"Um, yes, these desks will be fine. The two-seaters will help us if we have a limited number of books."

  "That was the idea."

  I couldn't hold it in any longer. "Oh, God." I blurted the words out in painful despair. I pushed my hands through my hair and sat down on one of the dusty desktops.

  I'd left Atlanta. I had no money, and the gas that was supposed to be in my car had dripped out onto the dirt road in front of the most fucked up town with the most backwoods people I'd ever come across. My savings were the two coins in my pocket, and they wouldn't last long. I didn't even have enough to get a hotel. I'd have to sleep in my car again, if I could get the Falcon's engine cranked, then I could... I didn't even have enough gas to get to the next town.

  "Mr. Christian?" Franklin prompted.

  I nodded. "Like I said, it's just not what I expected."

  He shook his head. "What were you expecting?"

  I released a nervous, panicked grunt. "A school."

  "It is a school—"

  The words flowed out of my mouth. "A school has teachers, office clerks, and a coffee pot. This is a one-room schoolhouse. When you offered me the job, you said—"

  He cut me off. "I hired you to be a teacher—"

  "Not just a teacher, Franklin, the teacher."

  We stood there with our gazes locked. He was like a stone, but I was finished with the game. I turned and shook my head. "I'm sorry."

  "This is the backwoods, Matt—

  I stood. "I'm sorry."

  A truck pulled up. The man called out as the kids walked over to him. “We got all kind of things, brooms, shovels, rags.”

  “Let me go help unload the truck. I'll be right back."

  19

  I stepped outside and, luckily, Carla, along with everyone else was preoccupied. Unless, they had a few gallons of gasoline in the back of the truck, all the brooms in the world wouldn’t help that shack.

  I made a beeline for the trees behind the school. Despite being on top of a mountain, I needed air. I wanted to run screaming down the hill, but that wasn't an option unless I stole a car.

  Maybe I could hitchhike back to Atlanta and face my past. I scoffed; no one there would have me, all those who would were dead.

  Body heat warmed by back. I turned around, but there was no one there. I searched the trees between the school and me, but, again, there was no one there. Just my crazy imagination, I guessed, maybe my make-believe superhuman telepathy was weakening. But I was usually correct when I felt I was being watched.

  I was making my way through the trees toward the schoolyard when I heard muffled voices. It was a sound I knew well, the chatting back and forth of little girls.

  I straightened and looked around. "Hello?"

  My question was answered by giggles, but they were behind me. I turned and looked, but there was nothing there except the empty, slanting, cliff. I spun in a circle. No one there.

  My chest tightened.

  The laughter rang out from behind me again as branches moved. I hurried and broke through the limbs to the open schoolyard.

  Amy jumped and turned as someone darted back into the trees. "Oh!" She laughed nervously, "Mr. Christian. I'm so sorry I didn't know you were there. I was just...um..." She wiped her mouth. "I'm sorry did you need something?"

  "Who was here?"

  She broke into high laughter and waved her hand. "Just one of the kids—"

  "Mr. Christian!"

  Amy and I both jumped.

  Carla stood with her hands on her hips. "Can I show you the schoolyard now."

  "Yes, Carla. I found him for you. Enjoy, Mr. Christian, I'll see you tomorrow. ’Bye." Amy turned and walked away quickly.

  Carla pursed her lips and stared after Amy. "I pray she doesn't become a Jezebel." She peered up at me. "Shall we begin?"

  After we walked the perimeter of the mountain island and Carla gave me a tour of the schoolyard, including the tree, the stump, and the bench, it was time for me to go back and face Franklin. I wasn't sure how long I could make this work, but my options were severely limited.

  I readied myself as I climbed the cinderblocks again. I paused outside the door, then stepped through. Franklin was cleaning out the coal stove.

  I cleared my throat. "Carla is a thorough child."

  He stood. "Yes, she's very bright. I'm hoping she won't be let down."

  I relaxed my shoulders and blew out a breath. "I'm sorry I reacted like that."

  Franklin frowned me.

  "I have never been in a situation like this before."

  Franklin put his hands behind his back. "Meaning your personal situation?"

  I folded my arms. My suspicions about him knowing about Darlene deepened. I couldn't let that throw me. I needed the house, I needed the job, and I needed for everything to work, if only temporarily; I needed the little bulldog man to like me. I would do whatever it took, including eating crow.

  I lowered my arms. "I was referring to the situation of being the only teacher at a school. I mean, teaching that many different grade levels—" I halted my tangent and took a breath. "Please forgive my earlier outburst. It's hard finding a job mid-year."

  "I reckon it's hard to lose a job mid-year as well."

  That was a jab.

  I sat on a desktop. "Yes, well, not as hard as you may think. You see..."

  He held up a hand and waved me off. "Matt, one thing you will find out about the town is that no one will know your business unless you share it."

  I exhaled. "Thank you, Mr. Mullis. I'd like to take the job."

  Franklin cocked his head. "Are you sure?"

  It was time to lay it on thick. "My passion is teaching. I'm hoping I can teach the kids, and that they can teach me about...Appalachian life as well."

  Franklin gave a victorious nod and grinned. "Okay then, you'll be the teacher."

  "How many students will I be teaching?"

  "Well, we only have eighteen seats, so I reckon eighteen."

  "I can handle that."

  He moved to the double doors, but then stopped himself. "To be honest, I have no idea how many kids you'll have. They'll be behind in their studies." He shrugged. "Most of the older boys probably won't even come."

  "Why is that?" I asked.

  "Well, Middwood is a coal town. Mind you, not the hopping business it used to be, but still. If one of those young boys is lucky enough to get a job at the mines, they won't leave it."

  "What about their futures—"

  "Matt, we ain't in Atlanta. A man feeds his family with his hands and sweat. If a man can't do that here, then he isn't much of a man."

  "I can respect that." The words came out. I meant them, mostly, but I held education at a higher level than most people.

  "But the little ones will be here," he gave me an excited smile.

  "I have my lesson books with me. I'll have to change them a bit for different ages, but with a few pots of coffee I'll figure it out," I grinned through my terrified lie as I scanned the room for a place to put the coffee pot. "There isn't electricity is there?"

  "No."

  "No problem."

  "Good. I'm sure you need to prepare, so we should start heading back to town."

  We walked down the hill in silence, which was nice. I needed the quiet. Mostly because I didn't know what to say, but I could tell Franklin was pleased.

  Once we got down the hill and crossed Keeper's Bridge, I couldn't help but look at my car, wishing it would crank. If it would, everything would be different, but it shouldn't take too long to get it fixed. "Franklin, about my car—"

  "Yes, yes, I'll see what I can do about helping you find someone to work on your car."

  As we approached Main Street, Franklin proposed, "Do you need to stop in Magnolia's, the grocery store?"

  "I was planning on unpacking, then going out later."

  "Mr. Christian, it's already four o'clock. The sun will be going down soon."

  I gave him a flat grin.

  “You see, the whole town shuts down a good hour and a half before the sun sets."

  "What time does the sunset?"

  Right off the top of his head, "Tonight the sun goes down at five thirty-seven."

  "Are you being serious?" I asked.

  "Mr. Christian, be glad it's open on Sunday at all."

  I raised my hands. "Okay, I surrender."

  "Good. The store—"

  I held up my hands again and he stopped. I tried to think of a better way to voice my dilemma, but instead I scratched my head lamely. "Um, I'll hold off on the store until I get paid.”

  His forehead returned to its original old man frown, and he raised his chin in a dismissive little shake. “Mr. Christian, we can’t have our new teacher starving to death. Don't worry about the money, I'll loan it to you. I hope you are a good teacher; you're turning out to be an expensive hire."

  As touched as I was, I shook my head in disapproval. "That is more than generous, but I can't accept—"

  "Matt, kids without food in their tummies are like books without words. I’m sure that goes for teachers, too.”

  I chuckled. "Sounds like something a teacher would say."

  “Yes, it does.” Franklin cleared his throat. "I can take the groceries out of your first pay."

  I downplayed my desperation, "If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

  "Good. It's settled."

  My mouth opened, but no words came out. After everything that had happened I knew I didn't deserve this kindness, but damn I was grateful and starving. I nodded and bowed my head. "Thank you, Mr. Mullis. I can get another job and pay you back—"

  "There are no other jobs in Middwood. You got the last one."

  We made our way down the street and into Magnolia's Grocery. The store was small, with six aisles, all with low shelves. There were only two other people in the store, and one of those was a kid sweeping in the back corner.

  "Cutting it close, Mr. Frank," the young man sweeping said, looking at the clock.

  "I know, Bobby. We’re just making a quick stop. We won't keep you long at all. Five minutes, tops.” Franklin nodded to me. "Make it quick."

  It was like an egg timer had been wound in my chest, but with a store this size, it wouldn't take long.

  The floors were filthy, but with the dirt roads in town, keeping them clean would be impossible. The selections were small, but it had all the basics. I just had to figure out what I needed and not get overzealous with my buying.

  Franklin hovered the next row over. He approved when I stopped and picked up shaving cream. "Yes, a clean-shaven man always looks more professional."

  "I will only be shaving my neck. The beard stays."

  He frowned. "I'm going to go wait by the door while you finish up."

  "Yes, sir." I returned to my shopping. By the time I made my way to the checkout counter, I had a loaf of SunBeam bread, two packs of American cheese, butter-like stuff, three boxes of Corn Flakes, milk, Lifebuoy Soap, can of coffee, and the tube of Barbasol shaving lotion."

  "Who is he?" a husky female voice behind me asked.

  20

  I turned, and there was a middle-aged woman with wiry, chestnut hair playfully stalking toward me in a near sideways dance. Her curvy, slinking hips said everything, and their language made me uncomfortable.

  Franklin must have played football back in the day because he intercepted her, stepping between us. "Magnolia, this is Matt Christian. He is the new teacher."

  She opened her mouth and inhaled the world with her overdramatic admiration. "The new teacher? I didn't know we had a new teacher," she said in a raspy, smoker's voice.

  "It was announced at church," Franklin grumbled.

  "Franklin, you know I don't go to church anymore." Magnolia grinned, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  She pushed past Franklin and put her arms around me, giving me a tight hug. "Oh, what a surprise. The kids are going to be so happy. And, Franklin, you old devil, you know how to pick ’em." She pulled away and looked me up and down. "He is just as tall and handsome as he can be. Damn!"

  "Magnolia..." Franklin murmured.

  She swatted at Franklin and extended her hand. "Yes, I am Magnolia. You can get anything you need here. Do you hear me, Matt?"

  "Magnolia..." Franklin warned.

  She glared at him. "Oh, I heard you the first time. I'm just being friendly." She started taking the items from my arms and set them on the counter. "Bobby? Bobby, come check out Middwood's only clean drink of water." The teenager walked up and listed the groceries in a small journal. The store didn't have a cash register.

  "Speaking of that. Matt, you will need to boil your water before you drink it."

  "You're welcome, Frank."

  "Thank you, Magnolia," he huffed.

  "I noticed it had a zing to it."

  "A zing?" Magnolia laughed louder than my ears liked. "You've got a zing, too, but listen to Franklin. Mining is good for the pockets of bigwigs but bad for the water. Broken souls and drinking water don't mix."

  "Broken souls?"

  Magnolia gestured toward Bobby. "Check him out. He works at the mine. Doesn't he look like a broken soul?"

  I smiled at him. "What do you do at the mine?"

  The boy eyed Franklin. "I pick out the slate from the coal." He looked at Magnolia with earnest eyes. “It’s getting really late.”

  “You do a fine job, Bobby. And you’re right, we need to hurry,” encouraged Franklin.

  "Will you be coming to school tomorrow?" I asked.

  The boy kept his head low writing up my items.

  Magnolia slid up next to me, pushing her shoulder into mine and whispered, "No he will be too busy dying at the mine in the morning." She raised her chin to look up at the boy. "What is it, Bobby, six cents an hour?" She whispered to me, "He works a fine job, but the boy has no soul. Just like a ghost child; the town’s full of them."

  "Ghost children?" I asked.

  "Yeah, them dead kids floating around, scaring up the damn place. Even my cats—"

  "Put the stuff on my tab," Franklin instructed Bobby.

  "Mr. Mullis—" I protested.

  He corrected, "Franklin. And you heard me, Bobby."

  "Franklin, are you sure you don't mind? Should I put some of the things back."

  “It’s time for final selections,” Bobby insisted.

  "Can I put somethin' on your tab, too?" Magnolia asked with a straight face, then started laughing, practically falling over the counter.

  Franklin ignored her.

  She moved to him and put her hand on Frank's arm. "I was just kidding, Frank."

  Franklin pulled his arm away.

  "Sourpuss." She turned to me. "I'm still kidding. Ain't he a sweetheart, Matt? The town is full of helpful people. Just be careful when they start being too helpful."

  I grinned to be polite, but Franklin groaned. I was missing something. The history between them was confusing.

  "It is," she feigned as she moved behind the counter to start bagging my groceries. "Middwood is so helpful. When my husband was killed—"

  "Died," corrected Franklin.

  "Oh, that's right, Franklin. When my husband died—"

  He tried to cut her off. "Bobby, let's hurry it up."

  "He writes slow, Frank! Like I was saying, when he died, the town was nice enough to take my store and my house from me—"

  "Magnolia, are you drinking again?" Franklin asked.

  She fake-smiled at him. "As a matter of fact, I never quit." With a smoker’s cough, she turned back to me and continued, "The bank said we owed more money than we did."

  "But," Franklin jumped in, indicating the store, "we let you keep your job."

  She joined Franklin's words like a rehearsed performance. "They let me keep my job." She shook her head and smiled at him. "And I am very grateful."

  "I'm sorry to hear about your husband."

  Her cloudy eyes hinted at a sparkle, and a big, proud grin grew on her face. She squealed as she ran around the counter and hugged me from the side. "I'm going to keep an eye on you, handsome."

  "You're embarrassing me, Ms. Magnolia."

  "That's right, Matt. And I'm a miss."

  I gave her a purposeful grin, stepped up to the counter, and took my bag along with a gallon jug of water.

  "Oh, sweetheart. You have some lint on the back of your shirt," she whined as she moved close behind me.

  "Oh?" I craned my neck to look at my back.

  "Don't worry, honey. Mama will get it for you." She steadied herself by grabbing and squeezing my right shoulder, then slowly brushed off my upper and lower back area. "There we go."

  "Thank you, ma'am."

  "No problem, honey. Anytime—" Her words were cut short as she lost her balance and caught herself by throwing one arm around my waist and the other arm, or hand rather, clenched my right butt cheek. "Oh hell!"

  I jumped and dropped everything. I turned to catch her. She stood slowly, facing me. She gently brushed her hair out of her face, then gliding her fingers over her lips, she said, "I'm real sorry about that, hon. I lost my balance. I could have rocked you over."

  "It's time to go," Franklin barked.

  Magnolia uncoiled herself from me. "You heard the man, Bobby."

  “Ms. Magnolia, there isn't enough time to clean this up."

  I bent down and re-bagged my groceries that were laying in a puddle of water."

  "What a mess," Bobby whined. "My mom is going to kill me if I'm home after sundown."

  "Stop cryin'." She groaned. "We'll leave it there till tomorrow."

  "I can help you clean it up," I offered.

  "Nope, it's time to go. Welcome to Middwood, handsome."

  I stepped out onto the street and motioned to the store with my wet bag, "She’s an interesting woman."

  "Matt, she's done this before."

  "I'm sure she just—"

 

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