by Dave Cravens
The phone did not respond to Parker’s quiet pleas. Only the faint hum of the refrigerator circulated through the main floor of the house.
Please? Pretty, pretty please?
Bed time with the kids had proved to be as miserable as ever. Maddy wouldn’t speak or say good night. Ally passed out. Drew wanted to go to bed early. Even Valerie looked too tired to pass judgement on any of Parker’s antics.
I’m not crazy. Something weird is going on at that school. And it’s not good.
A bright white light suddenly beamed from the phone, prompting Parker to sit up and take notice. Parker watched anxiously as her phone went through a long arduous booting sequence, until it finally displayed the home screen she so sorely missed. “Yes!” Parker pumped her fist into the air. “Hell yes!”
After regaining a signal, the phone vibrated to life with a litany of text messages she’d missed throughout the day that rolled in all at once. Parker held her phone, scanning and scrolling through the alerts. Sheriff Bill tried to call her several times, followed by more texts asking if she was there and why she wasn’t responding. There were a few from Julie asking if she’d heard about Heller. Even a message from her old editor, Jerry, insisting that Parker get over herself and call him back sometime.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” said Parker, kissing and hugging her phone. Parker noticed the battery was only charged at 2% and didn’t dare unplug it. Having checked the last of her email accounts, Parker gently laid her phone back down. “You get some rest, old friend. I’m going to go make us some tea. Then, we’ll play a nice game of Emoji Blitz together.”
Parker turned to walk into the kitchen, when her phone buzzed again. Another text had just come through.
Parker tilted her head and stared at her phone out of the corner of her eye. It was nearly midnight. Who would be texting? Parker picked her phone up and found the following message.
Do you feel guilty yet?
Parker blinked. The name at the top of the screen read as Old Yeller Heller – the label Parker had given to Karen Heller when she had saved her number in her phone the night before.
“Fuck me.” Parker snatched her phone off the table and typed a response.
Everyone was looking for you today. Where have you been?
Parker’s heart thumped as she waited for Heller’s answer.
Finally, her phone buzzed again.
Don’t pretend you are concerned.
Parker winced. Something was off about the response. She typed again.
Why did you call me last night?
The phone buzzed.
I’ll explain everything tomorrow.
Parker frowned. Karen Heller was a conniving witch, but cryptic texting seemed to be a stretch even for her. Either this was a completely new side of Karen Heller, or it wasn’t Karen Heller at all.
The phone buzzed a final time.
Sleep tight.
44.
Parker kept her mouth shut the following morning…
for fear she might involuntarily blurt out details of her late-night text-a-pade with Heller. Parker glided through her morning routines with an eerie calm, affording her children extra space to ready themselves for school. The experiment appeared to confound both Drew and Maddy, who dressed and packed their bags with unusual care as though they feared they might have entered some sort of twisted parent trap. Was Drew’s hair perfect? No. Did Maddy’s outfit match? Hardly. Was anyone’s homework even finished? Parker wasn’t even going to tempt fate by asking this particular morning. Only one question raced over and over through her mind: How would Karen Heller explain her absence when she finally returned to school?
But when Parker reached for the car keys on the kitchen counter, only to have Valerie step in front of her, she knew there was no fooling her mother. “What’s going on with you?” asked Valerie.
Parker batted her eyes and forced a smile. “Why, whatever do you mean, mother?”
“You’re never this quiet. And I know you just saw Ally pour cereal in her pants.”
Shit. How did I miss that? Parker played coy as she looked over at Ally swinging her legs at the table with a bowl of cereal resting upside down on her crotch. “There are some clean pants in the dryer.”
“You want me to clean it up?”
“I’ve got a meeting at school. I was hoping you could watch Ally today.”
Valerie folded her arms. “All day?”
“It’s a long meeting.”
“Uh huh,” Valerie didn’t bother pretending to sound convinced. “What’s really going on?”
“Nothing,” Parker lied. She angled slightly to shout past her mother. “Drew! Maddy! Let’s go!”
Valerie followed her daughter and two grandchildren out the front door. “I know you all too well, Parker, and you’ve got that look in your eye like you’re up to—” Valerie stopped dead in her tracks at the top of the driveway. “Is that?” She gasped with a smile. “Is that a minivan?”
Parker hung her head, having forgotten about her rental wheels. She pressed her key fob to unlock the car. “It’s a temporary arrangement.”
“But you hate minivans!” Drew chuckled as he slid open the side door.
“It’s a rental. We’re not keeping it. Just get in the damn car.”
Valerie patted Parker on the back, relieved she felt she’d discovered Parker’s big morning secret. “Well, I applaud your sensible choice.”
“I didn’t have a choice, Mom, it’s all the car place had.” Parker hopped into the driver’s seat as Maddy climbed into the passenger side. “We’ll chat later. Off to school, now! Ta ta!” Parker waved goodbye as she revved the minivan in reverse.
For the first time since school had started, dropping the kids off proved to be a perfectly average portrait of nothing in particular. Either no crazy parents tried to cut in the car line, jump the curb, park in the handicapped spaces when they shouldn’t, or Parker simply didn’t notice them. Maddy offered her mother the usual soft but detached preteen “bye” that could be interpreted as anything from “I’m still mad at you” to “my life sucks” or on rare occasion -- “goodbye.” Drew gave his mom a happy squeeze and bolted out of the car after his sister. That left Parker to find a parking space on the street just outside of school, and march straight to the front office of the school as the final bell rang for class.
As Parker entered the lobby, there was no sign of Heller or Mendez. Their office door was closed. The Silver Fox typed madly away at her computer, pretending not to notice Parker as she approached her desk.
Why is she always typing? “I’d like to speak with Vice Principal Heller,” announced Parker.
Silver Fox continued to type away without so much a glance at Parker. “Principal Heller is not in right now,” the Fox declared.
Parker squinted to better examine Fox’s poker face. “But Vice Principal Heller’s coming in today, right?” Parker tapped her fingers on the top of Fox’s computer monitor.
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Well, she sent me a text last night saying she’d be in.”
Fox’s fingers froze over her keyboard. She slowly looked up at Parker. “She—texted you?”
Parker nodded quietly in an attempt to prolong Fox’s discomfort. “I’m going to be around working on PTA stuff. Can you have her contact me when she gets in?” Parker lifted her phone displaying the text she’d gotten from Heller. “She has my number. Because, you know, she texted me.”
Fox drew a frosty breath. “Then why don’t you just text her yourself?”
Parker’s nodding eased to a halt. “Good point,” she said. Parker had never succeeded in getting a hold of Heller when she initiated the contact, but she found the Silver Fox’s reaction most interesting. Either Fox was jealous of Parker’s communication with Heller or baffled by it. Parker’s thumbs stabbed at her phone’s display. “Look at me, I’m texting her right now.”
What time will you be at school today? We need to chat.
Parker hit the send button.
The Silver Fox rested her chin on her palms. “Hmm. No reply?”
Parker’s lips parted into a forced smile. Something tells me you might know the reason why. Parker was about to ask Fox another question when her phone suddenly buzzed. Fox and Parker looked at each other in surprise. Parker turned her phone over to read the response from Heller’s number.
Soon.
“Was that – her?” asked Fox.
You seem genuinely surprised by this. “Yes,” answered Parker. “She says, she’ll be here soon.”
Fox smiled. “Well then, there’s nothing to worry about, is there?” As if catching herself expressing some form of forbidden emotion, the Silver Fox straightened her posture, erased her smile and began to type again.
Parker leaned forward. “Were you worried?”
Fox’s typing slowed as she formulated her response. “She was missing, Ms. Monroe. I’m just glad to hear Principal Heller’s okay.”
Vice Principal. “Of course.” Parker sighed. “I’m going to wait here since she’s on her way.”
“Mmm, hmm.”
Parker took a seat in one of the chairs along the office wall. But after thirty minutes of Candy Crush, Heller still was a no show.
45.
Are you still coming?
Where are you?
Hello?
Parker sighed as she sent another barrage of texts to Heller that failed to earn any response. She’d wasted an hour of her time waiting in that front lobby.
Either she’s fucking with me, or someone’s fucking with her.
Even the Silver Fox appeared curious enough to check in with Parker every ten minutes. “This isn’t like Heller to do this,” informed Fox.
Parker bit her lip as the Principal’s office door finally swung open. Out stepped Mendez, carrying a slim document folder. Parker couldn’t help but frown in bitter awe at how Mendez managed to make a boring colored beige suit look amazing on her athletic body. Just once I’d like to see her slum it in sweat pants and some ratty t-shirt from a really crappy band -- like Foo Fighters. The young Latino woman paused as she caught Parker’s gaze. “Ms. Monroe,” she greeted coolly with an arch of one brow. “You’re here. In my lobby. Again.”
“I’m waiting for Heller,” explained Parker. “She said she would meet with me today.”
“Oh,” Mendez grimaced. “I wasn’t aware she was coming in.” Mendez handed her folder to Fox. “Did she say when she would be in?”
Just then, Parker’s phone buzzed to life.
Soon.
Parker looked around the lobby. Fox’s hands were off her own keyboard as if Parker’s phone buzzing had mesmerized her. “Was that her?” asked Fox.
“She says she’ll be here soon.” Again. Either the timing of the text was a coincidence or Parker was being watched. Parker scanned Mendez’s hands, neither of which carried a phone.
Mendez sighed. “Then you should come back when Heller arrives.”
Tired of the runaround, Parker threw up her arms. “Come on, you’re not at all curious that your Vice Principal has been missing?”
“Missing?” Mendez pointed to Parker’s phone. “You mean the woman who just texted you saying she was coming in?”
“I just think it odd, that no one knows where she’s been.”
“Do you know where I was last night, Ms. Monroe?” Mendez challenged.
“No. Where were you last night?”
Mendez folded her arms. “I’m not telling you, because it’s none of your business.”
I walked right into that one.
“Now, as a former journalist I know you have an uncontrollable need to ask lots of questions, but I can’t have parents waiting around in my lobby all day. It’s a distraction and a liability. So, please, leave and come back. I’m sure Heller will text you when she arrives.”
I wouldn’t bet on that.
Parker’s mind raced for a counter punch to the landmine of common sense Mendez threw down. Parker didn’t want to admit that if she left, she feared she would miss an opportunity catch Heller in the act – of what she wasn’t sure. That was, of course, if Heller bothered to show at all. Something was completely wrong with how all of this was unfolding, and it ate at Parker’s soul.
Finally, the front glass door to the lobby opened, giving Parker the save she needed.
46.
“Holly!” Parker greeted the PTA President so enthusiastically it frightened her.
“You showed! Finally!”
A wide-eyed Holly nearly stumbled with the stack of boxes she carried into the school’s lobby. “Oh, hello! Ms. Monroe?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot our meeting too!” Parker scurried to relieve Holly of one of her boxes.
Holly smiled, glad that Parker had taken some of the weight off her arms, but greatly confused. “I’m sorry, were – were we meeting today?”
“Uh, yeah!”
Mendez turned up her nose. “I thought you were meeting with Heller.”
“Heller, Holly and I were going to put our heads together about the fundraiser,” Parker lied.
“Wow, I’m so sorry, I’d entirely forgotten about that!” Holly apologized. Her eye began to twitch.
“So, see, there’s a good reason for me to stick around!” stated Parker. “Because PTA. Because fundraiser. Because stuff!”
Mendez’s eyes narrowed like a hawk. “Fine. Then please confine your activities to the PTA office.”
“You’ve got an office?” Parker feigned excitement. “Of course, you’ve got an office, you’re the President!”
“It’s really more of a storage room,” Holly sheepishly explained.
“I’m sure it’s fine. Why don’t I help you with all this shit?” Parker used the box she carried to nudge Holly out the hallway before Mendez could insist she leave again.
The women travelled several halls deep into the labyrinth of the elementary school. Their journey ended at a single door that opened to a small windowless box of a room, making the PTA office more of a storage closet than a storage room. After depositing the boxes onto a pile of yet more boxes, Parker and Holly found themselves sitting across from each other at a small, square folding card table under the dim single light bulb that hung from the ceiling on a string. They were surrounded by piles of art supplies, papers, forms and a patchwork of various kiosks, one of which would rattle occasionally on its suggesting some small critter might be nesting there.
Over the next forty minutes, Parker did her best to feign interest while listening to Holly’s laundry list of concerns over having so many different fundraisers. But Parker’s incessant toe tapping and habitual phone checking finally broke Holly’s concentration.
“Should we meet some other time, Ms. Monroe?” Holly asked politely. “You appear rather distracted.”
Parker immediately ceased her tapping. “I’m sorry. I’m just wondering when Heller is actually going to show up.” Parker noticed Holly’s eye twitch start up again. “I mean, we can’t get very far without her, you know, blessing.”
“Of course, of course,” Holly agreed. She drew a deep breath and became very silent. Her eye twitch stopped. Then, in the next breath, her lips tightened into a trembling pout. Her body shook.
“Holly?”
Holly shuttered as she broke down into an uncontrollable sob.
“Oh, wow. Feelings.” Parker’s stomach twisted into knots. Anger, hubris and pride were the feelings she was used to dealing with in her co-workers. But strange crying adults who weren’t part of an article she was writing made her uncomfortable as all hell. “Um, Holly, are you alright?” Stupid question. “I mean, you’re here. Crying. I’m – also here. Is there something I can help you with?” To make you stop crying? Because it’s freaking me out.
“I’m sorry,” Holly blubbered. She reached for a tissue in her purse. “I’m sorry, I’m just so – the pressure – there’s a lot to do, you know? There’s a lot to figure out,
and no offense, but this new fundraiser—I’m just not sure how we’re going to get it all done!”
Parker nodded. “Oh, Holly, don’t worry! I told you, I can handle the music fundraiser. It’s why I joined the PTA in the first place.”
Holly blew her nose into a tissue. “That may be, Ms. Monroe, but I’m afraid it may detract from our other fundraisers. The more money people give to yours, the less they give to others. There’s only so much money in this town. Parents get really sore when you keep asking them for so many donations all year around.”
Parker’s phone buzzed again. She glanced at her screen out of the corner of her eye, trying not to bring Holly’s attention to it.
Soon.
Parker hated the fact each time her phone buzzed it put her on edge. What the hell am I doing? Heller’s being an ass-hat with her texting game while Holly is all broken up just trying to do the right thing for the school. She’s got the real problems and needs real help.
“Was that – Heller?” asked Holly, trying to hold back another bout of sobbing.
Parker turned her phone over. “It’s not important,” she said. “Holly, I want to apologize. I didn’t mean for the music fundraiser to complicate things so much. Especially for you. No one seems to care more about this school than you do.”
Holly looked up from her tissue. She smiled. “Thank you.”
“How many other fundraisers do you have?”
“We have a paint-a-thon for our art programs, a raffle ticket drawing for new playground equipment,” Holly’s voice drifted off as she counted a total of eight different fundraisers over the course of the year. “And now we have yours.”
“That sounds like a real cluster.”
“Cluster?”
“A cluster fuck.” Parker shook her head at Holly’s empty wide eyes, forcing her to translate. “It’s bad.”
Holly’s eyes welled up again.
“But!” Parker raised her index finger in an attempt to break Holly’s emotional roller coaster ride. “What if we put some of them together? Into one, super big fundraiser?”