An Old-Fashioned Education (8 page)

“How can you say that?” she asked. “Your wife left. She left you and she left your children and she left a life that you both obviously believed in.”

“She never believed in it,” he said.

“How can you say that?” Polly asked. “I saw the picture of the two of you standing in front of the cabin. She looked as happy as you.”

Her voice trailed off as she realized with horror that she’d given away Kerry’s secret.

“What picture?” his voice was dangerously low.

“You thought you burned everything,” Polly said. “But some things can’t be rendered to ash, nor should they, especially not a little girl’s love for her mother. Kerry has the book her mother used to read to her, the one about the rabbit that seeks out its lost baby. And she has what pictures she dared to salvage from the burn barrel.”

He turned away and ran his hand through his hair. Polly walked around to face him.

“Mr. Springer,” she said. “Walt, what happened? You don’t have to tell me, but maybe it will help. I know you always feel like you have to be the strong one, but sometimes it helps to have someone to talk to.”

“I can’t talk about it,” he said. “I can’t think about it, Polly. If I do I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Break down? Show emotion? And you think what? That will make you less of a man in the same way it’ll make Aidan or any other here less of a man if he does the dishes, or any woman here less of a woman if she changes a belt on the snowmobile or chops wood?”

“You don’t know anything about us.”

“Don’t I?” she asked. “Then why don’t you look at me and tell me that I’m not saying what you already suspect? That this community could do with a little evolution, that everything is not black and white?”

Polly sighed, and gentled her tone. “It can be hard, sometimes, to see things clearly when you’re too close to them. I came here as an outsider and maybe I have a better perspective because of it. I’m not asking you to agree with my assessment, but I am asking that you consider it.”

Walt Springer walked across the room and opened the top drawer of his bureau. He pulled out a picture and walked back to Polly. It was a wedding photo.

“I wasn’t able to burn everything either. I pulled this one out just as the flames were consuming everything else.”

He handed it to Polly. The picture showed Walt and his wife on their wedding day. She was in a simple dress, her blonde hair piled high on her head. He was in a dark suit. He had a moustache. Polly smiled. The photo was burned on one edge.

“It’s lovely,” she said.

“We were so happy,” he said. “I met her at The Farm. It’s an intentional community in Tennessee. It used to be a big commune, but now it’s just a place for education. We struck up a conversation; both of us were fascinated with the concept of The Farm and intentional communities in general. We had so much in common, so much. I mean, it was like we were two halves of the same whole. The life I’d envisioned for myself was the life she’d envisioned for herself—raising kids in a wholesome environment, homesteading, living off the land and away from the influences of society.”

“We decided that in a world where people spend years planning to live their dreams one day, we were going to live ours now. We knew that we were going to have to be selective in who we brought along, because our very simple model of society included some very hard stereotypes. Men were to be the leaders, women the protected helpmates. The men were to make the decisions, and each man would be personally responsible for his wife and children. We decided early on to sanction reasonable corporal punishment as a consequence within households. We’d researched it and it had worked in the past. We felt that the only reason it didn’t work in today’s society was because women were taught that it was somehow wrong.”

“We got married out there, right in front of the cabin. That was the happiest day of my life, let me tell you. I was determined to be the best husband in the world. But I let her down. I never realized how much everyone here would look to me for answers on things, or how big we would get or how many decisions I’d have to make. I was out of the house more and more, overseeing building projects. Melissa was teaching all day and by the time we got home she was as dog tired as I was. Then the babies started coming and that made things better. She was a good momma. A very good momma. But between the kids and my running the community I stopped guiding her. She was depressed and I didn’t put the two together until right before she left. She asked me one day if I still loved her.

“What did you say?” Polly asked.

“What do you think I said? I said of course. And she said, then why have you forgotten about me?”

“I told her she was silly, that I’d not forgotten about her. But I guess she thought I had because the next day she left. She hiked to the road before dawn and flew out before I even knew she was gone. She left a letter, though.”

He went back to the drawer and took it out and walked back, handing it to Polly. “You can read it if you want. If you do, it’ll make only three people in this world who know how she really felt. I know you think that my wife left because I spanked her. But in truth, she left because I stopped.”

Polly looked up at him. It was none of her business, she knew. But curiosity got the best of her. Reaching out, she took the letter from Walt Springer’s hand and began to read.

Polly’s conversation with Noni had served two purposes. One, it had given her some leverage with Walt Springer. No longer could he assert himself as the moral authority in her life when she’d caught him in a lie. She still could not believe that he had made her think that it was the community’s idea for her to stay with him, when he was the one who had gone against the grain of the community to bring her into his home. Walt had at least had the good grace to act sheepish when she she’d confronted him about what Noni had told her. But the fact that he’d been more concerned with his own image than with hers was a fact she was able to parlay into a promise from him that as soon as the weather broke she could leave. The unspoken promise—and another she was equally banking on—was an end to the spankings. Now that he’d been revealed to be as flawed as anyone else in the community, she wasn’t about to submit to him again without a fight.

“Hi!” Kerry Springer crawled up into the chair beside her. It was a Saturday morning, early in the house and the first time since Polly arrived that she’d actually gotten up before everyone else. She’d made some coffee and was sitting at the table watching the light slowly dawn through the lace curtains when the little girl had come in. Kerry was clutching Polly’s little dog and while Polly hadn’t officially given it to her, she knew the day was coming. She would have to leave Kerry with something when she was gone. It made her heart ache a bit, to think of leaving a child who had become so attached to her. Walt had said he wasn’t trying to replace his wife, but what did he expect to happen when he brought another woman into his house? It frustrated her that he did not seem to really understand his own children, and she wondered if he realized what all his shepherding of the Pepper’s Hollow flock was costing him.

“Hey, Sleepyhead,” she said, giving the little girl’s blonde curls a playful rub. “It’s a little early for you to be up.”

“I saw a light,” Kerry said. “I was afraid you were leaving.”

“I’m not leaving,” Polly said gently.

“Not ever?” The little girl’s eyes were full of hopeful expectation.

“Not now,” Polly said. “Not while there’s snow on the ground.”

“I’m going to pray for snow,” Kerry said earnestly. “I’m going to pray it covers Pepper’s Hollow for five hundred days a year.”

“That would be quite a feat considering that there are only 365 days in a year,” Polly said with a smile.

“Good, then that would be extra snow,” Kerry said, and Polly noticed that the stubborn set of her jaw was reminiscent of the child’s father. But what about the mother? Polly studied the cherubic face, the pale skin, the large light blue eyes. Kerry was the spitting image of her mother. Polly tried not to let her mind wander to Walt’s relationship with his AWOL wife. Pepper’s Hollow families seemed so close; the couples seem so committed to the same ideas and values. What had happened to drive Melissa Springer away? It must have been horrible for the children, and for Walt who obviously was obviously the disciplinarian in the family and not the nurturer. From what she’d seen he just expected his children to pick themselves up and carry onto accept their mother’s departure as just one of the hard knocks life could deliver. But she knew the children did not work like that. Without someone to help them work through their loss, they’d remain emotionally damaged by their mother’s leaving for the rest of their life.

She fixed Kerry some oatmeal, changing the subject as she cooked to talk about the snowflake patterns they would make that day from tissue paper and scissors. They had worked on the project in school, and Kerry had been a bit forlorn that her snowflakes were not as elaborate as some fashioned by the older kids. Polly had promised that they would work on it together. Aidan, listening to the conversation, had called his sister a whiny baby.

Polly wanted to find a way to help Aidan, too. She worried that he was taking his father’s lead—forming a tough shell and stuffing down his feelings. But she worried even more that he was subconsciously taking out his hostility on Kerry, who being a female was now a person that Aidan decided could not be trusted. He would get openly angry when the little girl mentioned that she missed their mother.

“I don’t know why,” he said. “She doesn’t miss us.” But Polly noticed that Aidan never said these things within earshot of his father for fear of getting in trouble over upsetting Kerry. Polly had taken it upon herself to shoot Aidan such withering glances that he backed off of his sister to a large degree, but she wondered what would happen when she was no longer there. She could only see Aidan getting worse, and with Walt too preoccupied with the commune’s business to notice, Kerry would quickly grow to feel alone in her own house.

That was no childhood for a little girl, and Polly was determined that by the time she left she would make sure that if she could not convince Walt to step up and admit that both he and his kids were hurting, then she’d have to go to someone else in the community. Perhaps the next teacher to take her chance with the community could help. She would have to be sure. She could not walk away from the kids as long as their lives were so full of uncertainty.

Walt seemed almost embarrassed to find her already awake and having breakfast with his daughter.

“I must have overslept,” he said awkwardly.

“No, I just got up early,” Polly replied. “And Kerry here was kind enough to join me for breakfast.”

He nodded and went to the window. As he looked out, Walt Springer sighed. “Looks like more snow,” he said.

“Goody!” Kerry was giggling and clapping her hands.

Her father turned to her.  “You told me when it started getting cold that you hated snow,” he said.

“Yeah, but Polly, I mean Ms. Perkins, said she can’t leave if there’s snow on the ground.”

“Yeah, she could.” Aidan had walked in and walked over to stand beside his father. “It just has to melt down enough to get the snowcat out. Once it does she can go back. She doesn’t like it here, do you Ms. Perkins?

“You just hate her because she likes me better!” Kerry screamed the words and fled to her room. Polly was left momentarily speechless and she was surprised to see that even Walt was taken aback. Only Aidan showed no emotion.

“She’s a baby,” Aidan said.

“And you’re being a bully,” Polly said quietly. “Has it ever occurred to you, Aidan, that your sister is hurting just as much as you are but isn’t tough enough to hide it?”

“My kids aren’t hurting,” Walt said.

“That’s the second lie you’ve told me this week.” Polly crossed her arms stubbornly as she fixed Walt with a steady gaze.

“Go cut some firewood, Aidan.” Walt nudged his son with his elbow.

“I haven’t had breakfast!” The antagonistic image of Walt in miniature melted way, leaving a pouting little boy in its wake. “And it’s cold!”

“Do as your told. Maybe it’ll make you think about making your sister cry.”

“But she was...”

“Go!” Walt barked the command so loudly that both his son and Polly jumped. Aidan’s face flamed beet red as he pulled on his outerwear and hat. Only Polly noticed the hurt and resentment in his eyes—emotions that seemed aimed at her, at Walt, at the whole world.

Once the child was outside, his father walked over to her.

“Why did you make that comment?” he asked.

“Which comment?”

“About how I was lying. Didn’t I tell you not to undermine me to my children? Didn’t I?”

Her heart was racing but she held her ground.   “Yes,” she said. “But you also told me you were raising them with values. Or is that just something for other people?”

“Look,” he said. “I was wrong to lie, but I’m going to come clean before you leave. But first the community–”

“The community.” Polly threw up her hands. “Don’t you see that that’s the problem, Walt? The community comes first. It comes before your principles and even, I’m afraid, before your children.”

“You don’t know–”

“I do know!” she said hotly. “I can see it with my own eyes! Your kids are hurting.”

“My kids are tough!”

“Your kids are no tougher than any other kids!” she said. “Kerry is quiet. She doesn’t talk to you because she’s afraid to. And Aidan is angry and is taking it out on Kerry and me because he’s afraid, too! Walt, there are other men in this community that could take the helm, but you have responsibilities here, with your family! Why not just back off from your leadership duties and take care of matters under your own roof? Didn’t you tell me in the interview that strong families were what Pepper’s Hollow was all about? How can you lead a community when your own family is crumbling?”

“You’re overstepping!” Walt said

“You’re in denial!” she retorted.

“I don’t need this,” he countered. “I don’t need you to come in here sounding like her!”

“Sounding like who? Melissa?”

Walt took a step back. Kerry had entered the room and Polly’s heart fell at the sight of the little girl clutching her old stuffed dog under her arm as her eyes moved worriedly from Walt to her teacher and back again.

“I’m going to go help Aidan bring in the wood.” Walt turned, snatched his jacket off the nearby coatrack and stalked out of the house. His little girl began to cry.

“Hey, hey, hey...” Polly rushed over and knelt down to hold her.

“You’re going to run away now, just like Mommy!”

“Kerry...” Polly wanted to reassure her that she would never leave, that she would always be there. But she could not. It would be a lie; even if she wanted to stay, Walt would not want her to after she’d challenged him. She was detecting a pattern here—Walt Springer had obviously gotten the same message from his wife, but had chosen to ignore her. She’d left, although how she could walk away from her children Polly did not understand. But she vowed not to judge her predecessor. Teaching at Pepper’s Hollow was not a lucrative job, and if she did not have means then she may have felt the kids would be more secure with their father.

“Hey, honey,” she said. “I don’t want you to worry. I know it’s hard to believe but everything will be all right. You and your papa and your brother have had a very big adjustment with your mommy leaving and all, but I’m sure that things will get better.”

“They only will if you stay!” Kerry said, and her eyes were desperate. “You can’t leave. You just can’t!” She burst into tears.

Damn it. Kerry had never felt more helpless in her life. And she’d never been as angry as she was at Walt Springer.

“Kerry,” she said, standing. “I’m going to make things better. But you have to stay here, okay? I mean it!”

Kerry nodded emphatically. Polly leaned down and kissed the little girl on the top of her head. “I’ll be back soon.”

She pulled on her jacket, gloves and boots and walked outside. The air was so cold it stung. Polly felt like she was breathing in little shards of glass. The sky was gray again, too. She wasn’t sure she could handle more snow but pushed all thoughts of weather from her mind.

She walked around back, to where Aidan and his father were stacking wood.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“Not now, Polly,” Walt said. “I’m stacking wood.”

“No. We need to talk now. Let Aidan go in and have some cocoa. There’s enough wood to make it through the day already.”

Walt’s response was to split another log. “No,” he said. “We’ll talk later. When I say so.”

“Fine,” she said. “If you won’t talk to me I’ll start talking to the residents of Pepper’s Hollow.”

That got his attention. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only that I’m about to go from door to door telling them all that you lied to them, and telling them how offended I am that you would sacrifice my reputation in a cowardly bid to salvage your own.”

Walt raised the ax and sunk it into the chopping block. “Go inside,” he said to his son without looking. Aidan hesitated for a moment but then did as his father said. Walt and Polly were alone.

“There’s going to be some changes around here,” she said. “If there aren’t, I’m going to make good on my threat, and what’s more you’ll be without a teacher and I’ll tell everyone here it’s because you won’t listen to me any more than you listened to the last teacher you drove away.”

He closed the distance between them in a flash, grabbing her arm. His gaze was angry, his blue eyes hard in his handsome face. But Polly did not flinch.

“Don’t even try to tell me I’m wrong,” she said. “And I know you think I’m judging you, but I’m not. I’m not judging Melissa, either. Sometimes we take people for granted, but sometimes when we do it too much they snap. I think Melissa snapped, Walt. It’s cold up here, and lonely–”

“She had the community!”

“Yes, a community made up mostly of couples,” she said. “Couples in love building a life. That’s what she wanted, but it seems that you pushed that priority aside. You took a mistress.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped back, livid.

“I’m not talking about a literal one. I’m talking about the community itself. It got the love and the attention and the support that Melissa needed. You made her feel like the outsider, and she left.” She paused. “Am I right?”

Walt turned away. His hands were on his hips and he was looking up at the graying sky. She wasn’t sure he was going to speak, and when he did his voice was shaky.