Throwing my clothes on and without even taking a shower, I hurried over to Zackary’s room. I found him still sound asleep. As gently as I could, I woke him up. He didn’t seem surprised to see me, and actually gave me quite an angelic smile. As I was still practically a stranger to him, I thought he might cry or protest when I started to dress him, but he meekly stood still and allowed me to get on with it.

As a matter of fact, he hardly spoke.

A situation I found unnerving, because most children can’t stop talking. They chatter incessantly, and are intensely curious about everything. On my first day at a job I am usually bombarded with all kinds of personal questions. Are you married? Have you got kids? Why? Don’t you want kids, and on, and on.

Questions from Zackary? Nada.

He also hardly ever made eye contact. After a quick breakfast of toast and eggs, which he ate without any real appetite and almost mechanically, I decided that taking him to the garden would be no good. He needed mental stimulation. Possibly from other kids or a new environment. In my opinion there was nothing a good ride down a slide and a few tumbles in the sand perhaps with some other kids could not cure.

I asked Mrs. Blackmore if there was a playground in the village and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Before she could open her mouth and remind me about the all-pervasive Instruction List, I told her I had spoken to Mr. King who had insisted that I take him out. I didn’t tell her I only had permission to take him to the garden. Despite the look of fear, she arranged for us to be chauffeur-driven in an hour’s time.

We got into a baby blue Rolls Royce. Some animation came into Zackary’s face, not much, but I still considered it progress.

“Where are we going?”

“To the park,” I said with a smile.

He turned his head and stared out of the car. As we passed an old-fashioned sweet shop I told the driver to stop. According to my list of do and don’ts all colored sweets were strictly off limits.

“Come on,” I said, and despite the quiet look from the chauffeur, I took the child into the shop.

There was a bell on the door which tinkled as we walked into the shop. Even before the door had shut behind us our nostrils were filled with the sweet smell of sugar in all its forms. Zackary’s eyes became as big as saucers. “I’m not allowed to eat sweets,” he informed me gravely, “they’re bad for me.” His eyes begged me to say it was all right just this one time.

“You’re not allowed to eat anything with preservatives, additives, and artificial colors,” I said, “but we’re going to have something.” I winked. “Almost healthy.”

For the first time since we met, his lips pulled upwards in a real, child’s grin.

We left with a large lollipop made from organic juices and a bag of marshmallows that the lady assured me had no artificial colors or preservatives.

It was a small park and there were two mothers there with their children. They looked a bit younger than Zackary. To my surprise he refused to look at them. I took him down to the slides which were not being used. I was hoping the children would come and join us, but they didn’t so I caught the eyes of the mothers and smiled at them. They smiled back. Zackary went down the slide three times then, he stopped and looked at me.

“I’m finished.”

“Shall we go say hello to the other kids?”

“No.”

I pushed the swing for him and he seemed to enjoy it a lot. When he had enough he simply said, “Thank you. I’m finished now.”

I led him to the sand box, he seemed to be fascinated by the blue and red plastic molds. He began to build his own castle. When other kids came over to join him though, Zackary immediately rose up, and came to me.

“What is it? Don’t you want to make friends?” I asked, but he wouldn't say a word. He just remained by my side and refused to join the others. He was way too timid for a five-year old boy. I knew he had a class with his reading tutor in an hour so we left.

I knew disobeying his mother would be trouble but I hoped that once she saw how her son had come out of his shell she would be happy or at least she won’t be mad. Already I could see a slight improvement in his usually somber mood. The exercise in the fresh air had put color in his cheeks and given him an appetite. He gobbled up his lunch, amidst smiles from Mrs. Blackmore. Hopefully, his mother would notice his improvement and be more open to allowing him to socialize even more.

That was not the case however when a few hours later, she barged into his room. I was sorting out his laundry on the floor but quickly jumped to my feet at the dark fury in her face.

“You took Zackary to the park today,” she barked, and at the annoyance on her face, my lips parted but no words would come out.

“Are you out of your tiny, uneducated mind?” she screamed. “Did you not read the instructions I gave to you?”

I felt anger flash through my veins, but I controlled myself. “I apologize, but you were not around this morning for me to check with you, but his father insisted that I allow him some play time outside today, especially since the weather was beautiful. I told him about your rule but he said that he would speak directly to you about it.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Was it fear or something else? Whatever it was it was primal and basic. “What did you say?” she asked, almost as if she was unwilling to believe me.

“Your husband insisted last night that I take Zackary … out.”

Her eyes burned with dislike. She took a few steps closer, her gaze boring into mine. “Listen very carefully to me because I am not going to say this again. Obviously, you are still unclear about your position in this household. I am your employer, not my husband. I hired you. The contract is between me and your employment agency. Therefore, not only are the instructions I give you not to be so stupidly shared with him, but any instructions he insists on contrary to what I have laid out are to be reported first to me. I am in charge of Zackary, not his father. Have I made myself clear?”

For a second I wanted to argue back, but something made me hold my tongue. Something told me to step back. There was more at play here than her empty threats and fake anger. She was not livid because I had done something that could have endangered her child. She knew very well her list was bullshit. She was angry because I had spoken to her husband and communicated what any sane person knew. A child should be allowed to run free outside. She blinked and I realized that maybe, she was a little afraid of me too. Of what changes I could bring to the tightly controlled world of her child. Why she wanted it that way I didn’t know yet. But I intended to find out.

“Yes,” I said slowly. “You have made yourself very clear.”

“The next time you do cross the line your bags will be out on the street,” she said to me, before turning on her heels and stalking away.

I turned around and Zackary was standing behind me. His eyes were wide and he was shaking with fear. Walking over to him, I got on my knees, and gathered him close to my chest.

“Oh, darling. Don’t be afraid. Everything is going to be fine,” I whispered. I could feel his heart thudding fast and loud.

No matter what happened I wasn’t going to abandon this child until I had made it clear to his father that he had to involve himself in his son’s life, or the boy’s life was going to be ruined.