D. W. St. John - A Terrible Beauty

A Terrible Beauty

Smashwords Edition

2009 D.W.St.John

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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For Donna Nichols, Annabel Fish, Angus Niven, the SanJoaquin gang, and all the caring, competent teachers, secretaries,bus drivers, and custodians I have had the privilege to know.

With special thanks to Robert J. Press, ChuckAndersen, Pam Wilds, Bill Levy, and Asia.

To TEACH IS TO LEARN TWICE.

Joseph Joubert

ONE

Looking up at the old schoolhouse, really seeing itfor the first time in nearly ten years, Solange Gonsalvas wishedshe were anywhere else. Skin colored Jamaican rum, midnight hairhorsetail strait, face open and intelligent, she turned large hazeleyes upward, reading the words above the door aloud in a voice darkas the purr of a leopard ELK RIVER NORMAL SCHOOL 1911.

A dangerous wreck of a building, it should have beentorn down fifty years ago. She wished to God it had. Three nightsnow she had lain sleepless dreading this moment. Now here she was.A deep breath, a clenching of jaw, and she headed up the stairs andinside.

She found his room easily, took hold of the coldbrass knob, peered in through wavy glass. Seeing OConnel for thefirst time in two years, she let her hand fall away.

Leaning back against his desk, hard forearms foldedacross his chest, OConnel looked less like a teacher now than heever had.

His hair was longer than she remembered. He needed ashave. Gold wire rims perched absurdly far down his nose. But as hespoke to the class before him, she could see he hadnt changed, notreally, not in any way that counted. With distaste she pictured himcowering before her. She couldnt imagine him afraid and didntwant to see it. Watching him, she smiled sadly. No, he hadntchanged. It might have been easier if he had.

The bell clanged, loud in the silent hall, making herjump. Doors banged open, and screaming seventh, 8th and9th graders flooded out. Expecting his door to open likethe rest, she stood aside. It stayed shut. Solange sidled up to theglass to find his students poised like thirty sprinters on theblock, and OConnel, relaxed, finishing up. It took a certain kindteacher to keep a class from stampeding to the door at the bell, acertain kind of person.

He would be one.

He waved an arm in her direction, and they raced forthe door.

The last gone, she took a long breath, hardeningherself for what she would see, and went in.

OConnel glanced up, pressing back his glasses with asingle finger. Unperturbed, he looked at his watch, reaching widein a long, lazy stretch, and smiled his usual easy, crookedsmile.

Good morning, Ms. Gonsalvas. Youre late.

She didnt get it. Hed known she was coming anddidnt seem to mind. It didnt make sense. Shed only known herselfsince late Friday.

Forcing herself closer, she took a deep breath, headerect, leather case held protectively before her. Mr. OConnel,Im here to observe your classroom. She gave him what she hopedwas a withering look. You seem to know that. Tossing a pencarelessly onto the desk, he laced fingers behind his head, leanedback in his chair, springs squealing. So I heard. It isnt everyday a man gets a visit from an angel. She felt herself redden. Shedidnt want him calling her that.

Not himespecially not him.

The Angel of Deaththats what they called her. Atthirty, assistant superintendent of the second largest district inOregon, firing bad teachers was her job. Shed done it and done itwell, but it had cost her. Teachers shed taught with every day forfive years froze up at the sight of her now. Never having madefriends easily, now she made none at all.

Moving easily, he swept up a tattered leatherbriefcase and held the door. Time to go, my next class isupstairs. She watched him closely as she passed. If he werefrightened, he didnt show it. In the hall, he smiled over hisshoulder, entertained by her struggle to keep up.

Different from the district office, huh? Bitterly,she smiled, wrenching her bag between two boys taller than she by ahead. OConnel wasnt intimidated in the least. The bastard wasenjoying seeing her fight her way through the throng in suit andheels.

The third floor classroom was freezing. The floorgave ominously under her heel.

Dont worry, its pretty spongy in spots, butnobodys fallen through yet. He opened the cock on the radiator,setting off a cacophony of hissing and rattling from a monstrosityoffiligreed brass.

Its good you brought your jacket, youll need itfor a while yet. The third floor was quiet now. She went to standat one of the tall windows. Her eye was drawn to the timberedhorizon where mist hung in the folds of the hillsmuch too nice aview to be framed by a fly-specked window like this one. She cranedher neck to look out at the half-circle sheet-metal slide slopingdown the outside wall to the ground. Rust seeped through the latestcoat of paint at the joints, trailing to the center to run in abloody stream downward. Stomach tight, she pulled back. It was along way down.

You a fan of our fire escape? he said.

Ive never seen it from way up here, thats all. Youdont use this thing anymore, do you?

For drills, no. I slid down ten years ago on a dare.I wouldnt do it again. Its pretty shaky, bolts held by six layersof paint and force of habit. The kids use the stairs now. A smallcountry school gobbled up by a big city district, it was only amatter of time before it would be torn down and Elk Rivers kidsbussed to larger schools. The five years shed taught here had beenthe hardest of her life. The plumbing ran pumpkin soup when it ranat all. Radiators moaned and squealed like rooting hogs. Plasterdust sifted from twelve foot ceilings. When it rained, teacherscovered whatever they wanted to keep dry with tarps.

Impatiently she turned away from the window to glanceat her watch. Where are they? He went on writing on the board.Nutrition break, new thing.

Board members kid wasnt eating breakfast, so theystarted giving them ten minutes between second and third to buydoughnuts and sodas. Started the year you went downtown. He cameto the front of the lab table to fold his arms. So, hows theplace look to you now? She looked around the room. Old, run down,small. She shrugged. The same. He smiled. Cant wait to getthis over with, can you? Was she so easy to read? Why do you saythat? He shrugged. Thats the way Id feel about it. If I had anoffice waiting for me downtown, I wouldnt be able to wait to getthe hell out of here. He was going to say something more; shecould feel it. Solange had heard teachers beg. It was always theworst of them. The volleyball coach who took his girls out drinkinghad been one. She looked appraisingly at OConnel once more.

Definitely not the type to beg. What then? Look, weboth know why youre here. He disentangled one burly arm todelicately press on his glasses with a forefinger. I could giveyou a song and dance. Dont think I couldnt. I toed the line fortwenty years. I could sure as hell wear a halo for a week or two.If I did that, what would you get? Nothing. Absently she reachedup to check the top button of her blouse.

This was a new one. So, just what are yousaying?

Im offering you a week with me being my usuallovable self. This was getting really strange. Why would you helpme?

Why does anyone do anything? To get something.Revulsion passed over her in a wave. Now she understood. It wasnthappening. No deal. Dr. Merrill didnt authorize me to offer youanything. I can only go by the contract.