Arts & Entertainments: A Novel (11 page)

Someone had added opening credits, subtitles, and a soundtrack of bad electronic music, edited so that it seemed that they’d been listening to it at the time. Otherwise it was exactly as he’d cut it. He tried to imagine Martha watching the video. Would she feel any emotions besides anger or embarrassment? He watched only a few minutes before closing the computer and calling Susan back into the room.

“It’s me,” he told her, nearly in tears from embarrassment. His shame was real, which at least made it convincing. “You can’t see me in the video, though. I don’t think anyone could trace it to me.”

“We’ve got to do something. People can’t just steal things and put them on the Internet, can they?”

“Probably not. But I don’t think it was stolen from me. I mean, who hacks into a high school teacher’s computer, looking for something like that?”

“I thought they weren’t on your computer.”

“Exactly,” Eddie said quickly. “So they couldn’t have taken them from me.”

“It doesn’t matter whether they took it from you. If it’s you in the video you have some right to stop it. Don’t you? Call Alex and tell him to do something about it.”

Alex was Eddie’s agent at Talent Management. They hadn’t spoken in years. Eddie almost told Susan this, but he remembered that he was supposed to have received a royalty check from the agency only a few weeks before.

“I don’t know how much he can do about it,” he told her instead. “Once something is out, you can’t really make it go away.”

“So we’re completely helpless?”

“We’ll wait for it to blow over. Something more interesting will come along, and everyone will forget about it. In the meantime, we’ll just hope that no one connects it to me.”

This seemed like a real possibility to Eddie. There was no mention of his name in the papers, and no one online seemed all that interested in knowing the identity of the other figure in the tape.

“She probably leaked it herself,” he said. “These things are actually good for people’s careers.”

“Do you really think she would do that?”

“Who can say? I don’t think she’s the same person she was when I knew her.”

WHEN THE WEEKLIES HIT
the newsstand on Tuesday morning, Martha was on the cover of every one. Eddie wasn’t mentioned anywhere. In his first class of the day, the boys didn’t seem any more distracted or disrespectful than usual. Near the beginning of his second class one of them raised his hand. This in itself was a bad sign, since the boys just spoke out when they had something to say.

“What is it?” Eddie asked.

“Do you have any advice about acting in sex scenes?”

The entire class burst into laughter before he’d even finished the question.

“That’s not appropriate,” Eddie said. He could have sent him to the headmaster’s office, the last resort for dealing with bad behavior, but he wanted the matter dropped. He didn’t need to bring it to Luce’s attention. He took out a few copies of
Twelfth Night
and set them to reading aloud for the rest of the hour, which was what he did when he wasn’t interested in teaching.

“If there are no more questions,” he said at the end of the second act, “I can let you go now.”

He watched the boys deciding between getting out of class early and staying to provoke him. They opted to file out of the theater.

“I hope I’ll see some of you at auditions after school,” Eddie called out as he watched them leave.

But there were no auditions that day. Luce was waiting when Eddie returned to the theater that afternoon.

“Mr. Hartley,” he said. “I wondered whether you might come to my office for a talk.”

“The boys will be arriving any minute,” Eddie said.

“I instructed the other teachers to let their students know during last period that auditions for the fall play have been postponed.”

They walked to the headmaster’s office, where Luce closed the door behind them.

“Have you seen this week’s St. Albert’s
Canticle
?” he asked as he positioned himself behind his desk. He didn’t invite Eddie to sit.

“I haven’t,” Eddie said.

Luce passed a copy of the student magazine across his desk.

“It seems that some of the boys made some last-minute modifications after Mr. Munroe gave final approval of the issue. The part that might interest you is on page seventeen.”

Eddie opened to a page that read “St. Albert’s Celebrity News”:

Our Arts and Entertainment correspondent is recommending the latest viral video, featuring St. Albert’s own Mr. Hartley. It must be seen to be believed. Luckily, it can be seen almost anywhere online this week. Take a tip from us, and watch it.

“I hope you’re going to harshly discipline whoever is responsible for that,” Eddie said.

“We’ll certainly take care of that,” Luce told him. “But that’s not why I’ve asked you for this chat. You understand this puts me in a very bad position?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I can explain.”

“That would be gratifying. To be honest, I found the item slightly obscure, but I’ve had some calls from parents, who have clarified the reference for me and described the video mentioned here. I’d like you to begin by explaining whether you are, indeed, the person in that video.”

Eddie didn’t know what evidence connected him to the tape, but something would come out eventually. Better to help Luce with damage control.

“It’s from years ago.”

“So you acknowledge that you made this tape?”

“I was in a committed, monogamous relationship with the woman. It wasn’t like I worked in pornography. Someone stole it from me.”

“That’s all very unfortunate,” Luce said. “I sympathize with you in many ways. But you have to understand where I’m coming from, which is the position of having fielded more than a dozen calls today from parents whose twelve-year-old sons have paid money to watch one of my teachers have sex on the Internet.”

“I can see why that’s a problem.”

“Yes, I should hope you can. Please understand that I’m the kind of man who holds the well-being of the students in my charge above everything else.”

“Maybe I can draft some kind of letter.”

“A letter?”

“Explaining to the parents what I’ve just told you. The extenuating circumstances. I can write it this evening, and the boys can take it home to their parents tomorrow.”

“I’m afraid a letter isn’t going to cut it here. This is a Catholic school. That might not mean anything to some people who work here, who treat ceremonies like our morning chapel as jokes, but parents pay a lot of money to send their children to a place where they’ll be instilled with certain values.”

“Don’t you see that I’m the victim here? I’m being exploited.”

“There’s a lot to be said for that,” Luce told him, though his voice suggested there wasn’t much at all to be said for it. “But the safety of the boys has to come first.”

“No one’s in any danger here,” Eddie said. “This will blow over soon. I’m sure of that.”

“I’m not the kind of man who spends his time on the Internet, but my understanding is that things don’t just blow over there. It’s all permanent, yes? To put it differently: every student, every current or prospective parent, every alumnus considering making a gift will be able to find this video forever. It will be searchable. It will be the first thing that comes up when they search for your name. It may be the first thing that comes up when they search for
our
name. Is my understanding correct?”

“It’s an algorithm,” Eddie said.

“Am I correct?”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“I’ve spent some time this afternoon speaking with the board, and we’ve already made our decision. I’m not here to negotiate with you, only to explain what will happen from here. You’re going to take a paid leave of absence for the rest of the calendar year, until the semester is over.”

Eddie thought he could live with that, especially if he kept getting paid. He could use the time to help Susan and manage the damage from the video.

“That sounds reasonable.”

“At that point, your tenure at the school will be over.”

“You mean I’m fired? For something I did before I even started working here?”

“As I said, we didn’t see how we really had a choice.”

“At the very least, you’ve got to pay me through the end of the school year. I’ve got a contract.”

“It’s the opinion of our board that we have plenty of standing to terminate that contract based on the personal character and conduct clause. Frankly, there was a lot of sentiment to simply get this all over with now, since we’ll have to start paying your replacement right away. But as you well know, you have your supporters on the board, and they were able to persuade others to pay you through December. I promise that you won’t do any better than that. We have had to give some of the parents reassurances that you won’t have any contact with their boys, so I’d like you to leave the building quickly and quietly.”

“Jesus, I’m not contagious. For God’s sake, I was having sex with a grown woman. They should be relieved that my proclivities run in that direction. It puts me ahead of most Catholic school teachers.”

“I really don’t think there’s any reason to be nasty at this point.”

“Nasty? I’ve spent the majority of my life in this building, since before you’d even heard of the place. Now you’re cutting me loose over something that’s not my fault. If you had any decency, you’d be circling the wagons. You’d be supporting me.”

“If it makes you feel better to continue yelling, go ahead, but nothing can be done at this point.”

Eddie needed a different approach.

“Listen, Mr. Luce. I just found out my wife is pregnant. She’s having triplets. I’ve got three kids coming in the spring. I can’t be unemployed right now. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Eddie watched the news pass over Luce’s face. He seemed to be considering the possibility that Eddie was lying in an awkward ploy for sympathy.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, and he almost seemed to be. He continued in an unguarded tone that Eddie had never heard from him. “Of course I didn’t realize that. But you’ve got to
know that the board and the parents call the shots. They’re paying a lot of money to send their boys to a place where they expect them to be protected. To be sheltered. And if they don’t want you teaching their kids, then you’re out of here. I serve at their pleasure just as much as you do, trust me on that. If they wanted me gone, I’d be done just as quickly.”

Outside, a single photographer stood talking to Stephen McLaughlin. When the photographer noticed Eddie he started taking shots of him. It seemed a good sign that only one person had come. Nothing connected him to the video besides the imaginative minds of some of his students and his history with Martha. Perhaps the story really wasn’t that big. It might all be over soon. If Eddie couldn’t get his job back, there would be something else. In the meantime, his salary would be paid for three months. But all this hopefulness disappeared when he got home and found a dozen more photographers waiting on his block. They charged him as he approached his building.

“Can you confirm that it’s you in that tape?”

“When did you make it?”

“How did it get out?”

“Do you have a message you want to send to Martha?”

“Is it true that your wife is having triplets?”

The terror that came over Eddie’s face in that moment would be captured from every possible angle and sent around the world within minutes. He dropped his chin and pressed through the crowd.

“When are they due?”

“Boys or girls? Or both?”

“Did you lose your job today? What are you going to do to support the kids?”

“Are there any other tapes?”

“Why do they call you Handsome Eddie?”

He pushed through the door and stood in the hall, catching his breath while they took pictures through the glass. Luce must have gone to the press the moment Eddie walked out of St. Albert’s. Not just about firing him, but about the babies. He might have done it in exchange for some protection for the school, but he could have just as easily done it out of spite. Eddie walked past the elevator and took the stairs to their floor, trying to imagine as he went what he would say to Susan. He wasn’t sure how much she knew, or how much anyone did. Inside she sat on the couch with her head in her hands.

“You did this,” she said without looking up. “You made this happen.”

“I’m so sorry,” he told her. “Luce fired me today, and I was begging for my job back, and I told him about the babies, because I thought that would make him reconsider. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Now she looked up.

“They know about the babies?”

“It never occurred to me.”

“You did this,” she said again.

“I’m trying to explain,” he said. “I didn’t think he’d go telling people. What a hypocrite. He talks about instilling values.”

“Alex called.”

“What?”

“Your agent called the house.”

“What did he have to say?”

“For starters, he said you never talked to him about the video. He also said that there isn’t any fucking movie playing in South Korea.”

Eddie sat down on the couch beside her, but she immediately stood and crossed the room.

“South Korea. Honestly, you must think I’m such an idiot. And the worst part is, you were right. I wanted this thing so badly that I didn’t ask where the money was coming from. South Korea. I should have known right away. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t act, Eddie. You couldn’t act sweaty if they sent you on a ten-mile run. People would think it was a rainy day. You couldn’t sell anything to anyone but me.”

“I just wanted to make you happy,” he said. “I couldn’t do it myself. And then I saw this chance, and it all seemed easy and harmless.”

“Get out.”

“Let’s talk about this. Try to see where I’m coming from.”

“You had your chance to talk about it. You’ve been lying to me every day for weeks. For months. Probably for years.”

“Not for years.”

“I’m going to be a laughingstock. There are camera crews staked outside our building. Is that what you think I wanted? You may have wanted that. Martha Martin might want that. But I don’t want that. Get out, Eddie. Get out right now.”