Page 51

Claire

F or the next week, I planned the new curriculum in the study at Summerhurst, Jenna at my side.

John and Kimmy took over my chores, and I worked day and night—not even because I had to, but because I wanted to.

A new passion had ignited in my veins. I was good at this, and for someone who’d felt useless for so much of her time in the Wasteland, I cherished that new sense of purpose.

Jenna was, predictably, a good student, and a capable assistant.

She read over the material, made suggestions, and asked insightful questions.

She told me about the children, their habits, and the learning styles she’d observed.

Together, we took on the mammoth task of cataloguing what turned out to be hundreds of books in the Lodge cellar.

Noah and Isla were kind enough to get Noah’s mother to babysit Ely so that they could help us, and that made the work go faster.

We divided the books into school books and general interest books, in the hope that one day, we could convince the council of the need for a public library .

I decided that I’d mostly help the older kids, since that was my area of expertise.

Jenna preferred working with the younger children anyway, so I assigned them to her with the assumption that I’d be training and mentoring her as we went.

Ideally, we’d have more teachers eventually, but that would require a proper schoolhouse.

After that, we tackled the various subjects, planning experiential learning lessons and field trips, such as visiting the Valley’s lumber mill.

I updated each subject as best I could, and to my surprise, Asha was even willing to consult on the science curriculum, removing outdated information and making helpful additions.

“They don’t deserve you, Claire,” she said as she made a note in the margins. “But you’ve done a great job.”

“Thanks,” I said wearily, rubbing my eyes. “It’s been good for me.”

John supported me by adding books and supplies to the community scav list, as well as trading for things we needed. By the end of the week, he’d brought me a couple boxes of books that he’d bought from other Valley residents.

I chewed my lip as I sorted through them. Next week was when I planned to begin classes.

“But what if I go to the council and they say no?” I’d asked John, back in the schoolroom.

“So, don’t go to them,” he’d replied with a shrug.

“Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. I’ll put a notice up on the community board that you’re holding lessons, and anyone who wants to can attend.

That way, you’re not forcing anything on anybody; you’re just using an unoccupied community space to offer free, voluntary classes. ”

“Won’t they just drag me out of there?”

He huffed. “They’d have to go through me first. Look, school’s been out for a long time now, and the parents are getting antsy homeschooling.

It’s already been brought up a bunch of times in meetings, but nothing’s getting done.

So, you offer their kids an education, and they’ll show up…

and once they do, it’ll be hard for the rest of them to complain about it. ”

The following Monday morning, I drummed my fingers anxiously on the teacher’s desk in the schoolroom. Jenna and I had set everything up with John’s help, and in a few minutes, we’d wait outside for people to show up .

John covered my anxious fingers with his hand. “It’ll be okay, baby. You’ll see.”

To my surprise, when I went to open the door, there was a small crowd in front of the schoolroom.

Perhaps a dozen children waited with their parents.

Sarah was there with Jake, and Isla waited beside her with Ely, who was dozing in his baby wrap.

Jenna had approached and was chatting with one of the other parents, who at least looked receptive to what she was saying.

“You’re all here for class?” I asked Sarah, who nodded, rubbing her pregnant belly.

“Jake is very excited,” she said, and as if in demonstration, the small boy next to her grinned.

“And I know Ely’s a little young for school,” Isla said with a smile, stroking her son’s small head, “but we wanted to show our support for Claire and Aunt Jenna, didn’t we, buddy?”

The baby groaned sleepily and hid his face in his mother’s breast, which made me chuckle.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely, then turned to the crowd. “Everyone’s welcome, including parents, if they’d like to stay and see our new program.”

We filed into the room, and once everyone was seated, I stood at the head of the class, while Jenna stood at the back.

We’d decided that since she liked working with the youngest children, she’d walk among the desks during the lesson and help them with anything that might be a bit advanced for their age group.

Each desk had a worksheet that John had gotten printed for me at the lumber mill, which had a small press.

Suddenly, two dozen pairs of eyes were glued to me. But I had done this before. I took a deep breath, and some part of me reawakened. I launched into the lesson with ease, quelling my nerves by glancing at John, who stood at the back of the room, watching me with a small smile of encouragement.

We started with an exercise to learn everyone’s names, which involved spelling and writing.

After that, the first lesson was a trial of some more interactive learning, which had been sorely lacking before.

I’d asked John to be present not just for support, but for a class about outriders, and more broadly, the Valley itself .

I’d drawn a map of the Valley on the blackboard in chalk. I’d consulted with John beforehand about where all the homesteads in the Valley were in relation to each other.

“Do any of you know where you live inside the Valley?”

The children’s puzzled looks didn’t worry me. They were too young to know; I just needed their best guess.

“Mama says we live in the south,” a girl called Melanie offered.

“Great,” I answered, and I marked her homestead on the map. “More specifically, Melanie, you live here . Right near the lake—I’m jealous.”

She giggled, and her father sitting next to her gave a shy smile. We went through everyone’s place on the map, introduced the concept of geography , and why it was important to know where things were.

I introduced John as an outrider, and we went over what he did and why before letting the kids ask questions.

“Is it ever boring, riding around all the time?” a little boy called Omar asked, looking skeptical. “I’d be bored.”

John grinned. “Sometimes. I play a lot of I-Spy with myself. Other times, I think about my family, who I’m protecting by doing my job. That usually helps.”

He gave me a warm glance, and a few of the kids, particularly the girls, smiled. Better yet, their parents looked a lot less wary and more engaged. It’s working.

Noon came faster than I could’ve ever predicted, and class ended.

I waited by the door as everyone filed out, and to my delight, several of the parents stopped to speak with me, praising the lesson and promising that their kids would return tomorrow.

At the end of the line was a dark-haired woman with a young son, who she sent ahead of her, out of the room, before turning to speak to me.

My stomach flipped.

“Excuse me, we haven’t formally met,” she said, extending her hand. Tentatively, I shook it. “I’m Alice Wang.”

Wang. That was one of the families that wouldn’t let Asha and me through their gate and forced us to wait outside. My guard immediately rose.

“I just wanted to apologize,” she said, making a face.

“For treating you so coldly when you first arrived. The class you just taught was great; you’re a gifted teacher.

I hope you’ll consider staying on, and if the council gives you trouble…

well, just know I’ll be supporting you. I haven’t seen Jace that engaged in school before. ”

“Oh,” I replied, a little taken aback. “Well, I appreciate your support. I hope you’ll tell the other parents about the class, so more will come.”

“I certainly will. Have a good day.”

She left me standing in surprised silence, and John walked over with a proud smile. He’d been just outside, talking to some of the parents.

“Told you,” he said in a low voice. “You’re a superstar.”

I laughed. “I don’t know about that, but at least it seems to have softened my image a bit.”

“You are,” he insisted. “Finally seeing you up there? I get it. You’re sweet, and knowledgeable, and kind. You hold the room, but not in a commanding way; your authority comes from how well you come across. Like you’ve been doing it forever.”

I shrugged. “I mean, before a year ago, this was what I did every day for four years. It’s like muscle memory. I just know what to do.”

He nodded. “Not gonna lie, it was kind of sexy, too.”

I endured another full-blown belly laugh. “Now you’re just being silly.”

“Nothing silly about a woman in charge,” John replied with a flirtatious smile. “Can’t wait to see you do it all again.”

Weeks passed, and every day, more kids showed up for class, even from families who’d been more than a little reluctant to accept me.

Their desire for their children to be educated—and realistically, safely out of the house for a few hours every day—overrode their suspicion and dislike in the end, especially because they usually stayed for the first lesson.

More and more, the children opened up and enjoyed learning.

Without regular school, they’d been criminally understimulated and ultimately, bored.

They ate up the lessons I planned and asked for more, and I was happy to oblige.

They were intelligent, and sweet, and unusually well-behaved compared to compound kids, likely because they’d been doing disciplined farm work almost since birth.

Over a few weeks, I’d grown fond of all of them, and perhaps the most surprising thing of all was that the feeling seemed mutual.

I painted a mural on the back wall of the schoolroom, recreating a more elaborate version of the map of the Valley that I’d drawn on the chalkboard.

I kept it cartoonish and fun, with little pictures of the farmhouse at each homestead in its place on the map.

I let the kids write their family names beneath each house, adding a personal touch to it, which they loved.

There were a few naysayers who showed up to essentially heckle us, but Jenna insisted on dealing with them.

Firecracker that she was, she told them quite plainly where they could stick their complaints.

Nevertheless, I knew a reckoning must be coming, and on one morning in early April, the elder Jameson was waiting in front of the schoolroom door when I opened it to invite the class inside.

Heedless of the crowd of children and parents behind him, he started talking before I’d even greeted him.

“You’ve been running an unauthorized school program, never approved by the council,” he said firmly.

“You are not a qualified teacher, and this is not a real class. You’ve appropriated our schoolroom for illegal purposes.

You’ll stop now, or you’ll jeopardize your probationary status in this community. ”

I could’ve heard a pin drop with how quiet it got.

“If it’s illegal, where’s Danny?” Jenna asked, crossing her arms. “Have him arrest us. Me, too, since I’ve been just as much a part of this as Claire has.”

“This is not your concern, child,” Jameson spit back. “You are not an outsider.”

“He’s not here,” Jenna continued, growing louder, “because there is nothing illegal about what we’re doing.

We’ve never claimed to be an official school program; this is a voluntary program that anyone is free to attend or not.

And I didn’t realize that things only became illegal when outsiders did them.

I can’t say I remember my brother ever telling me that. ”

Jameson stared at her coldly. “It may not be illegal, but it violates the spirit of having a council to decide how our children should be educated. ”

I found my voice. “With all due respect, your decision so far has been to not educate them. So, you’ll forgive me for finding a solution to a problem that so far, your council has been unwilling or unable to solve.”

He looked like I’d hit him. “You clearly don’t know your place, outsider.”

“She does,” Alice Wang said from the crowd, looking stern. “It’s right here, where she’s earned the trust of our kids. If you have a problem with that, you can call a council meeting, like anybody else. But I think everyone here will vote against you.”

There was a murmur of assent from the crowd, and my heart felt fit to burst. I’d earned their respect at last. I was being accepted, trusted, and finally, useful .

I could’ve cried with joy and relief, but I managed to hold it together as Jameson shot me a venomous look and stalked away, muttering to himself.

“Okay, that was awesome,” Jenna murmured to me as we filed into the classroom. “Claire, you have balls! I was wondering when I’d see you stick up for yourself at last.”

I smiled. “Turns out that I have something to fight for after all.”