Fire, The (21 page)

"Did I say something wrong?"

Sadie sighed and shook her head. It was petty, she decided, to punish him for a decision that ninety-nine out of a hundred men would make. He had already done much for her. The least she could do was act like a grown-up and show some gratitude.

"No. You said something right. I'm sorry I've kept to myself the past few weeks. I've missed our talks and our chess games."

"I have too," Kevin said.

He pulled her close and kissed her on the top of her head.

"Thanks, Sadie."

"Thanks for what?"

"Thank you for being understanding and for being my friend. You're one of the best friends I've ever had."

Sadie turned toward Kevin, took a breath, and held back the tears. She looked at this kind and thoughtful man with love and admiration and, for a moment at least, forgot that she was his second fiddle.

CHAPTER 38: KEVIN

Wednesday, April 20, 1910

The last hour began, as always, with a vocabulary lesson. Kevin walked to the front of the classroom, picked up a stick of chalk, and wrote P-E-R-I-H-E-L-I-O-N on a blank blackboard.

"Who can tell me what this word means?

The teacher scanned the class of twenty-four. He had hoped to see at least a few raised hands but saw only one, belonging to the usual suspect. The freshman, sitting in the front row between four seniors, threw up an arm and waved it like a pennant at a football game.

"Josie?"

"It's when Halley's comet is closest to the sun," she said.

"You're on the right track," Kevin said. "A perihelion is the point in an orbit of
any
comet, planet, or asteroid at which it is closest to the sun."

Josie beamed.

"Can anyone tell me why this is important to know now?"

Fred Simpson raised his hand.

"Fred?"

"It's important because Halley's comet is getting close to the sun."

"It's more than getting close. It's already there. It's sitting on the sun's front porch and getting ready to say goodbye. Halley's comet reached its perihelion today. The comet will now move away from the sun and, fortunately for us, become more visible at night."

Another student raised a hand.

"James?"

"Will it be brighter than the one in January?"

Kevin knew the answer but kept it to himself. He didn't want to douse his students' enthusiasm for one of the most famous celestial events of all time. He chose his words carefully.

"We won't know for sure until it gets closer. One thing I can tell you is that you are very lucky. Many people don't have the chance to see a bright comet in their lifetime. You all will have the opportunity to see two of the brightest comets ever in the span of three months."

Kevin walked to the right side of the blackboard, drew a fuzzy circle the size of a basketball, and then sketched a tail from the circle that extended to the left side. When he was finished, he wrote the letters A, B, and C at different places on the board.

"As you may know from your readings, a comet has three primary parts. Does anyone want to take a stab at identifying these parts?"

Kevin looked at the front row, smiled, and pointed at a student.

"Part A is the nucleus and Part C is the tail," Josie said. "I'm not sure what Part B is."

"You're correct about A and C. Can anyone tell me what Part B is called."

The teacher again surveyed his domain and again saw mostly blank faces.

"Part B is the coma. It is a diffuse cloud of gas and dust that surrounds the nucleus. The coma is the brightest part of the comet, the part we can see easily from here on Earth."

Kevin walked to the front of his desk and sat on the edge. He knew it wasn't good form, but he wanted to rest his bum while he engaged his students for the open-mike segment of Comets 101. He grabbed a pen and a pad and set them to the side.

"Now is the part of class where you can ask me questions. I will tell you everything you ever wanted to know about Halley's comet but were afraid to ask."

Kevin looked around the room.

"John?"

"My father says that Halley's comet is a big ball of fire. Is that true?"

"No," Kevin said. "I'm sure your dad's a very smart man, but comets are not balls of fire. They are celestial objects made of ice and dust. They are not unlike the dirty snowballs you kids throw at each other in January and February, except that they are as big as cities and move at speeds of up to 150,000 miles per hour."

Another hand shot up.

"Mary?"

"Will we all die if Halley's comet hits us?"

Kevin smiled.

"That's a great question, Mary. First, let me say with absolute certainty that this comet will not hit us. It won't come even close to hitting us. I know that some of you have read reports that the Earth will pass through the tail of the comet sometime next month. That will, in fact, happen. We'll discuss what that means in a few weeks."

Kevin paused for a moment and then continued.

"Now, let me answer your question hypothetically. Would many people die if a large comet or asteroid hit the Earth? The answer is yes. Large objects have hit us many times in the past and will undoubtedly hit us again, but I can guarantee that you will be able to sleep soundly tonight and for many years to come."

Kevin saw relief sweep over two-dozen faces.

"Are there any more questions?"

Several more hands went up. Apparently convinced that the big snowball in space would not turn Wallace into a crater, the students went about satisfying their intellectual curiosity.

Kevin answered their queries for thirty more minutes. He cut off the Q and A at three when he took a final question from Josh Miller, the boy who had sketched the flying saucer.

"Josh?"

"Mr. Johnson, do you think we will ever put a spaceship on a comet?"

Several students laughed.

Kevin wanted to rush to Josh's defense with things he knew. He wanted to tell the class about the Rosetta mission, an international effort to put a probe on a comet in 2014. He wanted to show Josh the film
Armageddon
just to keep his fertile mind from going to seed. He loved kids who asked so-called stupid questions. They reminded him of
him
.

"Yes. I do," Kevin said as the last bell of the day rang. "It won't happen for a while, but it will happen. Count on it."

Kevin smiled at Josh and others as they walked out of class and then turned his attention to a stack of graded papers. When he glanced again at the door, he saw Sarah. She wore a guarded smile and not her customary grin.

"It looks like you're still a hit," she said. "Maybe I should attend your classes."

"You should!"

Kevin was about to say something playful when he saw the guarded smile turn to a frown.

"Is something wrong, Sarah?"

She sighed.

"I'm not sure. Principal Morrison asked me to summon you to his office. He wants to meet with you immediately. He did not appear happy."

Kevin didn't need to guess why. He suspected it had something to do with his credentials, or lack thereof. He had hoped that the school would forgo a thorough background check and simply let him finish the year. When thirty days had passed without so much as a peep, he assumed that they had. It was clear now, however, that he had assumed incorrectly.

"I'll go there now. What about you? Would you like me to walk you home?"

"No. You go to your meeting. I'm joining two others for tea. We can talk tomorrow and maybe discuss our plans for the weekend. I'm looking forward to Saturday, Kevin."

"I am too."

Sarah brightened a bit.

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"OK."

Kevin watched her withdraw from the doorway and vanish into the hallway. He didn't like the look on her face or the news she brought, but he decided not to dwell on it. The best way to deal with unpleasant matters was to deal with them quickly and plainly.

He put the papers in a drawer and grabbed his jacket from the rack. It was time to see the boss.

CHAPTER 39: KEVIN

Kevin wasted no time walking from his classroom to Ed Morrison's office. He passed students and faculty who greeted him warmly and a secretary who greeted him coolly. When he finally entered the office, he felt the temperature drop twenty degrees.

"Miss Thompson said you asked to see me."

"I did," the principal said. "Please sit."

Morrison closed the door and returned to his desk. He sat in his substantive chair, opened a file sitting atop his desk, and stared at the man sitting in a chair directly in front of him.

"Mr. Johnson, I called you in because I wanted to give you the results of an investigation. I have recently concluded an examination of your credentials, your background, and your general fitness to teach at this school."

Kevin stared at Morrison with a poker face.

"What did you find?"

"A better question is what didn't I find. I didn't find a thing."

Morrison reached into the folder and pulled out a typewritten letter. He handed it to the teacher and then leaned back in his chair.

"What's this?" Kevin asked.

"That, Mr. Johnson, is a letter from the dean of admissions at the university in Seattle. As you can see, the dean could find no evidence that a student named Kevin Johnson has recently attended the university. He could find no evidence that a student with that name has
ever
attended the university."

"I see. Is there more?"

"Oh, there is plenty more."

Morrison pulled out two additional letters.

"I also wrote letters to the chiefs of police in Seattle and Unionville, Oregon, to make certain that our probationary science instructor was not a fugitive or someone embroiled in a serious legal situation."

Kevin felt a knot form in his stomach. This was not going well.

"Here are their replies," Morrison said as he pushed two pieces of paper across his desk. "Please look at them."

Kevin glanced at both and placed them back on the desk.

"I'm not sure what the problem is, Principal Morrison. I've broken no laws."

"You're probably right. I found no evidence that a Kevin Johnson has done as much as spit on a sidewalk or drink on a Sunday in either community. That's not the problem."

Morrison leaned forward in his chair.

"The problem is that the police have never heard of you. They've never heard of your family or anyone who claims to know you. As far as they are concerned, you don't exist."

Kevin took a deep breath and braced himself for an unpleasant verdict. He knew Morrison already had more than he needed to send him packing.

"I see."

"Do you have an explanation for all this?"

Kevin laughed to himself as he pondered not only an answer to Morrison's question but also whether to fight or flee. Was his reptilian brain telling him to mount an aggressive defense or run out the door as fast as he could? He decided to go with a version of the truth that might buy him some time and perhaps a second chance.

"I don't have an explanation, at least one you'd find sufficient. I didn't lie to you about where I'm from or where I went to school, but I can't offer anything to support those claims."

"I have nothing then," Morrison said.

"You have my word."

"I was afraid you'd say that. This complicates my decision."

Kevin decided it was time to fight. If he was going to get canned, he might as well go down swinging. He hated going out with a whimper in any situation.

"Why does it complicate anything? It seems to me that this matter is pretty cut and dried. You asked for my credentials. I can't provide those credentials. You have a responsibility to the school and the community to fire me immediately."

"You're right, Kevin. I do have that responsibility. I could have fired you three weeks ago when I received the letter from the dean. I still might fire you. I believe I have been misled."

"Then why not get on with it?"

"The reason I didn't fire you then is the reason I'm reluctant to fire you now. You're one of the most gifted educators I've ever seen. You have the respect of your peers, the love of your students, and the support of many parents and members of the community. Were I to let you go now, I would have to answer many questions myself. I'm not sure I'm prepared to do that with only six weeks left on the school calendar."

"What about the school board?" Kevin asked.

"The board has moved on to other things," Morrison said. "No one has asked to see your credentials. The members seem more interested in funding issues and expanding the curriculum than checking the background of a temporary hire. They have left the matter to me."

"I see."

"That brings me back to the point of this discussion, Mr. Johnson. Your probationary period has expired. I can either retain you for the balance of the year or I can send you on your way. What do you suggest I do?"

Kevin sat back in his chair. He had anticipated several scenarios but not this one. He had not expected that the principal would deftly shirk his responsibility and leave Kevin Johnson's fate up to Kevin Johnson. He gave the matter a moment of thought and came back with an answer that Morrison probably didn't expect.

"I suggest that you let me finish the year," Kevin said. "I'll complete the job that you asked me to do and walk away in June. I'll be happy, you'll be happy, and no one, including the students, will be any worse for wear."

The principal studied Kevin for a minute and then reached for the papers scattered on his desk. He placed the papers in the folder and returned to his star instructor.

"You have six weeks, Mr. Johnson. Please don't give me a reason to regret my decision to keep you on. You're dismissed."

Kevin sighed and got up from his chair.

"Thank you. I won't let you down."

Kevin walked out of the office, smiled at the frowning secretary, and bolted out the front door into the April sunshine. He wanted to find Sarah, give her that long-overdue kiss, and tell her about his near-death experience in the office of the principal, but he knew that that exchange would have to wait for another time.