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“Right,” Henry says without humor. “Let’s just both work on getting out of Emerald, Ohio, alive and well, okay?”
Alive and well.
I nod and finish off my coffee. And bite my tongue on the urge to say anything about how we might be alive when we leave Ohio, but well? I don’t know about that one. There’s a very good chance that one or both of us leaves with a broken heart.
Everyone in the administration office at Emerald Public School is very nice. And very enthusiastic about me being here.Especially Amanda Brown, the principal. She tells me, “We’re just sogratefulto you for doing this,” three times in ten minutes.
It seems Henry was right when he said that they would be so happy to have a qualified substitute that they wouldn’t dig very deep into my background or story. And since I offered to donate my pay back into the fine arts fund—I don’t feel right about taking money from the school—they are even less likely to care about anything other than me showing up and keeping the kids engaged for the class periods I’m assigned to.
The few teachers I’m introduced to in the teachers’ lounge on my tour are also very nice. And eager to meet me.
Like Lily Singer, the cute, very young Spanish teacher. And Rachel Garrett, the science teacher, who looks familiar and I realize it’s because she was at the table with Hannah Lawton in the diner the day Hannah and Scarlett had their confrontation.
I notice I’m not introduced to any of the male teachers. Or any married female teachers. What a coincidence.
I’m very happy to get to Bill Emerson’s room.
Bill is a tall, husky man in his mid-fifties. He greets me with a wide smile and a firm handshake. He’s apparently been at this school for twenty-four years and loves his job.
I like the guy. He admits to liking world history best but is also an expert in US history. We chat easily about some current events in the United Kingdom and Egypt, and share our thoughts about Christian Waite, a US Senator who is apparently being groomed for a Presidential run. I refrain from telling him that my grandfather and brother both like Waite a lot and that he’s been to Cara at least once to discuss a partnership in green energy efforts. But Bill likes him and that makes me like Bill even more.
It’s clear that Bill knows his stuff and pays attention to world events and that he likes seeing I’m the same. He also seems likesomeone who really cares about the kids learning something and enjoying the material as much as possible.
“Well, I promise they’ll be a little smarter when you return.”
He chuckles. “I’m not worried about that, Professor. I expect that you can handle the lessons with no problem,” Emerson says. “But if you have any problems with any of the kids, I’m just a phone call away. I might not be up for hiking or line dancing for a while, but I can get on the phone. Or even meet you for a meal or coffee. Mrs. Brown will have your back too,” he says of the principal.
“What kind of issues might I have?”
“There’re just some big personalities in the sophomore class,” Bill says. “I assume at your level you haven’t dealt with high school kids much.”
I didn’t deal with high school kids much even when I was a high school kid. I went to high school in Cara, but while my grandfather felt strongly about us attending the public schools, nothing could take away the fact that we were royalty. Henry wasn’t a part of my life then, but there was extra security at the school, and eyes were on me all the time. I wouldn’t have had any issues with anyone in my class. Or rather, none of them would’ve had any issues with me. They wouldn’t have dared.
“Why don’t you give me a rundown on the kids?” I ask.
Bill hands over a list of sixty names. “Yeah, I think that might be a good idea. Give you an idea for what you’re getting into.”
I scan the list and see both Mariah and Greta’s names on it. I also note Leah Lawton's name.
After pointing out the “quiet but brilliant” girl, the boy with dyslexia, a couple of kids for whom English is their second language, a couple boys who simply struggle overall and compensate for it by being “little shits”, Bill points to Mariah’s name then Leah’s. “You’ll also want to watch these two.”
I try not to look more interested in those names than any of the others. “Okay.” I’ve been jotting down notes so I lean in to do so for these girls as well.
“They simply don’t like each other. It’s really as plain as that.”
“Has anything happened between the girls in class?”
Bill sighs. “Leah tries to get under Mariah's skin. She goes to the big church here in town. Mariah’s grandfather is the pastor, but her family doesn’t go to church. Leah always seems to have something to say about that.”
“In class?”
“Everywhere, it seems. Sometimes in class.”
“Is discussion about religion encouraged?” I ask. “I assume it comes up from time to time since religion has played such an important role in so many huge historical events.”
Bill nods. “Exactly. It does come up in here. And I try to encourage open conversation. Sometimes it just gets a little out of hand.”
“I appreciate the heads up.”