at her. “You can leave the door open,”
I said to the janitor. “Where would you like to sit?” I asked Georgie. Before
she could answer, I said, “In the back would be best.”
She started to take
a seat in the row behind the students.
“ No , the
very back,” I said. “That’s it. Keep going. All the way.”
She arranged
herself at a desk against the wall. A few of the students turned around to look
at her.
“There’s a
better view from back there,” I said in a loud voice. “Like a wide angle lens.
So you can watch every move I make.”
An awkward
silence fell.
“Class,” I said.
“I’d like you to meet Miss Hartly. She’s going to take over after today.”
“What?”
“Why?”
“Evidently there
was a Board approved curriculum I was supposed to use and someone reported me for not using it.”
“You were fired?”
“Something like
that.”
“No!”
Georgie shifted
in the cramped desk. I went around the room and had each student take turns
reading from their books.
For some reason,
Georgie took a bunch of notes, scribbling furiously. I never took notes. Not
only did I find it distracting, I didn’t have to take notes. I was probably
smarter than Georgie.
Guilt burrowed
in the back of my mind.
Outside the sky
had gone black. I thought I could fall into it and disappear. I had to sit down
to feel the hard chair. I counted. Eleven unoccupied desks. Three pairs of
glasses. One pen. Twenty human eyeballs.
When the class
was over, each student came up to me and shook my hand. They brought me back to
earth.
Georgie tried to
ignore me, pretending to be busy with her folder as she made her way to the
door.
“Well, did you
get what you came for?” I said.
She stopped and
turned around. We locked eyes.
“Henry told me
you were wondering,” I said, in such a way that implied Henry and I spoke
intimately all the time.
Her pupils
narrowed into hard pinpoints.
“You were
curious how old I was. You don’t have to gossip behind my back. I’ll just tell
you,” I gripped the edge of my desk, losing momentum.
Georgie’s angry
face appeared to hover in the air, severed from her body.
“I did skip
grades,” my voice went on, as if coming from someone else. “High I.Q. runs in
my family. Also, I’m especially gifted in the areas of language and philosophy,”
I refused to acknowledge the tremor behind my eyelids. “According to my letters
of recommendation, those areas of expertise make me particularly adept at
teaching. Go figure.”
When she walked
away, I sat under the hum of fluorescent lights. I couldn’t move.
I was thinking of
my mother and how she used to scream at her lover, Javier. “I’m so much
prettier,” she would cry. “How can you look at that dumb cow when you
have me ? Don’t you see me?” And she would sink to her knees, crying.
I felt as
humiliated as if I’d thrown myself at Georgie’s feet and wept.
9. Devon
ON THE outskirts
of town where the streetlights flickered and the desert stretched as far as the
mortal eye could see, something white flitted across my path. The creature
stopped to peer at me. Ruby’s cat, Alceste. His mangy tail twitched before he
darted back into the sagebrush.
I followed his
scent to a cluster of trailer houses at the end of a gravel road. Five trailers
sat on the scabby ground at odd angles to each other. A clothes line had been
strung between them and a pair of faded jeans dangled. Beer cans lay scattered
around a couple of choppers. The last trailer had a stoop.
The cat sat on
the stoop, viewing me with disdain. My hand shot out and I had him by the
scruff, holding him up so we could look eye to disparate eye. He growled. The
door of the trailer banged open.
A girl gaped at
me.
Alceste kicked
the air with his hind legs. Damn, caught in the act. “Hi,” I said, without
loosening my grip.
“That's my cat.”
“Are you sure?”
Alceste struggled in vain.
“Let him go! ”
she cried.
Thinking of the
choppers, I
I said to the janitor. “Where would you like to sit?” I asked Georgie. Before
she could answer, I said, “In the back would be best.”
She started to take
a seat in the row behind the students.
“ No , the
very back,” I said. “That’s it. Keep going. All the way.”
She arranged
herself at a desk against the wall. A few of the students turned around to look
at her.
“There’s a
better view from back there,” I said in a loud voice. “Like a wide angle lens.
So you can watch every move I make.”
An awkward
silence fell.
“Class,” I said.
“I’d like you to meet Miss Hartly. She’s going to take over after today.”
“What?”
“Why?”
“Evidently there
was a Board approved curriculum I was supposed to use and someone reported me for not using it.”
“You were fired?”
“Something like
that.”
“No!”
Georgie shifted
in the cramped desk. I went around the room and had each student take turns
reading from their books.
For some reason,
Georgie took a bunch of notes, scribbling furiously. I never took notes. Not
only did I find it distracting, I didn’t have to take notes. I was probably
smarter than Georgie.
Guilt burrowed
in the back of my mind.
Outside the sky
had gone black. I thought I could fall into it and disappear. I had to sit down
to feel the hard chair. I counted. Eleven unoccupied desks. Three pairs of
glasses. One pen. Twenty human eyeballs.
When the class
was over, each student came up to me and shook my hand. They brought me back to
earth.
Georgie tried to
ignore me, pretending to be busy with her folder as she made her way to the
door.
“Well, did you
get what you came for?” I said.
She stopped and
turned around. We locked eyes.
“Henry told me
you were wondering,” I said, in such a way that implied Henry and I spoke
intimately all the time.
Her pupils
narrowed into hard pinpoints.
“You were
curious how old I was. You don’t have to gossip behind my back. I’ll just tell
you,” I gripped the edge of my desk, losing momentum.
Georgie’s angry
face appeared to hover in the air, severed from her body.
“I did skip
grades,” my voice went on, as if coming from someone else. “High I.Q. runs in
my family. Also, I’m especially gifted in the areas of language and philosophy,”
I refused to acknowledge the tremor behind my eyelids. “According to my letters
of recommendation, those areas of expertise make me particularly adept at
teaching. Go figure.”
When she walked
away, I sat under the hum of fluorescent lights. I couldn’t move.
I was thinking of
my mother and how she used to scream at her lover, Javier. “I’m so much
prettier,” she would cry. “How can you look at that dumb cow when you
have me ? Don’t you see me?” And she would sink to her knees, crying.
I felt as
humiliated as if I’d thrown myself at Georgie’s feet and wept.
9. Devon
ON THE outskirts
of town where the streetlights flickered and the desert stretched as far as the
mortal eye could see, something white flitted across my path. The creature
stopped to peer at me. Ruby’s cat, Alceste. His mangy tail twitched before he
darted back into the sagebrush.
I followed his
scent to a cluster of trailer houses at the end of a gravel road. Five trailers
sat on the scabby ground at odd angles to each other. A clothes line had been
strung between them and a pair of faded jeans dangled. Beer cans lay scattered
around a couple of choppers. The last trailer had a stoop.
The cat sat on
the stoop, viewing me with disdain. My hand shot out and I had him by the
scruff, holding him up so we could look eye to disparate eye. He growled. The
door of the trailer banged open.
A girl gaped at
me.
Alceste kicked
the air with his hind legs. Damn, caught in the act. “Hi,” I said, without
loosening my grip.
“That's my cat.”
“Are you sure?”
Alceste struggled in vain.
“Let him go! ”
she cried.
Thinking of the
choppers, I
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