Story Time

by Edward Bloor

  "Yes. If you can find him."

  "That's a mean thing to say," Kate snarled.

  "No, Kate. That is the truth. George told you the truth the other night, and you didn't like it. Remember? He said, 'What's done is done.'"

  "Great. Thanks for the reminder. I didn't know you were listening."

  June sighed. "I am listening, Kate. I want you to talk to me. I want to talk to you."

  Kate tried another approach. "All right. Talk to me about my father."

  "What do you want to know?"

  "Everything."

  June set her fork down. "All right. Here is the story about your father: He wanted to get married; we got married. The minister gave us a Certificate of Marriage. He wanted to have a baby; we had you. The doctor gave us a Certificate of Live Birth. Then he wanted to get divorced; we got divorced. The lawyer gave me a Certificate of Dissolution of Marriage.

  "I put the papers in a safe-deposit box at the King's County Savings and Loan. They all look basically the same."

  After a long pause, Kate asked, "That's it? That's the story of my father?"

  "Yes."

  Kate exhaled a long breath of air. "I am going upstairs now. I am going to write a letter to my father asking for his help. I am also going to ask if I can go live with him."

  "I understand why you might want to do that. And I wish you well."

  "Do you?"

  "Yes." Then June added, as kindly as she could, "But don't get your hopes up."

  Kate laughed ruefully. "I don't think you need to worry about that."

  15. Alpha Brain Wave Time

  By Thursday both Kate and George had established their positions in the Whittaker Magnet School student hierarchy. In each of their classes, George sat in the first seat in the first row, and Kate sat in the last seat in the last row.

  As Kate settled into her third-period reading class, she was surprised to notice a decoration on the wall. Someone had taped a Folger Shakespeare Library poster on the cement blocks next to her. Before she could read it, however, she heard the rolling refrigerator clatter to a halt outside.

  Dr. Austin entered, and his gaze fell immediately on the poster. "Here is a question for your teacher: If information is not tested in any of the fifty United States, is there any reason for a United States student to learn it?"

  Reading 8, a forty-year-old man with a salt-and-pepper beard, stood very still by the chalkboard.

  Dr. Austin approached him slowly, asking, and answering, in his predatory voice, "Can you cite for me one example of a question about Shakespeare on a state test? No? What about a county test? A district test? No, no, and no again."

  Reading 8 blinked rapidly and nodded in complete agreement. He broke away from his spot, hurried to the back, and ripped down the offending poster.

  But it did him no good. Dr. Austin said, "You can take that with you. You are fired."

  Kate watched Reading 8, or whatever his name now was, redden with humiliation. He rolled his wrinkled poster up, hung his head, and walked out of the classroom.

  Dr. Austin then turned to the students. "What I just did, I did for you. Whittaker is your school as well as mine. We are all in this together. One mediocre teacher can undermine the efforts of eleven others. One mediocre student can undermine the efforts of one hundred ninety-one others.

  "I cannot do this alone. I will root out the underachieving teachers, but it is up to you to tell underachieving students to get to work; to try harder; to stop pulling your class average down."

  Dr. Austin walked to the teacher's bulletin board and studied the test scores from the day before. He shook his head sadly and muttered, "Tsk, tsk, tsk." Then he shouted, "Mrs. Hodges!" and the door flew open.

  The black-clad Mrs. Hodges shot to the bulletin board like a clump of iron filings to a magnet. Her hawkish face followed Dr. Austin's finger down the list as he pointed out certain scores. She counseled, "Ginkoba capsules, five hundred milligrams," for one; "Siberian ginseng root," for another.

  Mrs. Hodges exited just as rapidly and yelled instructions at someone in the hallway.

  Pogo entered the classroom, her eyes averted, carrying a twelve-ounce plastic cup. The cup had the name KATE PETERS written in large block letters around its perimeter. Pogo walked back to Kate and handed it to her, whispering:

  "Sippity sup, sippity sup.

  Sippity, sippity sup."

  Everyone watched while Kate stared at the vile-smelling liquid. Then she pinched her nose, raised the cup, and took the smallest possible sip. Her whole body, from head to feet, wriggled like an electric eel. Kate exhaled loudly, trying desperately to expel the foul taste from her mouth.

  Dr. Austin cast his gaze over the rest of the class as he addressed Kate. "There, there. You'll get used to it."

  Kate looked up at the Mushroom Children. To her surprise, she saw only sympathy in their eyes. Then, as her classmates watched, Kate took a breath and bravely chugged the contents of the cup.

  Dr. Austin then called out, "William Anderson." The large boy next to Kate raised his hand. Mrs. Hodges entered with a green canister marked OXYGEN. She spotted the boy and rolled it toward him. She then produced a clear plastic mask and attached it to his face with a rubber band.

  Dr. Austin said, "A few minutes of pure oxygen will awaken your sleeping faculties, William."

  Kate handed her cup back to Pogo, believing that her torment was over, but she was wrong. "Kate Peters, come up here," Dr. Austin said. "Mrs. Hodges, prepare her for the treadmill."

  Mrs. Hodges snapped, "Pogo!" and Pogo hurried back outside. While she was gone, Mrs. Hodges attached a sticky round patch to each side of Kate's neck; then she connected the patches to a set of long wires.

  Pogo returned with a truck dolly bearing a large contraption that, when set up, became a health-club-quality treadmill. Mrs. Hodges plugged Kate's wires into outlets on the control panel. She turned to Dr. Austin, gave him a thumbs-up sign, and started the motor.

  "Surely you slept through yesterday's test." Dr. Austin held up a student booklet. "A few minutes on the treadmill will certainly improve this abysmal reading score."

  The treadmill began to pick up speed. Kate struggled to keep pace. Everyone in the room, including the aspirating William Anderson, was again staring at her. Soon the machine was humming along at five miles per hour, and Kate was running for her life.

  Dr. Austin checked his watch sporadically until three minutes had passed. Then he indicated to Mrs. Hodges that she should turn off the oxygen canister. After another minute, he walked around to the control panel to monitor its readings. When Kate's heart and respiration rates were to his liking, he pressed the stop button and announced, "Excellent. That will do." Kate grasped the handrails to keep herself from being catapulted off the treadmill. "You have reached alpha brain wave time. That is the optimal time to start testing."

  Mrs. Hodges ripped off the sticky patches and pushed Kate toward her seat. Kate had to steady herself against the desks on her way there. As she plopped down, William Anderson turned to her and whispered, "Come on, Kate. We have to do better."

  Kate rallied her strength enough to whisper back to him, "No. Actually, we don't."

  William Anderson's bright oxygenated eyes stared at her in amazement.

  Kate did not even notice when the new teacher materialized. But there she was, standing before the class, dressed for the job and ready to go. As Dr. Austin, Mrs. Hodges, and Pogo packed up and moved on, the new Reading 8 passed out copies of The Georgia Reading Proficiency Assessment. Kate could only stare at her booklet, overcome by a combination of exhaustion, humiliation, and Ginkoba.

  Before Kate's fourth-period class began, Science 8, a short bald man, read a note aloud. "Science class today will be preempted for a special meeting in the County Commission Room. All Whittaker students will be privileged to hear a legal brief presented by Cornell Whittaker 'Whit' Austin to representatives of the Stanford Law School."

  Kate studied her classmates'
feces as they filed out into the hallway. Under the fluorescent lights, they all exhibited a green tint. Kate expected the tint to vanish once they entered the lobby, but it didn't. They rode up together on Elevator #1, a glass jar full of Mushroom Children.

  As soon as she entered the County Commission Room, Kate felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She looked around to see why. Whit was again staring at her from his perch on the dais. He was sitting to the right of Cornelia, who was wearing a padded cervical collar around her neck.

  Once the last student was seated, Whit rose and began. "I speak to you today on a sad occasion for all residents of King's County. My own mother, Mrs. Cornelia Whittaker-Austin, the granddaughter of the benefactor of this great library, was assaulted on this very property.

  "The said Mrs. Cornelia Whittaker-Austin was attacked in broad daylight, in front of witnesses. She was attempting to leave these premises in her motor vehicle when the criminal leaped out of the shadows and unlawfully restrained her from leaving. The offense can clearly be identified as false imprisonment, which, I need not remind our distinguished visitors from the Stanford Law School, is the tort, or wrongful civil action, of unlawfully restraining another person.

  "The initial tort was then compounded when the criminal, by his unlawful act, damaged the motor vehicle, causing extensive repairs and lost time to the same Mrs. Cornelia Whittaker-Austin."

  Suddenly, Kate could not listen to any more of Whit. She felt a surge of herbal supplements rising in her throat, about to spew out. She leaped to her feet and ran to the door, regardless of who might try to stop her.

  No one did.

  Kate staggered down the hallway, unsteady on her feet, until a strong hand cupped her under the right elbow. The hand guided her toward the stairwell.

  It was Pogo's hand.

  Pogo led Kate step by step, up to the roof exit, and out into the fresh air.

  Kate breathed in and out deeply until her nausea passed. Then she straightened herself and looked around. A large wooden stage, nearly completed, stood just to her left. Scattered remnants of construction tarps, lumber, and wire lay to her right. Pogo gestured outward with both arms, encompassing it all. Then, to Kate's amazement, she produced a wrench from beneath her black dress.

  Pogo indicated that Kate should follow her. She led the way to an air-conditioning vent, creeping up on it as stealthily as a cat The vent was shaped like a mushroom cap, two feet high and two feet in circumference.

  Pogo crouched down, loosened two bolts, and bent the metal cap backward. Kate leaned over and peered down. She saw the top rung of a ladder; the rest was but a dark hole.

  Pogo bounced and nodded eagerly, and motioned for her to climb down. Kate hesitated. She looked into Pogo's eyes, dying to decide whether to trust this mute, mysterious woman. She saw only childlike eagerness looking back After a quick mind-clearing shake of her head, Kate slid herself feetfirst into the hole.

  Kate descended eight rungs in the darkness before she felt a floor beneath her feet. Pogo closed the metal cap and descended behind her. After some scraping around, Pogo turned on a battery-powered lantern, and a dim green light filled the space.

  Pogo pushed on a wall directly behind them. It spun open on a hinge, and Kate gasped. She wanted to shout out, "A secret passage!" but she kept as silent as her guide. Then she followed Pogo through the wall.

  16. The Secret Room

  Pogo shone the light on a narrow space, two feet wide, bounded by a low bookcase. Beyond lay what looked like an office, one that had not been used in many years.

  Against the right wall lay an antique wooden desk and chair. The office had no windows, but air from the rooftop blew in and out through a hinged wall flap behind the chair.

  The room's middle space was taken up by a magnificent floor-to-ceiling bookcase. Its shelves were filled with leather-bound volumes, photos, and other papers.

  To the left lay a wooden trunk and a short, square machine made of metal and glass. Kate could make out the words HOLOGRAPHIC SCANNER on its side.

  Pogo led Kate into the center of the room. She held the lantern up to the books so that Kate could read the tides: The History of Spiritualism, Volumes I and II, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; The Works ofAleister Crowley; The Key to Theosophy, by Madame H. P. Blavatsky.

  Pogo pointed to a leather-bound volume with no tide. Kate opened it and saw the handwritten words "The Diary of Cornell Whittaker II." She scanned it and whispered, "Wow. This guy really thought he was important. He recorded every meal he ever ate; what time he got up and went to bed; everything."

  Pogo whispered back to her:

  "One misty, moisty morning,

  When cloudy was the weather,

  I chanced to meet an old man

  Clothed all in leather."

  Kate returned the diary. She bent to read the initials on the old trunk. Pogo moved the lantern closer so that she could see CWII.

  Kate then turned to the Holographic Scanner. It resembled a supermarket checkout scanner. Two books were sitting on top of its glass face—an old edition of The Three Billy Goats Gruff and an even older edition of Mother Goose.

  Kate slid the books aside and saw that a bronze plaque had been affixed to the face of the scanner: ASHLEYNICOLE SINGER-WRIGHT, SIXTH-GRADE SCIENCE WINNER.

  Pogo whispered:

  "Little Polly Flinders

  Sat among the cinders,

  Warming her pretty little toes."

  Just then, Kate and Pogo were startled by the sound of a door opening. Pogo killed the lantern light, and they scurried back behind the bookcase.

  They heard a rhythmic, metallic sound, like a suit of armor approaching. A wooden bookcase on the left wall started to move, rotating on a hinge. Kate thought, Another secret passage! One from the front, and one from the back!

  Susan Singer-Wright entered, her metal jewelry clinking. She turned on an overhead light, causing Pogo and Kate to cower even deeper into the shadows. Then she sat in the chair next to the opening-and-closing air flap and lit a cigarette.

  At that very moment, eight floors below, June was attempting to enter the building. She tried inching her way along the wall of the entrance, but she soon froze, unable to move any farther. She looked, to any outside observer, like a lost soul inside the Andrew Carnegie in Hell mosaic.

  George spotted her while walking three of the Juku Warriors back to their parents. He delivered his charges and then hurried back to the mosaic. June had not moved. He took her by the elbow and whispered, "Take one step at a time, June. You can do it."

  June answered through clenched teeth, in a high voice, like a bad ventriloquist. "I don't know. I thought I could. But now, I don't know."

  "You've done it before, June. It's just the Whittaker Library. That's all."

  "I-I'm scared."

  "To tell you the truth, I'm scared of this place, too. But I know I shouldn't be. It's an irrational fear." George applied some gentle pressure to the elbow. "If we both take it one step at a time, like this, I'm sure we'll see that there's nothing at all to be scared of."

  George helped his sister move forward, through the glass doors and into the lobby. June grew calmer and more assured with each step, until she and George were both jolted by Cornelia's booming voice. "There you are! I've been looking all over the building for you!"

  Cornelia glared down at the pair. George, assuming that he was the object of her anger, began to stammer, "I was—"

  But Cornelia directed a long manicured finger at June. "You! Dr. Austin will be making several important announcements today during Heidi's Story Time performance. You are to be standing in the lobby with this." She thrust forward a white envelope, which June took in hand. "This envelope contains today's test results."

  June nodded stiffly.

  "Dr. Austin will signal you, like so, during the Story Time." Cornelia demonstrated a hand gesture similar to the applause signal.

  "Upon receiving this signal, you will walk up to Dr. Austin and hand him t
he envelope. Do you understand?"

  June squeaked, "Yes," in her ventriloquist voice.

  "Afterward there will be a very short audition up on the eighth floor. I doubt that anyone but Heidi will show up for it. She will be reading from my book Orchid the Orca. You can stick around and clean up after that."

  By this time, Susan Singer-Wright had finished smoking two cigarettes, turned out the lights, and vacated the secret room. Pogo turned the green lantern on and led Kate back out through the mushroom cap.

  Kate rode down alone in the service elevator and walked out into the lobby. She already knew her work assignments for the day. First she visited the children's bookshelves and located a copy of Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? Then she walked into the office, thumbed through the phonics file drawer, and pulled out a copy of the b-sound worksheet. She was standing at the photocopy machine when she heard the distinctive sound of someone retching on the other side of the wall, in the ladies' room.

  A moment later, the door opened and June walked out. Kate felt a pang of sympathy for her mother. She wanted to ask June what was wrong, but she hesitated, and the moment was lost. Kate and June simply stared at each other in great discomfort until the copier finished its job. She scooped up her phonics worksheets and hurried out without saying anything.

  Kate received another unpleasant surprise seconds later when she delivered the book and the worksheets. She saw her uncle George, looking eager to please, sitting at the desk with Heidi.

  Heidi was explaining, "I will only select one or two students to be my research assistants, the crème de la crème as it were. I'll let you know if you qualify."

  George thanked her politely and got up. He locked eyes with Kate and instantly flushed red with shame. Kate set down the Brown Bear book and the phonics worksheets. She stared at her uncle, for the first time ever, with deep disappointment.

  ***

  Over in a cleared-out area of the lobby, parents and children were gathering for Heidi's performance.