Matt & Zoe (22 page)

“That’s not true!”

He grabbed my shoulders. “Matty, get a hold of yourself!”

“You had him fired!” My accusation rang out across the lot. A small crowd was forming.

“I did no such thing,” Papa shouted. “Now get yourself under control. We have a show.”

“Screw the show!” I shouted. “I don’t want to be in your stupid show any more.”

“Matty!” Mamma’s voice was shocked.

Papa slapped me across the face. I was stunned, immediately shocked into quiet. I heard murmuring around us.

“I wish I wasn’t your son,” I said. My tone was bitter. “I wish you were dead.”

He looked at me and shook his head, a gesture of dismissal. “We’ll talk after the show. Go get yourself dressed.”

He turned and walked away.

Those words were the last we ever spoke to each other.

Chapter Fourteen

Chummy, aren’t they (Matt)

The beginning of the meeting is almost a replay of the last one. Peggy Young is there first—I think she’ll likely be early to her own funeral. She wears a flowered dress which was probably in style in the 1960s, but who cares about that? The important thing is that she is a tough old bird. When I arrive, she’s standing in the administrative office on the third floor of the town hall, where the school department is headquartered.

Tyler shows up right behind me, then Dianne Blakely, who gives me a death glare as she breezes past the secretaries and walks straight into the superintendent’s office without knocking.

“Chummy, aren’t they?” Peggy observes.

“Huh,” Tyler says.

“It pays to give these sorts of things attention,” she says. Then she winks.

Tyler grins. If she wasn’t 50 years older than he is, I think he’d be in love. We spend a few minutes talking strategy about the upcoming meeting, but we quiet as we hear footsteps coming up the stairs. It’s Susan Greeley, the most reasonable of the school committee members. Her shoulder length blonde hair is done up in tiny ringlets, and she’s wearing a sleeveless, formfitting burgundy dress. If it wasn’t for the wedding ring, I would think she was out for a date.

“How are you all doing?” She looks perfectly friendly when she asks the question.

Of course it’s Tyler who answers. Susan may be a couple of years older than he is, and married, but Tyler is still Tyler. “I think we’ll all be doing a lot better when the strike is all over. We should make a deal today and go out for drinks and celebrate.”

“You’re right, we should. You all can come back to my place, and meet my husband. He loves to mix martinis.”

Tyler sags like a slowly deflating basketball.

The office door opens, and Michael Barrington, the superintendent, waves. “Come in, everyone. I didn’t realize you were waiting out here.”

I’m sure he didn’t. Peggy looks as if she’s just sucked on a lemon.

Two minutes later we’re all sitting around the table again. Barrington says, “Thank you all for coming today. Before we discuss the terms of our revised offer to the union, I need to make a couple of comments.”

Peggy and I meet each other’s eyes. New proposal. That’s good news.

“As you all know, it’s a violation of the law for the teachers union to strike. We’re going to make a new proposal in an effort to resolve this issue, but I want to be clear that we intend to pursue legal action against the union. As you know, the last strike in the state, by the teachers union in Cambridge, resulted in a several hundred thousand dollars fine against the union.”

I find it interesting that he opens the negotiation with threats. Everyone in the union is aware of the Cambridge strike and the fines that the teacher’s union had to pay. That was part of the discussion we had in the first place, and we made a decision to go ahead because of the principle. All I can guess is that he’s looking for a stronger bargaining position.

“That said, the committee and the town selectmen feel it’s urgent to get the doors open again in the school system. We are prepared to make a compromise proposal. Are you ready to hear it?” At our nods, he continues. “First, the issue of the department heads. Our proposal is that we can proceed with eliminating the department head positions and replace them with curriculum coordinators as planned. However, we will do so by attrition—when a department head retires, only then will the position be eliminated. We will then allow the schools to examine the impact for two years, and revisit it the end of the two-year period.”

Barrington continues with the details of the counterproposal. The school system would split the difference between what the union asked for, and zero, which was what the school committee had originally proposed. Health insurance premiums would still increase, but the school system would pick up an additional 15% of that increase.

Peggy, Tyler and I all maintain poker faces. Any proposal would have to be taken back to the union anyway, but I suspect that this compromise proposal will do the trick.

“The final change in our counter proposal addresses disciplinary procedures,” Barrington says. “I think you all know that we’ve had some concerns about continued bullying at the high school. The anti-bullying task force made several recommendations earlier this year which addressed the need for more accountability on the faculty and staff. The committee has agreed that any new offer to the union must include these provisions.”

Diane Blakely passes out the report from the anti-bullying task force. I’m familiar with the recommendations already, and I don’t think there will be any issues as far as the union is concerned. Essentially what the proposal does is allows the superintendent’s office to directly address issues in the classroom when the education or safety of a child is involved. The language is overly broad, but I think it will likely go through. I don’t say anything, though. We’ll let the union address that when it meets.

“I’d like to see more specific language in that provision,” Peggy says. “It will be difficult to make a recommendation to the union when it’s so open ended.”

Barrington frowns. “In principle I agree, Peggy. In practice, we need to get the kids back in school. I think we can fine tune the language over time.”

Peggy looks at him skeptically. “I don’t see any reason why we can’t get the language sorted out now.”

Barrington almost rolls his eyes, and his impatience is visible. The sinks back into his seat. “What are you looking for here?”

“We need some specifics. Under what circumstances does the superintendent’s office get involved?”

Susan Greeley speaks in an annoyed sort of whiny tone. “It’s for bullying.”

“We know what it’s for,” Peggy says. “If it is for bullying, then there’s no reason we can’t be very specific about the language. As it stands, the wording in the proposal gives the superintendent’s office carte blanche to intervene in any disciplinary matter. That’s always been in the hands of the school principals, not the district.”

Blakely and Barrington look at each other. Her expression is one of annoyance. Barrington shrugs. “I don’t have any problem with revising the language,” he says.

“Then let’s get started.” Peggy’s tone allows for no defiance.

The process of going over the school committee’s proposal is slow. All of us want to get back to work, so we go through it one sentence at a time. Peggy’s insistent, and the more she raises potential scenarios, the more I think she’s correct.

Despite everything, I feel like we are making solid progress. Shortly before we break for lunch, I have a moment that takes me aback.

Tyler makes a sarcastic comment about how the teachers will be grateful to me, because there would have been no strike without me and Peggy. Peggy mutters something, I don’t know what. But for the barest second, the superintendent looks at me with naked malice. It’s over so quick I doubt whether I ever saw it; his face shifts back into politician mode. It’s disturbing. It’s almost four in the afternoon when we finally wrap it up. The proposal is ready, we’ve all agreed on it, and now it merely needs to be submitted to the union for a vote.

The meeting breaks up, all of us coming to our feet. Tyler stretches and Susan says, “I’ve got to be going. The babysitters were expecting me home more than an hour ago.” We all shake hands with her and begin to disperse. Downstairs and out the front door, Peggy stops me and Tyler. “That Michael is up to something,” she says.

“What do you mean?” Tyler looks confused when he asks the question.

“It’s out of character for him to give up this easily,” she says. “Michael Barrington isn’t a smart man. But he is one to carry a grudge. Matt, you and Tyler keep in touch with me.”

A few minutes later in the car, Tyler sums up his feelings about Peggy. “I can’t decide if that old bat is crazy or brilliant. Her warning made my skin crawl.”

He’s not the only one. Not only does the thought creep me out, but I suspect she’s right. Barrington’s already got a bad reputation within the school system, and he’s been in office just a year. Let’s hope he doesn’t take out his resentments on us. “I think we ought to be careful, Tyler.”

“You ain’t kidding.”

It’s almost 5 o’clock when I get back home. I’m tired. Emotionally tired. I want the strike over, but I also can’t help but wonder … what happens with me and Zoe when it’s over? Over the last two weeks we’ve spent a lot of time together. Time that has meant a lot to me, and I don’t want to give that up.

I should call her right now. I reach for the phone—I’m probably one of the few people left in America with a landline—but before I can pick it up and dial, it rings.

Dammit!
“Hello?”

“Matt? It’s Messalina.”

“Hey…” As always, I feel wary when my family calls.

“We got into Boston last night. I thought I should let you know.”

“How’s Mom?”

“She keeps saying that she’s wondering if you’re going to visit.”

Lina lets the words hang there for a moment. I don’t take the bait.

She continues. “Tony says you’re not going to.”

“What does Tony know?” I’m annoyed. And the annoying thing is that she knows her statement will annoy me.

“Does that mean you’ll come?”

“Yeah. I’ll come.” The words come out of my mouth, but I instantly regret them.

It would be easy to make the excuse that my family’s unconventional. And we don’t observe the same conventions everyone else does. That we’re eclectic, eccentric, maybe a little odd. None of that approximates the truth. In fact, we’re inconsiderate of each other. Lina and I hang up without any of the normal courtesies such as saying goodbye.

How would you know (Zoe)

I let out a long sigh, then lean on the table, resting my forehead on my calculus textbook. Jasmine is in the bath. She needs it—she spent the entire day at Paul Armstrong’s farm, taking lessons, but also assisting Paul with the other children. Jasmine’s that good of a rider.

If only I was that good at calculus. Unfortunately, I don’t get it at all. I stare at the textbook, I read the examples, I work the problems, and none of it makes the slightest bit of sense. I want to break something, I’m so frustrated.

Upstairs, Jasmine is thumping around and splashing in the bathtub. The tub is made out of metal, and the reverberations of toys banging against it sound throughout the house. Every once in a while, I can hear her singing. Mostly the pop songs that were hot through the summer, although sometimes she breaks into
Old McDonald Had a Farm
.

It’s not too late for me to drop this class. I could take College Algebra instead, or even Math for Liberal Arts Majors or whatever they call it. Of course if I do that, I can forget about a sciences degree. Not that I’ve decided what I want to do, but I don’t want to rule anything out. Not this early.

If I can’t learn calculus, maybe I’m just not cut out for that kind of work.

I open up my laptop, and Google “calculus tutorial video,” and check the results. There are quite a few. I navigate to the first one, and begin watching. I’m concentrating so hard, I don’t hear the knock on the door. Of course, that’s probably because Nicole knocks once, then just opens the door up.

“Hello!” she calls.

“I’m in here,” I call back.

She wanders into the kitchen. She’s still in uniform. “Hey, I just got off work a little while ago and thought I’d come by and see how you guys are doing.”

I sit back in my seat. “You want a drink? Jasmine’s in the bath, and I’m busy melting my brain.”

Nicole tilts her head to look at the cover of my book, then twist her lips up. “Ugh, calculus.”,

“It’s evil. I’ll be lucky if I pass.”

“Really?” she asks. “I would’ve thought you’d have this stuff aced.”

I shake my head. “I feel like such an idiot. It’s not just the math. It’s all of it. I don’t remember how to do this stuff. I’ve got to write papers next week, this stupid book of poetry is giving me a headache, and calculus might as well be Greek. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Have you checked into a tutor?”

I shake my head. “I don’t have time for a tutor. I’ll see what I can find online. Sometimes I think my dad was right, and I just wasted my life in the Army.”

Nicole looks startled. Then her face shifts a little, she’s incredulous. “I can’t even imagine what you mean. Your dad didn’t think that.”

Maybe it’s because this is a sore point. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so much time carrying it through my mind, so much regret that we were never able to clear the air. Her comment makes me feel a flash of anger.

“I think I know what I went through with my dad,” I say.

“Zoe, most of the time you’re right about people. But on this, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

I frown. “What are you trying to do, Nicole? I was pretty much at peace with it. I can’t argue about this. You have no idea how awful it felt to know that my parents thought I was a failure.”

“They didn’t think that!” She says, her voice rising a little bit.

I stand up, walk to the cabinet and pull out two glasses. I fill them up with ice, tonic water, then a shot of vodka in each. I pass her one of the glasses. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s pissing me off.”