over your class?” He slapped the stick so sharply against Penelope’s desktop, the tip broke off, shot across the room like a bullet, and imbedded itself into the wall. The girl ran out the door.
“You,” he said, pointing at Norman with the broken stick, “mop up this mess immediately and don’t ever laugh at me again or you will face expulsion!”
Beth wanted to take that damnable stick and crack it over the man’s head. Who did he think he was? This was her classroom and within five minutes, he had terrified her students. None dared to scratch their heads, but sat on their hands in fear the stick might be used on their knuckles next. She wanted to demand that the inspector leave, but such insubordination would mean her immediate dismissal, so instead she said nothing and allowed the intolerable man to bully his way around her classroom.
“You, how do you spell chrysanthemum?” he demanded. “ … Wrong. You, how do you find the area of a cone? Wrong.”
Beth went to her desk and began flipping through her manual. Why, that old cur was asking questions that weren’t even in the curriculum! Enough was enough!
“Mr. Glower!” she started in, but a knock interrupted her rebuttal.
“Who is it?” she yelled, not bothering to even to open the door, which would have been the proper thing to do. But at that moment, she didn’t care.
And she quite honestly didn’t know what to feel when Tom poked his head into the classroom.
Before she had a chance to utter one word, Tom said, “Sorry to interrupt, Miss Patterson, but I told Mr. Glower when his buggy was fixed, I’d come and let him know.”
“It’s repaired already?” Glower asked in amazement.
“I put a rush on it, seeing you said you were in a hurry.”
Glower nodded. “Yes. And there’s certainly no reason for me to remain here. I’ve seen more than enough to make my report.”
Beth’s shoulders slumped.
Tom led the inspector outside, explaining all he had done to make the buggy serviceable.
Beth followed them, but on her way through the cloakroom, she saw the inspector’s derby hat. She grabbed it, wishing she could stomp it flat as a cow pie. Then she thought of something even better. She took perverse pleasure in swiping the hat’s inside rim with the collar of every lice-infested coat.
When she handed it to him, Mr. Glower placed the hat securely on his head and straightened it precisely. As he climbed into his buggy, he said, “I’m afraid, Miss Patterson, I’m leaving with a rather poor impression of you and your students.”
That’s not all you’re leaving with, she thought with satisfaction as Glower snapped the reins and drove away.
“How did it go?” Tom asked, watching the buggy diminish in the distance.
“Miserably.”
“Figures. When he told me he was the school inspector, I knew he’d be a son of a bi — I mean — he’d be difficult to deal with. Don’t worry. He may act like he’s important, but the school trustees have the final say in what happens in our school.”
It surprised her to realize he was trying to make her feel better about the fiasco. And it finally dawned on her why the blacksmith had barged into her classroom just before lunch. If she hadn’t been so set on putting him in his place, she would have had prior warning and time to prepare the students.
Beth turned to him, humbled in the face of his kindness. “Mr. Carver, I owe you an apology.”
Tom folded and stuffed the inspector’s payment into his shirt pocket. “What for?” He crossed his arms and waited.
She could see he wasn’t going to make this easy. “For coming to warn me earlier.”
“Warn you?”
“You know, about the inspector.”
Tom chuckled. “Do you really think I would come all the way over here just to warn you about him? Miss Patterson, you’d best get back to teaching. Like you said, you don’t get paid to visit.” He walked away, leaving Beth standing by herself.
Deny it all he wanted. She knew
“You,” he said, pointing at Norman with the broken stick, “mop up this mess immediately and don’t ever laugh at me again or you will face expulsion!”
Beth wanted to take that damnable stick and crack it over the man’s head. Who did he think he was? This was her classroom and within five minutes, he had terrified her students. None dared to scratch their heads, but sat on their hands in fear the stick might be used on their knuckles next. She wanted to demand that the inspector leave, but such insubordination would mean her immediate dismissal, so instead she said nothing and allowed the intolerable man to bully his way around her classroom.
“You, how do you spell chrysanthemum?” he demanded. “ … Wrong. You, how do you find the area of a cone? Wrong.”
Beth went to her desk and began flipping through her manual. Why, that old cur was asking questions that weren’t even in the curriculum! Enough was enough!
“Mr. Glower!” she started in, but a knock interrupted her rebuttal.
“Who is it?” she yelled, not bothering to even to open the door, which would have been the proper thing to do. But at that moment, she didn’t care.
And she quite honestly didn’t know what to feel when Tom poked his head into the classroom.
Before she had a chance to utter one word, Tom said, “Sorry to interrupt, Miss Patterson, but I told Mr. Glower when his buggy was fixed, I’d come and let him know.”
“It’s repaired already?” Glower asked in amazement.
“I put a rush on it, seeing you said you were in a hurry.”
Glower nodded. “Yes. And there’s certainly no reason for me to remain here. I’ve seen more than enough to make my report.”
Beth’s shoulders slumped.
Tom led the inspector outside, explaining all he had done to make the buggy serviceable.
Beth followed them, but on her way through the cloakroom, she saw the inspector’s derby hat. She grabbed it, wishing she could stomp it flat as a cow pie. Then she thought of something even better. She took perverse pleasure in swiping the hat’s inside rim with the collar of every lice-infested coat.
When she handed it to him, Mr. Glower placed the hat securely on his head and straightened it precisely. As he climbed into his buggy, he said, “I’m afraid, Miss Patterson, I’m leaving with a rather poor impression of you and your students.”
That’s not all you’re leaving with, she thought with satisfaction as Glower snapped the reins and drove away.
“How did it go?” Tom asked, watching the buggy diminish in the distance.
“Miserably.”
“Figures. When he told me he was the school inspector, I knew he’d be a son of a bi — I mean — he’d be difficult to deal with. Don’t worry. He may act like he’s important, but the school trustees have the final say in what happens in our school.”
It surprised her to realize he was trying to make her feel better about the fiasco. And it finally dawned on her why the blacksmith had barged into her classroom just before lunch. If she hadn’t been so set on putting him in his place, she would have had prior warning and time to prepare the students.
Beth turned to him, humbled in the face of his kindness. “Mr. Carver, I owe you an apology.”
Tom folded and stuffed the inspector’s payment into his shirt pocket. “What for?” He crossed his arms and waited.
She could see he wasn’t going to make this easy. “For coming to warn me earlier.”
“Warn you?”
“You know, about the inspector.”
Tom chuckled. “Do you really think I would come all the way over here just to warn you about him? Miss Patterson, you’d best get back to teaching. Like you said, you don’t get paid to visit.” He walked away, leaving Beth standing by herself.
Deny it all he wanted. She knew
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