Inside Out, page 12
“Evil waits for no one.” Click. She hung up without another word.
My mood soured quickly as I made the short drive to my office. I shared a space with the school board officers: president, vice president, treasurer, and secretary; the assistant the four of them had to share; and my secretary, Priscilla. When I walked through the door, I was surprised to find all the school board members present, not just the officers, along with their assistant.
“Surprise,” Priscilla said drolly.
“You shouldn’t have. It’s not my birthday,” I replied, trying to inject a sense of humor to lighten the mood of the room. Whatever they had to say couldn’t be that bad. My optimism faded when it occurred to me someone might’ve seen Julius walk me to my car at one o’clock that morning and kiss me goodbye. We weren’t talking about a quick peck either. Julius gave me a why-don’t-we-take-this-back-inside kiss.
“Dr. Bradley, could we have a private word in the boardroom?” Caitlyn Simpson posed it as a question, but the look on her face told me she expected me to follow without hesitation.
“After you,” I said to all of them. I stopped by Priscilla’s desk and handed her the coffee carrier and bag of pastries. “Go ahead and enjoy your treat.”
“You’re too good to me,” she said tearfully.
“It’s going to be okay,” I consoled her, wishing I felt as certain as I sounded. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
She snorted. “That evil bastard doesn’t care who he destroys.”
I wanted to ask who she meant but knew I’d find out soon enough. The school board looked pissed enough as it was, so I didn’t want to keep them waiting. Each of the board members had daytime jobs they were missing to host this impromptu meeting with me.
“Dr. Bradley, won’t you have a seat?” Caitlyn asked, gesturing to an open chair across from her. “We won’t keep you long, but an issue was brought to our attention late yesterday evening that impacts all of us and our students. We decided it was best to get this out in the open so we can devise a plan.”
“Why didn’t you just call me last night, Cait?” I asked. “Maybe it would’ve saved you all the hassle of being late to your jobs.”
“This is too important to handle over the phone,” she replied. I noticed both her posture and tone of voice had softened. “Dr. Bradley, we”—she circled her forefinger in the air to encompass everyone in the room—“really like you and the positivity and experience you bring to our school. We respect all the measures you’ve taken to rebuild the relationship between the faculty and the school board. I cannot express how happy that makes me—us.”
I glanced around the room to see everyone nodding solemnly. “But…”
“There are no buts,” Earl Jenner, the vice president said. “We just want you to know how much we appreciate you before we discuss the matter at hand.”
“Which is?” I prompted.
“You have the board’s full support, Dr. Bradley,” Cheryl Highlander said. “We truly admire you.”
“Thank you,” I told her. If they were so happy with my job performance, then why did it look like they were attending my funeral? “I have to admit, I’ve never received praise like this delivered in gloomy monotones. It kind of feels like I entered The Twilight Zone.”
“It’s because none of us want to be the one to repeat mean, hurtful things to a person who’s done nothing to deserve them,” Cait said.
“Clearly a complaint was filed against me. Can I ask by whom and what their grievances were?”
“Apparently, word has filtered around the county about the play we plan to perform in January,” Cait told me.
“The play the board voted on before I was hired?”
“Yes, that play. The school board has received a signed petition asking us to terminate the production of Inside Out.” Then I realized that most of Caitlyn’s hurt came from the idea of disappointing her daughter. She had to know how much Inside Out meant to Clara.
“No,” I said firmly. “There’s not a single line in that play that is inappropriate for the student body to speak or an audience to hear.”
“I agree with you wholeheartedly, Dr. Bradley,” Cait said. “You have to know how personal this is for me, but I have to think like a mature adult and not the mother of one of the creators.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked her. “Are you even considering honoring the petition?”
“We have to take these things seriously, Rome,” Earl said. “None of us want cancel the play.”
“Okay, then why the gloom and doom?”
“We think it’s best to at least hold a public meeting to allow the parents to speak their minds and let them hear our thoughts in return.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. “I agree that’s fair, but are there really that many parents upset about the play? How many signatures did they collect?”
“Seven hundred and fifty,” Cait said.
“We only have six hundred and thirty-two students registered at Blissville High School,” I stated. Cait snorted, Earl chuckled, and a few others snickered in the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t aware of enrollment numbers.”
“It’s okay, Dr. Bradley. We understand why you’re upset. We are too.”
“I think we need to cross reference the names on the petition to the names of our high school student body,” I recommended.
“Why?” Betsy Jones asked.
“Because I’m not willing to listen to any complaints from anyone outside our school district or anyone who doesn’t have a child enrolled in the high school. If parents of a kindergartner don’t want their kid to attend the play, then they don’t have to drive them to Goodville to attend any of the performances. It isn’t like they can accidentally stumble across the play.”
“You make a valid point,” Cait said. “I’m so irritated I didn’t think of that.”
“I’m plenty fired up about it, but that only makes my thoughts sharper.”
“I’ll ask Sandra to compare names on the petitions to our roster,” Cait said. Sandra was the assistant assigned to the board members.
“Or you can have Priscilla look at it,” I suggested. “She knows everybody in this town. Hell, she’s worked in this district for fifty years.”
“True,” Earl said. “Her mind is quicker than any computer.”
“That’s what she keeps telling me,” I replied. “Who drew up the petition in the first place?”
“Roy Halifax,” Cait replied, disdain dripping from her tongue. “There has never been a more grotesque man to walk this earth.”
“He founded the Preserving Our Society group, and they hold meetings each month to discuss ways they can run off the gays and other minorities who they feel are ruining our way of life.”
“You don’t say?” I asked, sitting back in my chair. My mood had improved for the first time since I arrived.
“Why are you smirking?” Cait asked suspiciously.
“I refuse to fear any group with an acronym of POS.”
“He is a piece of shit!” Cait declared then covered her mouth and burst into laughter.
The rest of us followed her until we were practically crying from laughing so hard at her outburst. I knew in that moment we would take on the piece of shits together and come out the victor.
“We’re set to have the auditions next week,” I reminded Cait. “Do you want me to slide them back a week?”
“No,” she replied firmly. “We’ll schedule a public meeting for Friday and take it from there. Emails will go out to high school parents, and I’ll make sure it gets announced in the Blissville Daily News.”
“Do you think it’s wise to encourage more people to show up?” Earl asked.
“First of all, we don’t do things in secret,” Cait said firmly. “The previous school board, along with the former superintendent who is serving time in jail, operated on corruption and deceit. I promised transparency, and that’s what I’m going to deliver. Besides, if we don’t tell our students and their parents, only the people who want to stop the play will show up. Is that what we want?”
“Not at all,” Cheryl said.
“We’ll need to include the overview of the play in the newsletter and inform the parents that three of Blissville High’s students wrote the play and lyrics for the songs. I would think that most parents would be impressed,” I suggested.
“Agreed,” Cait said. “I’ll also let them know the full board, not just the parent of one of the playwrights, read the play and approved it. I plan to objectively listen to valid complaints, not hateful rhetoric, and hold a public vote in front of those who attend.” The look in her eye said she wouldn’t be swayed to cancel the play because of some ignorant bigot, so I released a grateful sigh.
“Well, I guess that concludes this meeting then?” I asked. “Or was there anything else we needed to discuss?”
Cait looked around the room to see if anyone else had something they wished to bring up, but everyone shook their heads. “Meeting adjourned then. I will email everyone in the next day or so to confirm a time for Friday’s meeting.”
I shook the hands of each member as they left the boardroom then went in search of Priscilla and found her in Sandra’s office. Both of them were sitting behind Sandra’s desk looking at the computer, and I had no doubt they were already scrutinizing the names on the petition list.
“This is ridiculous,” Priscilla said, shaking her head. “It would be easier to point out the legitimate names on this list since there are so few of them. Ha! Gresham Powell died in 2015. Who the hell are they trying to fool with this bullshit list? I’m going to nail their balls to the wall.” Uh-oh! Someone woke up “The Dragon” and they would pay dearly.
“Let me know if I can help in any way,” I said, eliciting a startled gasp from the ladies. They’d been too enthralled with the list to notice I was standing inside the doorway.
“You can help by not giving an old woman a heart attack,” Priscilla told me. “Why are you sneaking around here? It’s unsettling.”
“I’m not sneaking around. You were just so absorbed by your mission you didn’t notice.”
Priscilla conceded with a shrug of her bony shoulders. “Your handsome fella dropped something off at your desk. He looked disappointed you weren’t available.” Just like that, the sun was shining and birds were singing once more. “It’s a good thing he stopped by because I gave your muffin to Sandra.”
“That’s okay. Had I known Sandra would be in today, I would’ve brought her a coffee and pastry too.”
“I know that,” Priscilla said. “You’re a damn good man. Now get out of here so we can save the school play.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, quickly retreating toward my office.
On my desk sat a bouquet of sunflowers, a cup of coffee, and a Styrofoam carryout container that filled my room with a delicious fragrance. I smelled cinnamon, butter, sugar, and yeast. I crossed to my desk and opened the container and saw the fattest, gooiest cinnamon roll I had ever seen. The icing dripping down the sides of the pastry made me think of the mess we made on Julius’s stomach. I had to steer my mind away from that image before my body started to react to it.
Beside the coffee was a message written on a Post-it note. Sorry I missed you. Available for lunch? J
I didn’t bother checking my calendar because I never scheduled appointments during my lunchtime. I checked the time and saw classes hadn’t started yet, so I typed out a quick message. Thank you for my lovely surprise. Your place or mine?
Mine.
Great. You want me to bring you lunch from the cafeteria or do you want me to run to the diner? I had a lot more freedom than Jules did.
His reply came back quick. It’s chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese day. Some things a guy just never outgrows.
I laughed at his reply. I’ll be there at eleven fifteen sharp.
I dug into my cinnamon roll while tracing a finger over the petals of my beautiful flowers, vowing not to allow ignorance to ruin my day.
“There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.”
~Friedrich Nietzsche
“There’s no logic in love, but sometimes the chaos just makes sense.”
~Julius Shepherd
The anticipation and excitement of seeing Rome again was greater than I had ever experienced before in my life which felt both strange and right at the same time. I thought it was odd I was more antsy over a simple lunch date than I was during my first solo cello performance as a kid or the first time I stood in front of a class of high school kids as their teacher. Those were moments when things could either go really good or really bad for me, and my blossoming relationship with Rome was no different. There was no way to know things wouldn’t blow up in my face, but it just felt right. I couldn’t turn back now if someone offered me money.
I gave myself a mental shake to get my head back in my classroom where it belonged. There was no room for that kind of distraction, any distraction, with twenty-five kids needing my best. I had exciting news to share with the class, and that’s where my focus was required.
“I have a special announcement to make,” I said. The students looked up from the homework assignments they’d already started. “Have any of you ever heard of the Ohio Science Olympiad hosted at The Ohio State University in August of each year?” A few students nodded but most shook their head. “It’s the state’s premier science competition that allows us to show what skills Blissville is teaching in science, technology, engineering, and math. I can only take fifteen students, and there will be twenty-three events we can compete in. I’ve coached teams in a similar competition in Philadelphia, so I’m familiar with the structure and rules. The maximum number of seniors I can take for our division is five, and I must pick the remaining members from the other three classes. Because this contest won’t be held until the next school year, this year’s seniors aren’t eligible. I truly wish I started teaching here a year earlier because you are some of the brightest, inquisitive minds I’ve taught.”
“That is a bummer,” Clara said. “I would’ve loved to compete in the Science Olympiad.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, and I wouldn’t have brought it up, but there aren’t just seniors in this class.” My classes had a mixture of seniors, juniors, sophomores, and a few freshmen.
“I hope there is more interest than there are slots because it shows how much you all love science and math. I’m going to pass around a clipboard with a signup sheet. Once I know how many people are interested, I will form a game plan.”
“Does that mean you’re going to have some kind of competition and the winners make the team?” Mark Vaughn asked.
“That’s the only fair way to do it,” I told him. “The contest will be threefold. You will submit a concept for approval; once approved, you will document the building of your project with detailed notes, photos, or videos; and the final phase will be the demonstration. I must complete the paperwork in November if we’re to take a team to the competition in August.”
“That’s a lot of planning,” Bobby said from the back row. “This must be a big deal.”
“OSU is a highly respected school in the fields of science, medicine, and engineering, Bobby. Placing well at this competition will look amazing on college applications.”
“I bet,” he replied.
“As you can imagine, this won’t be cheap, so we will try to offset some of the cost by hosting fundraisers throughout the year.”
“Not more cookie dough,” one of the boys in the far-right corner said.
“No, I thought we’d try to do something a little more entertaining, but I’m going to need school board approval.” Clara perked up in her seat, eager to help. “I will take this to the board on my own.”
“Fair enough, Mr. S.”
“I’m going to pass this clipboard around, and the only thing you’re indicating today is if you’re interested in being on the team. I will put together a packet of information to share with your parents which will include dates, costs, and the things required of you and therefore them.”
I started with the table on the far left and handed the clipboard to Mark, who eagerly wrote in his name before handing it to his partner, Daniel. I knew the boys were an inseparable duo and did almost everything together, so I wasn’t surprised when Daniel wrote his name down too before passing it to the table behind them.
I returned to my desk and started looking over the notes I’d made about the competition and ways to defer cost so the parents wouldn’t be facing a steep fee. I looked up when Bobby set the clipboard on my desk.
“Here you go, Mr. S.”
“Thanks, Bobby.”
I glanced over the list and saw every eligible student had declared their interest just like the four classes before them had. I was deliriously happy to see so many kids sign up, but that meant I was going to face a hard task of eliminating some of them. I realized it was something I couldn’t do alone and decided to ask my fellow science teachers if they wanted to help choose and coach the team.
When the bell rang, the students were quick to their feet and shuffled out the door. My pulse leapt because I knew Rome would be waiting in the hallway to enter my room. He stepped inside as soon as the last kid walked through the door. I rose to my feet, unable to stay still. My hands were suddenly damp and nervous energy buzzed through my body until he smiled at me. Then all the noise and chaos went away until it was the two of us alone in my room.
“Hi,” I said lamely.
“Hello.”
“Um,” I said, looking around. “Do you want to eat at one of the tables or scoot a chair over and eat across the desk from me?”
“We should probably keep the desk between us, Jules.” The deep timbre of his voice made me shiver. I nodded because the things I wanted to do weren’t appropriate for my classroom. “I didn’t know what kind of beverage you wanted, so I bought white, chocolate, and strawberry milk and an apple juice.”
