The bench beside the lower playground was Nora’s bench on Tuesdays. Since the second week of school, she had sat there every Tuesday recess. The bench faced the right direction. The equipment shed blocked the north wind. Halfway through recess, the shadow reached the bench.

Tuesday arrived correctly. Lunch was the right lunch. The hallway to the lower playground was open. Nora was fourth in line, which was workable. She came through the doors and looked toward the bench. A woman sat on it. Not a student. An adult. She had a lanyard, a tote bag, a paper coffee cup, and a clipboard. She sat in the middle of the bench. There was not space on either side.

Nora stopped walking. Someone behind her said, “Go.” She moved to the side near the door. Today the reading volunteer was sitting on the bench. Nora looked at the rest of the playground. The wall near the handball court got too much sun. The grass was wet from last night.

Nora went to the curb along the fence and sat down. The curb was lower than the bench. Her knees came up higher. Her back had nowhere to rest. She put her hands flat on her legs instead. The reading volunteer turned a page on the clipboard. The coffee cup still sat beside her. Across the blacktop, Priya was playing foursquare. Priya always chose the middle square if she could get it.

The wind came through the fence. Nora put her hands in her jacket pockets. Near the equipment shed, the recess monitor began folding the basketball cart. Six minutes left. The reading volunteer stood up. She tucked the clipboard under her arm, picked up the coffee cup, and walked toward the side door. Nora looked at the bench. Six minutes was not enough time. She stayed on the curb.

When the whistle blew, she stood and got in line. Priya got in line behind her. “You were sitting on the curb,” Priya said. “The bench was occupied,” Nora said. Priya nodded once. They went inside.

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