Beyond Eighteen (28 page)

“
Oh my God, Max, I am so
scared. I came back to the dorms and I…I found an envelope…it was
on my bed…”

“
Okay, alright, Wilson,
what did it say?” I said really slowly, trying to calm the raging
sea pounding in her voice.

“
It was addressed to me,
no return address…it only had Wilson Mooney on the front of it,”
she said building upon the energy she had swirling so vigorously I
could feel it through the phone.

“
Wilson, sweetheart, what
did the letter say?”

“
I am so frickin’ scared,
what if it’s about my financial aid? What if they decided to pull
my funding because I don’t have any legal guardians any
more?”

“
What did the letter say?”
I repeated as evenly as possible.

“
It said, it said, well
here let me just read it to you…” I heard paper scraping against
itself as she pulled the phone away from her mouth. “Joanie, this
fucking letter won’t stay open. I can’t hold the phone and keep the
letter from folding closed.”

There was a rustling of the phone.

“
Joanie, I don’t want to
be expelled.”

“
What the hell is going on
out there?” I started to feel myself getting stressed. “Can you
please just read me the letter?” I barked.

“
It says, ‘Miss Wilson
Mooney, Due to the newly collected and recently discovered
discrepancies in your schooling, the acting executive board of
Wesley Academy for Girls and I request your appearance in my office
upon receipt of this letter. If you fail to appear in my office I
will have no choice but to revoke your financial aid and expel you
from Wesley Academy without due process or cause. Please call my
office at 555-7337, extension #14713, Yours truly, Dean McCallous.’
That’s all….it is dated yesterday, December 29th. Oh my God, Max, I
don’t want to lose my financial aid five months before the end of
school!”

“
You’re not going to lose
anything. The letter is only dated yesterday. Settle down. They
aren’t going to take away your financial aid. I’ve never heard of
them doing that because someone’s guardian died. And if they do, I
will take care of your tuition,” I said, trying to ease her mind. I
heard Joanie say something to Wilson and that’s when everything
shifted and her voice became the calm before the storm.

“
Oh my God, this letter
has nothing to do with financial aid. Why didn’t I see it sooner?
They know about us!” Wilson yelled into the phone. “Oh my fucking
God, they know about us. Max, what are we going to do? Oh my God,
Max, what are they going to do to you?” she hollered.

“
Wilson, everything is
going to be okay. Even if this letter is about us, I’ve already
signed and sent in my resignation papers. They can’t do anything to
me. So don’t worry about what’s going to happen to me. Wilson,
listen, I won’t let anything happen to you, do you hear me? I love
you.” I waited for her to answer.

“
Yes, I love you too,
Max,” she sobbed.

I heard Joanie in the
background talking to Wilson, saying, “You have to settle down,
Wilson. Do you hear me? Take a couple of deep breaths and settle
down. You are all worked up over an assumption. You don’t know for
sure what this letter is about. The best thing to do is get into
the bathroom, run some cold water over your face. I’m not going to
let you go to Dean McCallous’s office alone. I will be with you,
okay?” Joanie’s voice was firm and reassuring.
Thank God she’s there with her.

Suddenly the rustling of fabric and air
sounded like Wilson gave the phone to Joanie. My heart was
thrashing in my chest and the edges of my ears fucking hurt from
pressing my phone so hard against it.

“
Max, hello? You still
there?”

“
Yes, Joanie, I am,” I
answered quickly.

“
Listen, she’s really
starting to freak out. I think I got her settled down. But,
honestly, I have a bad feeling about this letter. I think it’s
pretty serious. I don’t know how much more she can take. After
everything you guys have been through this week...She just might
lose it. How much longer before you are able to come out?” Joanie’s
voice was very methodical and slow as she spoke.

“
I don’t know, Joanie. I
will do my best to get out there as soon as I can. A day, maybe
two,” I answered.

“
Do what you need to do.
Just get out here as fast as you can,” Joanie said in a heavy
whisper.

“
Okay, thanks,” I
answered.

Joanie didn’t respond
before she hung up. I knew her attention was on Wilson. That was
her number one concern, and mine too. My head was spinning, the
victim of the ebb and flow of elation and desecration. One minute I
was fulfilled, the next empty and lost.
What am I going to do? I gotta stay calm…should I call Gary?
No, he’s already handled my resignation from Wesley. What if he can
help Wilson? No, no, no, no…I don’t need him to know about that.
Maybe I just need to get there; damn I just gotta get to
her.
I snatched my phone and dialed. The
phone rang several times before I heard her voice.

“
Hel—”

“
Mom, listen, I really
need your help…”

~ Wilson ~

After splashing some water on my face, it
wasn’t long before I started to feel a little more put together.
Thank God for Joanie, she wouldn’t leave my side. I think the fact
that I blew up on the plane about everything being so fucked up in
my life may have caused her to be concerned with my stability and
whether or not I was about to fall off the deep end, or so they
say.

The letter I got from the Dean was the
proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. It was the one thing
that, if you were going to pile shit upon shit, was the last turd
to hit the fan.

“J, I don’t think I can go in there with a
straight face and not give away everything that I know. I can’t
fake it this time,” I said, trying to keep the fear from
resurfacing.

“Wilson, you can, and you must. I’ll be
there with you, I promise. I will not let Dean McCallous or anyone
else separate us.” Joanie picked up a brush and started brushing my
hair smooth. “You’ve gotta go in there confident and put together.
Don’t let them win anything. Now get your phone and call the Dean’s
office. You can do it,” Joanie’s words rolled off her tongue like
she’d given this type of pep talk a hundred times before.

I felt my heart thunder in my chest. My ears
immediately clogged with the pressure of regret, and the back of my
throat felt like the Mohave Desert.

Holy shit, Wilson, face your fears and
call. Stop being a frickin’ baby and take care of your business.
After all that I have been through this week, this is really
nothing more than a hiccup in the breath of my life. I can do this,
I can do this, I can do this.
I chanted that mantra in my head
as I picked up my phone and read the phone number off the
letter.

It didn’t take long for the phone to start
ringing. With every subsequent ring, my heart beat faster and my
mind tried to talk me into hanging up. It wasn’t until the fourth
ring was abruptly cut short that I realized I was about to seal my
fate with the dean of Wesley Academy.

“Good afternoon, this is Dean McCallous,
with whom am I speaking?” Her voice was cold and calculated. I just
held my cell phone to my mouth and continued to breathe. It was
awkwardly silent until Joanie kicked me in the leg.

“Ouch,” I growled as I pulled the phone away
from my face.

“Talk,” Joanie whispered demandingly.

I gave her a dirty, scrunched-up face before
I cleared my throat.

“Hello? Who is this?” Dean McCallous broke
the noisy silence I tried to create.

“Umm, hi, Dean McCallous, ahhh, you left me
a letter? Oh, this is Wilson…Wilson Mooney. In room—”

“Oh yes, Wilson, don’t be silly I know what
room you’re in,” she interrupted me.

“Well, umm, I just got, I mean, I just
received the letter you wrote to me about meeting you in your
office, today?” I felt like I was tripping over my thoughts and
struggling to find educated words to make me sound like my three
and three quarter years at Wesley weren’t just a huge waste of
money and time.

“Miss Mooney. Why, yes, we need to meet
today. We have some serious business to discuss. And I think the
quicker we rectify this situation, the better for all parties
involved. I am on my way out to lunch. Be in my office at 12:45; I
should be back from lunch by then. And for your information, it
will just be me. The head mistress along with the active executive
board feel this would be better handled without a room full of
people.” She didn’t wait for me to respond; she just hung up her
end of the line and assumed I would show up at her office at a
quarter to one.

****

It was 12:43 when Joanie pulled me by my
hair out the door to meet with Dean McCallous. She looped her arm
through mine and basically pulled me the whole way there. Okay, so
maybe all the way there was less than 200 steps in any direction.
Nevertheless, it was 12:45. Time to face the wrath of judgment
coming from the dragon herself.

I grabbed the door handle to the main entry
to the administrative building. My hands were damp and I could feel
how the chill of the outside clung to the knob. I pulled, hoping
the muscles in my arms wouldn’t betray me and slam the door against
my body as I tried to slip inside. Fortunately Joanie was behind
me, strong as ever. She caught the edge and pulled it open for me.
I didn’t remember the door being that heavy. My insides felt like
Jell-O, and no amount of tightening my stomach muscles or wrapping
my arms around my gut made the feelings go away. It was 59 degrees
outside, which made it feel like 105 inside as J and I shuffled our
way into the main office. I was freezing with chills rippling
through my body. I felt everything in my stomach churn, and my
mouth water.
God…please don’t throw up,
I chanted in my
head.

I stopped just inside the front door of the
building. I couldn’t make my legs move. The room that always seemed
comfortable and safe became cold and scary. Joanie pushed against
me from behind as she leaned in and whispered something about
having my back and to move my ass out of people’s way. Finally,
once she pushed me forward and knocked me off balance, I shuffled
toward the front desk. In my three and three quarter years at
Wesley, I’ve never been so uncomfortable in that building.

The subtle gray carpet with small, dark blue
diamonds, plush under my feet, gave way as I trundled across to an
oversized warm oak desk. On the pale, almond-colored wall behind
the beautiful middle aged woman who sat at the desk were plastered
accolades of how wonderful Wesley was to the academic world.
Multiple diplomas from Harvard, Stanford, and Yale, joined by
certificates of recognition from senators, diplomats, and
governmental officials hung prominently in the traditional
eye-catching Z format.

My eyes scanned across the woman’s desk, as
if I needed to find something to make me feel comfortable, or give
me a reason to approach her. There was a white orchid standing
erect, held up by a bamboo pole, next to a wire basket stacked full
with papers that needed her attention. To the right of her, a big
desk phone that had several lines blinking and more buttons than
she needed, or so I assumed. A small, plain white coffee cup with a
gold rim stood thick yet comfortably on a circular pad plugged into
the wall behind her. I didn’t notice a pencil holder, yet she had a
couple of pens resting diagonally across a note pad with Wesley’s
letterhead centered at the top. She had some scribbled notes on it,
illegible to me, but most likely perfectly clear to her. Finally, I
saw a rectangular black plaque with white block lettering sitting
noticeably on the right front corner of her desk, informing me of
how to address her—Deborah Mae Schoonover.

She had strawberry blonde wavy hair courtesy
of L’Oreal. Her face, overly populated with red freckles, made her
thin lips redder than any other part of her skin. Her delicately
rounded light blue eyes greeted me with a calm attentiveness that
allowed me to relax in her presence. Impeccably dressed, as all
staff was required to be at Wesley, she wore a light blue button-up
blouse with a navy blue cardigan.

“Well, hi there, Wilson, Joanie. Nice to see
you girls back from winter break,” she said, greeting us in a
comfortable tone.

“Hi, Ms. Schoonover,” I answered back, still
trying to calm the storm swirling in my stomach.

“Glad to be back, Ms. Schoonover,” Joanie
said out of pure necessity to acknowledge that an adult addressed
her.

“Well, tell me, what brings you ladies here
this afternoon?” she asked inquisitively.

Didn’t she know? She had to have known that
the dean wanted to see me. I assumed everyone in the administrative
offices knew why I was here. I looked around the room, ready for
everyone to be staring, waiting for me to say the humiliating words
that lingered so purposefully on my lips; but nobody seemed to have
given us a second look.

“Umm, well, I have an appointment at 12:45
with Dean McCallous,” I rambled in a hushed whisper. Leaning closer
to her so nobody who walked by could hear that I had to meet with
the dean of Wesley. Because let’s face it, history had proven with
Dean McCallous, the only time she wanted to sit across the desk
from a student was if she absolutely had to.

Leaning closer to me and mirroring my hushed
whisper, Ms. Schoonover replied, “Well, then, I will let Dean
McCallous know you are here. In the meantime, why don’t you ladies
make your way on over toward her office. There are a couple of
chairs just outside her door.” She pointed to the administrative
offices to her right.