Are You Nuts? (19 page)

“Why is it important?” Beatrix asked.

“I'm not sure.”

“I haven't the faintest notion.”

Meg said, “But you've been making deals left and right during this union election. You were union president back then. You should have known who your friends were. As I recall, you aren't shy about meeting with people. Who did you try to double-cross then?”

Beatrix spoke to Edwina, “Why are you letting her speak to me like this?”

“It kind of amuses me,” Edwina said.

“What happened in that election that you lost?” Meg asked.

When Beatrix spoke, her voice changed to an icy rasp. I hardly recognized it. “You want to know what happened back then? I'll tell you what happened back then. I was the one who fought to get the teachers' representation. I was the one who took a stand. I was the one who stuck her neck out. I was the one who led the fight for teachers' rights in this district. What did I get for all my hard work? I got shit on. Agnes Davis, Jerome Blenkinsop, the whole crowd betrayed me. They went around this district and told every lie they could about me. I didn't mind people running against me as union president. They have that right, but they had no right to lie about me to every teacher in this district. I will never forgive them past the day they die. I will hate them forever.” Her eyes glittered with tears, but she did not shed them.

“Hated them enough to kill?” I asked.

“Don't be stupid. Of course not. I have nothing more to say. I'm leaving.”

And she did.

The three of us looked at each other, then at the door Beatrix had slammed.

“Was she angry enough to kill?” I asked.

“I don't want to be involved,” Edwina said.

“Thought I had something there,” Meg said.

“I'll keep checking it out,” I said.

Meg turned to Edwina. “As my keeper, you may lead me out the door.”

“Uh?” I said.

“I was told I can't be in the building without an escort.”

“Are you okay?”

“I talked to Todd. For a taciturn, distant, formal man, I find him very reassuring.” I watched them walk down the corridor. I returned to my classroom. Everything I'd planned to do today now had to be set up for Monday. I wanted to give out books, syllabi, pretests. I also wanted to go over first-day-of-school writing assignments. I don't use “my summer vacation” as a topic, but I do like to have a sample of their writing so that I am aware of their skill level. For my classes of slower students this is especially important so I can design individual programs. It doesn't hurt for the bright kids either. Their essays aren't up to the level of Montaigne yet, and I can get some idea of what items to cover to make them better writers. Ever since some idiotic bureaucrat in the state of Illinois enshrined the five-paragraph essay as the norm for proving the ability to write, I've had to work twice as hard to teach the bright kids the elements of real writing. To any dopey bureaucrat reading this—I've never written a five-paragraph essay about anything. In the real world neither has anyone else.

I'd long since given up bringing papers home to grade. Which meant spending extra time at school on a Friday going over them. Today, I made sure at least one other faculty member knew where I was, and I notified the custodians of my intention to stay late. The new security officers hadn't been hired yet, but I wanted to make sure my presence was recorded by as many people as possible.

Half an hour into the essays and I was ready to go nuts. Not from their length or general content, which wasn't actually all that bad. It's the little things that teenagers have been doing wrong for years that cause me to see double. I'd just noted the fourteenth use of
alot
as one word. We aren't talking “pet peeve” here, we're talking “driving me bonkers.”

Just after four o'clock my classroom door opened. Lydia Marquez walked in. She was dressed in a conservative business suit. She seemed almost hesitant as she walked about halfway toward the desk.

“May I disturb you?” she asked. Not a hint of demeaning nastiness. I nodded at her. “I heard what happened in here today. I'm terribly sorry. No one should have to be worried about that kind of attack on their job.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“You told Belutha and the police everything I told you. She called me that night and the police talked to me today.”

“Did you expect me to keep silent?”

“No, I guess not.” She sighed deeply. “You know, you and I aren't so different. We both believe very strongly. We both refuse to compromise our essential principles.”

Was she here to make peace? I said, “I wish it wasn't necessary to fight.”

“With me?”

“I wasn't actually thinking of that, but that too. No, I meant, I get tired, as must you, of always having to rush to the barricades to defend against an attack from another direction.”

She leaned against a desk. “You got that part right. Don't get me wrong, I do want to win every battle in the worst way, but there does always seem to be a new one each time you get to the horizon. Just once, I'd like to reach a new dawn and realize there were no more fights to be fought.”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you stay this late all the time?”

“Not usually. Because the day was hectic, I needed to go over a few things to be ready for Monday.”

“You're a dedicated teacher.”

“I'm not unusual. Most of the staff in the district is very hardworking.”

“I guess you're right.”

“I'm curious,” I said. “Why is it so important to you to try and lead the charge to get Meg fired?”

“But I'm not leading that. I've had nothing to do with it. As far as I know, that's coming from Carolyn Blackburn.”

Carolyn must have been more hurt by Meg's words than I thought.

I said, “What do you know about the elections way back, when they were setting up the union?”

“That was before my time. I only heard about them secondhand. I'm not even sure I remember much of that. Our church was a little dinky thing back then. The old pastor used to tell tales from years ago. At the time they only had ten adult members of the congregation. Now we have nearly a thousand.”

“What did the old pastor used to say?”

“Oh, dear, well, I'm not sure. He's been dead for five years. Did you know he was on the school board at the time they voted in the union?”

“Really?”

She nodded. “He was a good and kindly man. He always tried to get people to work together. On the school board he told us he tried to produce a compromise among all the factions. That was before we realized the power of the family and the word of God.”

“Somebody said Carolyn Blackburn was working extremely hard at that time to get the sides to reach a compromise.”

“I believe I heard that she was. She's been helpful so many times. Why in the recent election—” Lydia stopped abruptly.

I stood up. “In the recent election what?”

“Nothing.” She began to fidget.

“Carolyn was on your side?”

“I didn't say that.”

“She was trying to influence the election? Are school superintendents supposed to do that?”

“I can't believe you would be so naive not to think anyone in a district who is going to be affected by an outcome wouldn't be doing all he or she could to affect that outcome. Carolyn was always working to make this a better place.”

“And save her job by making an alliance with your faction?”

“And what would be wrong with that if that's what she was doing?”

“It's an easy way to get herself fired by the faction she didn't support.”

“I think I've said enough.” Lydia began edging toward the door.

I called the elementary school and asked if Seth was still in. If anybody would be around on an opening day, it would be an elementary teacher. High school teachers are mostly likely to be gone the instant the kids leave. Grade school teachers tend to hang around and work. He was in.

I drove to his school. He frowned at me when he saw me.

“I wanted to ask you something,” I said.

“Don't bother, I'm dropping out of the election. They're going to have to get somebody else to run.”

“Why?”

“It's too dirty. I've got people trying to get me to lie or listen to their lies.”

“I heard Beatrix promised you and Jerome her support.”

“That's what finally decided me to quit. It's too much.”

“You weren't above telling a fib or two. Did you talk to Carolyn Blackburn about the election?”

“What's wrong with that?”

“You don't see an ethical dilemma in speaking to the superintendent about a union election in which she is not supposed to play a part?”

“She came to me.”

“She said you came to her and offered to sell out the union.”

“I did not. What was I supposed to do when she came to talk to me, tell her to go away? Besides, she agreed with some of my positions.”

“Speaking of, you really wanted every teacher in the district to rotate assignments? Are you nuts?”

“It would be fair.”

“You are nuts.”

“I don't have to listen to your insults.” He walked out of his classroom and turned left. I turned right and walked to my truck.

I wanted to stop in my classroom. While unlocking the door, I caught a glimpse of something out of place down the hall. I thought we'd put an end to problems in and around my classroom. I hurried forward. In a recess in the wall at the turn to the next hall, I found a male teenager languidly propping up a row of lockers. I'd seen his elbow and foot sticking into the hallway.

“Taking a break?” I asked.

“Nah. Mrs. Jenkins, the principal, told me I had to sit here and watch for people. Nobody told me different, so I've been here since after school. It's boring.”

“Did you see anybody?”

“Not much after all the kids left. A few custodians were around. Some woman went into one of the rooms. I think it might have been yours.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“No.”

“Can you describe her?”

He tossed his hair out of his eyes and rubbed at the acne on his chin. “A big woman. I've seen her around once or twice.”

Lydia?

“Young or old?”

“Older, kind of silvery hair. Maybe she works in the district office. I don't know.”

Carolyn? I thanked him and went to check my room. Everything seemed to be in place.

I walked to the administrative offices. Wisps of humidity crawled over and around me. The school had been bearable today.

Mavis smiled at me and said Carolyn was on the phone. I told her I would wait. Fifteen minutes later I was shown into Carolyn's office.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I'm okay. I'll stop at the hospital on my way home.”

“I heard they're going to keep Jason overnight, but only as a precaution. He should be fine.”

I sat in a leather chair on the opposite side of her desk.

“I just had an odd talk with Lydia Marquez,” I began. “She said you were the one trying to get Meg fired.”

“Not true. Lydia's either making it up or the rumor mill has gone into overdrive.”

I guess I believed her. “I also wanted to ask you about the election when they set up the union. I think what went on then had something to do with the murders.”

“What on earth put that idea into your head?”

“As I've talked to people, they keep mentioning enmities that go back a long time. There seems to be a lot of focus on that. It was ten years before my time, and I've never gotten the whole story.”

“Well, there were actually four rounds of voting.” She explained, “The first was to vote to have a union. The second was on the contract, the third to go on strike, and the fourth to throw Beatrix out and put in Agnes Davis as president.”

“Those must have been bitter times.”

“They were. Nothing anybody could do would lower the rhetoric on either side.”

“Several people have said you tried to work out a compromise.”

She leaned back in her maroon, leather, high-back, swivel chair. “They are very kind to remember. I always try to get people to work together.”

“But you were the head of one faction. The one that wanted to have no union. How did that work? You must have been disappointed.”

“After I lost, I was fed up enough to go into administration. This was not a pleasant place to work at that time. A lot of people quit in the years immediately after the election. Things would be far more bitter here if all those people had stayed on. I figured I could have more real influence on education if I got into the administrative end.”

“Including in the recent school board election?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I understand you were trying to influence the outcome. I think I know how you could be on Lydia's side. The board is so out of control now, you're less than a figurehead. You must be terrifically frustrated. Did you figure if they got in, they'd have to lean on you to learn what to do as a school board? You could get your rightful place back. Of course, if the current school board found out about that now, you could be in some hot water.”

“Everyone has a right to support who they want in an election.”

“And everyone in a public position takes the consequences of their public acts. Or were Belutha and Lydia trying to work that knowledge of your involvement to their own ends? Were they threatening you?”

“Don't be absurd.”

“It's not absurd. Everybody's been running around with secrets. Seth says you came to him. You say he came to you. Were you trying to involve yourself in the union election too?”

“What good would the endorsement of the superintendent do in a union election?”

“I don't know. Maybe you've been harboring resentments ever since your faction lost all those years ago.”

“Why would I care about back then?”

“I know people in their nineties who can recall wrongs they've felt as children as if they had happened yesterday.”

“I've done my best to cooperate with the union.”

“You said Jerome and Seth wanted to wreck the union. Maybe you were willing to help in the tearing down.”

“The union was no friend to the teachers in this district. We'd all have been better off if there had been no union.”

“Who did you tell that to? Who wanted your support that badly? Who would be nuts enough to believe it would make a difference? Who would buy into that madness? Jerome?”

She rose to her feet. She pointed at the door. “Get out.” Her voice was soft but icy cold.

I remained seated.

When she realized I wasn't moving, she said, “I can still get you fired.”

“What were you doing in my room this afternoon?”

She sat down abruptly.

“One of the kids saw you. Edwina must have ordered him to keep watch. After the kids were caught, she never told him not to. What were you doing there?”

“I can go into any room in the school.”

“Let's not be absurd. What purpose would you have to go into my room?”

“Perhaps I was simply looking for you.”

“It's far easier just to call down on the intercom,” I said. “No, I'm not the problem here. It looks more like you've got the problem. Who would have access to all the schools and who was around at all the correct times for the murders? You've been involved with all these people, then and now. You've got secrets you're holding back, but I bet if we got all those people together, we'd get a picture of a superintendent losing her grip.”

Carolyn swiveled her chair so she could look out on her portion of the potholed parking lot. Below the window was a low shelf jammed with papers and a variety of boxes. She spoke without turning around. “Education these days is not worth the effort it takes to make it work right. Something always goes wrong. There's always another parent who isn't connecting with reality, or a lunatic board member, or a pissed-off teacher to contend with. It's as if there is a world full of Beatrix Xurys. There really doesn't seem to be much point in trying to do a good job. Take you for example. You're no prize. There's always something about you. An issue, a problem. I was a better teacher than you ever were.”

Rambling aimlessly wasn't Carolyn's style.

“I've seen more difficulties and dealt with more problems than you can imagine. I've had issues that you could never handle. I've had to be tough and strong. You'd never be able to stick it out long enough. You've got to be able to handle pressure in this job. I was the one who wanted to get Meg fired. I couldn't have her around. That much hassle is too much. I made a mistake.”

“You left traces of blood—”

She interrupted. “No, you silly twit. My mistake was taking all of this seriously. It's the same problem you have. You believe all this stuff makes a difference. It doesn't, you know. No matter how much you fight, make sarcastic comments, try to be kind to people, convince them, force them—everything eventually goes to hell.”

“Is that what happened with Jerome?”

She completely ignored my question. She continued, “The problem is believing so strongly that you have to act before your frustration level hits a point of no return. I was supposed to meet with Jerome that night. I'd found Meg's purse under a coatrack next to the gym. I was planning to return it. When I walked into the library, I heard them arguing and stopped to listen. The things he said were so irrational. My own anger finally got the best of me. When Meg ran out of the room after she hit him, I hurried to Jerome's side. I barely remember what I did. I know I grabbed one of the books, and I know hitting him felt good. I realized I'd used a different book than Meg. I put the other book in your room. I knew I had to do something with it. Behind your books was the first place I thought of. You and Meg are friends. I hoped they'd suspect you both.”

“Why'd you move the body?”

“I was afraid I'd be seen from the hallway. I didn't think Meg would be back. My mind seemed incredibly clear, but I was acting, not thinking. I was there when she came back. I don't know what stopped me from killing her.

“Belutha saw me coming out of the library that night. She bided her time, probably planning the best use she could put the information to. The night she was killed, I was already supposed to meet with her. I was afraid of what she knew. I called her from a pay phone. I didn't want the police to ever be able to trace a call between my home or the school here. Belutha wanted to use her knowledge to get me to bend to her will. That was her leverage. That's why she didn't tell the police about who she saw. She was going to blackmail me and anybody else she could. She believed so strongly and she was going to make her wish come true by making us do as she wanted, just like Jerome. People have an amazing habit of doing what they want, not what you want. You can try a million things, but when they don't work out, the frustration is too much. I don't believe any hassle is worth much anymore.”

She turned around. She held a gun in an unsteady hand.

I jumped to my feet. “Are you nuts? If you kill me, everyone will know it was you. Mavis and the rest of the office staff know I'm in here.”

“That's not my problem.” She raised the gun to her head. “Fairness is for shit.”

The instant it took to realize what she was doing and then to shout and leap across the desk to try to stop her was too long. The gun made a horrific boom.

 

The secretaries, the paramedics, the cops, the detectives, the school board members, the administrators—all flooded into the district office. Early on, I latched onto Frank Murphy and sat with him in the empty school board meeting room. He and Baxter Dickinson and Leonard Rosewald spoke with me for about an hour.

Frank's main comment was, “I don't get this stuff about support in the election. What kind of help is one loon on your side?”

I said, “I'm not sure. I think people believe they are building their coalition one person at a time. It takes a while but it can be very effective. Eventually you can switch from incremental gains to an avalanche. At least that's what they hope.”

Dickinson said, “What use is a frenzied fight over the presidency of this union? Who on earth would care?”

Frank said, “Obviously these people did.”

Until Todd showed up, Frank remained with me and we talked, mostly about kids we'd known in the past, which ones were in jail, who was on probation, who was dealing drugs, who had turned his life around. Based on the information I gave, the cops talked to all the possible people Carolyn might have been involved with. The inferences I'd drawn turned out to be the plausible ones. (Much later a careful inspection of her vehicle would yield traces of Jerome's blood. No gloves were ever found. She must have had the sense to throw them out after handling the encyclopedia. The traces were microscopic, but that DNA stuff is true.) I stayed in the office for around three hours mostly getting depressed. I tried calling home, but Scott wasn't in.

I called Meg and told her the news. She barely seemed relieved. She told me she was just frightened. She wasn't going to fight about her job, she told me, she was just going to resign and take her pension. All the fight seemed to be taken out of her. I said as many encouraging things as I could and promised to stop by tomorrow. I wanted to get home and talk to Scott, but I decided to make a quick trip to the hospital.

I walked into Jason Brewer's hospital room. Scott was standing near his bed. Another teenager was sitting on the bed next to Jason. He quickly withdrew his hand from Jason's as I walked in.

I approached them.

“You okay?” I asked Jason.

“Yeah, they're just keeping me here for observation overnight. Something about my electrolytes aren't in order.” He pointed to the other teenager. A skinny kid with nasty acne. “This is Stanley. He's a junior like me. We're … friends.”

Stanley gave a nervous laugh.

“I heard you solved the murder,” Jason said. “It was on the radio earlier that Ms. Blackburn did it. Did she really?”

I nodded and gave them a brief outline. I wanted to get home.

When I finished, Scott said, “Are you okay?”

“This has been a little busier Friday than I'd thought it would be.”

We got ready to leave.

“Thanks for coming,” Jason said.

Stanley nodded, and his voice gave a teenage squeak as he said, “Thanks for being who you are. You really help.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, sometimes it's hard on kids like us. You make a big difference.”

As we turned to walk out the door, I saw Jason reaching his hand out for Stanley's.

In the hallway Scott said, “I'd go through all this again. That's what makes the difference. That gay kids know they're okay.” I smiled and hugged him. “I would never change anything,” he said. “I love you and having you next to me to go through life with.” Scott whispered in my ear, “Let's get married.”