cheap floppy Chinese hat, Gloria Swanson sunglasses and magic slippers inherited from her grandmother outside the gate-less gate standing lost and forlorn Monday-Friday mornings as horrendous traffic spewed noxious hydrocarbons into faces of emotionally deprived children next to struggling nanny slaves dragging children's suitcases of books and carrying bright plastic baskets of food as parents, wearing diamond and imperial green jade jewelry necklaces, yakked on cell phones strolling to classrooms with their darlings at the tall gleaming metropolis of a school?

Her marble mouth machine droned her official mandatory sequence. Park here. Leave kids here. Parents ignored her.

That's her. She's his baby. Her attention span was shorter than an apology to Burmese parents of neglected children about the hidden cost and quality of grandiose theoretical classless plans. Read the fine print. You paid suckers.