Unwanted child - стр. 12
Headmistress: ‘The second exactly the same rest room is upstairs. The bed linen is changed four times a day, per child. The room is regularly disinfected with ultraviolet light’.
Father of one of the children: ‘But how do they fall asleep so quietly strictly according to your schedule? I can't put mine to bed for hours!’
Headmistress: ‘The secret lies in the sounds of nature used to put the children to sleep. On top of that, we use special speakers that emit certain vibrations into the air, which also contribute to a successful sedation. Right now, you don't feel it because you're outside. But once you get inside, lie down in bed and immerse yourself in this atmosphere of calm and serenity for a while, your eyes will start to close as if you had taken a powerful sleeping pill.
The same worried mum who asked the question in the chemistry room and many others: ‘Isn't it dangerous? Isn't this music of yours going to affect the children's hearing in any bad way?’
The headmistress looked at the mum with a look that was both tired and incomprehensible. A disgruntled mutter ran through the crowd. This woman, always asking the most questions and fretting about safety more than anyone else, had become somewhat of a major annoyance to those around her.
Headmistress: ‘As I have said before, I repeat: the safety of children comes first for us. As well as their health. You can rely on us for that.
The mum continued to press on, obviously not fully understanding the answer, ‘So there is no danger?’
A rumble of discontent spread through the crowd again. The headmistress gritted her teeth, took a deep breath and exhaled, then answered the annoying woman in a steady and monotonous voice: ‘No, there is no danger to her hearing.’
The tour around the main building of the CEC took some more time, after which the group stopped near the office of the headmistress, which was located on the ground floor, and parents took turns to go inside to settle some formalities with documents. Finally, it was the Davels' turn. Lars sat his son on one of the chairs near the desk of the head of the Centre, and sat down next to him on the next one. The little boy, chattering with his legs began to look around. All the space around the perimeter was filled with bookshelves. They were cluttered with various fiction and educational literature, the names of which Theodore could not read yet. So he just admired the colourful covers.
Lars: ‘So, when can I give you the boy?’
Headmistress: ‘You say that as if you want to get rid of him.’