Applause ensued. For the first time, Lindsey looked at Rick. She mouthed, I’m sorry. She left the podium, grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair, and left the library, people stepping aside to let her through.
Gwen observed Rick watching Lindsey as she walked away. Gwen felt envious of the love they’d shared. She couldn’t help but think of her soon-to-be-ex, Brian. If he’d never done what he did, she wouldn’t be here right now.
Would Caleb still be alive?
CHAPTER 124
Rick and the Vote
Rick couldn’t even look at her. He gritted his teeth as Ashlee Miles told her sob story.
“I lost my friends because of this. I’ve been bullied,” Ashlee said, sniffling, looking at the school board but avoiding her mother’s gaze. “But I’m telling the truth. Those pictures don’t tell the whole story. Mr. Barnett invited me over. He told me his ex-wife, Lindsey, was gonna be there, and she wanted to see me. She used to teach me piano. We were really close. But, when I got there, she wasn’t there. Mr. Barnett told me that she was running late. Then he told me how pretty he thinks I am, and he tried to kiss me. I was afraid, so I tried to laugh it off. He gave me a picture of him with his shirt off and asked if I thought he was hot. I told him that he was too old. I thought maybe that might help him to cop a clue, but it didn’t. He said he needed a shower, and he even asked me to join him. Gross.” Ashlee twisted her face in disgust.
“I didn’t know what to do. I still wanted to see Lindsey, so I waited. After Mr. Barnett got out of the shower, he grabbed me, and I ran for the door. I opened the door to get out, and he grabbed me again and kissed me, but someone was there and took our picture. He must’ve seen the person because he pushed me away and slammed the door in my face. I saw someone running away, but I don’t know who took the pictures. Those pictures don’t show what really happened though.” Ashlee took a deep breath and surveyed the crowd. “I have a picture that’ll prove what I’m saying is true.” She reached into her jacket pocket, removed a photograph, and held it up to the audience and the school board.
Rick recognized the photo immediately. It was the one she’d taken from his house that pictured him after football practice, filthy and shirtless, standing with two of his college teammates.
“Ashlee, can you please bring that photo here?” Cliff asked.
Ashlee approached the stocky man, handing him the photo.
He studied the image, then passed it on to the school board director next to him. Cliff leaned into his mike. “The photo appears to be Rick Barnett, shirtless as a young man.”
The audience gasped.
Rick whispered to Mr. Ziegler. “She stole it from my house.”
Ashlee stepped away from the podium, applause coming from more than half of the audience. She didn’t bother to collect the photograph.
Mr. Ziegler stood from his seat. “I’d like the opportunity to respond to this allegation.”
“This isn’t a court of law,” Cliff said. “You’ve had ample opportunity to present your evidence.”
Mr. Ziegler sat down, scowling at Cliff. The public comment forms sitting on the table in front of Cliff had dwindled to nearly none. It looked to Rick like there were only two left. One of those had to be Gwen’s, as she hadn’t been called yet. He worried about her. She was already nervous, and the building suspense wasn’t helping.
Cliff Osborn said, “Esther Jackson? Esther Jackson?”
Gwen stiffened, her face flashing scarlet.
A thick middle-aged woman approached the podium. She walked slow, her head held high, almost regal. She wore her hair in a modest afro, like a sixties Black Panther. Despite her serious demeanor, she wore Bugs Bunny on her long-sleeved and oversize T-shirt, with the phrase What’s up, Doc?
She had no notes or written speech and spoke a little too close to the mike, her voice booming. “I’m Esther Jackson.” She paused for a moment. “In 1955, a fourteen-year-old black boy named Emmett Till went into a grocery store and flirted with a twenty-one-year-old white woman named Carolyn Bryant. But Carolyn Bryant told her husband that he grabbed her around the waist and said nasty things to her. Three days later, her husband and his half-brother took Emmett from his home. These two men beat Emmett, tortured the poor boy, and shot him in the head. These two murderers were brought to trial, but they were acquitted by racist jurors. In 2008, Carolyn Bryant said that Emmett Till never grabbed her or said the nasty things they said he said. You must be wondering why I’m telling you about something that happened in Mississippi in 1955.”
Esther looked around the room at the white faces. “I’m telling you this because the same thing happened to my son, Emory. A few years ago, in Philly, Emory was a student of Mrs. Gwen Walker. She claimed that my son raped her, but I raised my baby right. He knew right from wrong. A mother knows her child better than anyone. I know he didn’t do what she said he did.” Esther looked at Gwen, her eyes narrowed. Gwen looked away. Esther shifted her gaze to the school board. “I was right too, because they tried to put my baby in prison for rape, but they found him innocent.” Esther shook her head. “But that wasn’t good enough. Just like Carolyn Bryant in 1955, Gwen’s husband, Brian Walker, killed my baby in cold blood. He was only nineteen years old.”
Gwen hung her head, staring at her lap.
Esther pursed her full lips. “I don’t know about all this mess around here, but I do know that Gwen Walker or Townsend, whatever her name is now, should not be around children. She should be in prison with her husband.” Esther strutted back to her seat, walking directly in front of Rick’s and Gwen’s table, making sure to give Gwen the evil eye on the way.
The applause for Esther Jackson exceeded all other speakers in intensity and duration. It was clear. They’d lost the crowd.
Rick shook his head, seething. “Fucking Janet,” he said under his breath.
Cliff called, “Gwen Townsend.”
But she didn’t move. She stared into her lap, still shell-shocked by Esther Jackson.
“Ms. Townsend?” Cliff said.
Gwen shook her head, not making eye contact.
Rick whispered into Gwen’s ear. “You need to respond to this bullshit. You can do it.”
But she didn’t respond. Not to Esther Jackson, not to Cliff Osborn, and not to Rick.
“That’s it for public comments,” Cliff said. “The board will now have an opportunity to comment.” Cliff went down the table from right to left, asking each school board director for a comment but all replied, “No comment.” All except the director at the end of the table, Heather Miles.
“This whole thing’s a show,” Heather said, looking at Rick and Gwen. “It’s ridiculous that we’re even doin’ this. Rick Barnett tried to seduce my daughter. How many other girls has there been? And Gwen Townsend-Walker’s cut from the same cloth. I can’t believe Pruitt hired her after what she did in Philly. It’s disgustin’. They’re disgustin’. We’d be stupid to let these child predators back into our school.”
The audience gave Heather a standing ovation. Not everyone but most everyone. A woman shouted, “Get rid of ’em.”
Cliff waited for the audience to sit down and quiet. When they did, he started the vote. Yes, for reinstatement and, no, for no action—or continued termination from Rick’s and Gwen’s perspective.
The vote was split four to four, with Cliff Osborn holding the final vote. He paused, his brow creased, as if he had to think about it.
Rick squeezed Gwen’s hand in anticipation.
Cliff leaned into his mike and said, “No.”
CHAPTER 125
Janet and Students for Change
Janet couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She sauntered into school on top of the world. Students on their way to first-period classes were subdued. The school felt … empty. Maybe not empty exactly but definitely less crowded. Janet checked her watch. Three minutes until the bell. The typical time Janet arrived. Something’s off. It’s too quiet. Jan
et walked into the main office. Grace Moyer didn’t even look up from her laptop. She used to be Pruitt’s secretary, now hers. Grace was still salty about Pruitt’s forced retirement. I’ll have to get rid of her. Or at least transfer her to the middle school. Janet continued to the back offices, passing the counselor, Mrs. Baumgartner. Again, no greeting. Janet passed her old office, and the new Vice Principal, Connor Burns. He was on the phone, but he managed a morning wave and smile. Janet returned the sentiment. He was the perfect number two. Young and dumb, loyal and eager. He already did most of the work. Janet had moved to Pruitt’s office. It was a bit bigger than her old office. She shut the door, sat behind her desk, and turned on her laptop. The late bell chimed. She checked her email. One in particular raised her blood pressure.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], 7 more
Subject: Our Demands
We witnessed the disgraceful display last night, and we refuse to participate in the evil that exists in West Lake High School. Our MANY members of WL Students for Change will NOT attend classes or extracurricular activities until Mr. Barnett and Ms. Townsend are reinstated. This includes the state championship football game this Friday.
Sincerely,
WL Students for Change
Janet slammed the side of her fist onto her desk. Her desktop phone rang in response, startling her. She picked up the receiver.
“Principal Wilcox,” she said.
“Janet, this is Dr. Matthews. Have you checked your email this morning?”
“I just checked it.”
“I’m assuming you received the email from this Students for Change person?”
“I did.”
“Does it have any merit?” Superintendent Matthews asked.
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Janet replied.
“Have you checked first-period attendance?”
“The tardy bell just rang.”
“I suggest you check the attendance numbers. Call me back as soon as you have the information.”
“Of course—”
The line went dead, with Janet midsentence. She hung up the receiver and stepped out to the main office. Grace Moyer typed on her laptop, still not acknowledging her presence.
“Grace,” Janet said, standing across the counter from the old woman.
“Hang on,” Grace replied, still typing, not making eye contact.
Janet tapped her long fingernails on the counter as she waited.
Finally, Grace looked up with a fake smile.
Janet said, “I need you to pull the first-period attendance records and let me know how many kids are out today.”
“My word, a bunch are out today. I could tell by the parking lot. I heard they’re mad about the hearing last night.”
Janet clenched her fists and spoke through gritted teeth. “I need the exact numbers. Now.”
“I don’t know if they’ve all been submitted yet.”
“They should’ve been. If any teacher hasn’t submitted, call them and tell them to do it immediately. Email me as soon as you have the numbers.” Janet turned on her heels and went back to her office and her emails, but she couldn’t concentrate. She kept refreshing, hoping to get those attendance numbers, hoping that it was just a few bad apples. Janet could handle a few bad apples. She could give them detention, suspend them, call their parents, threaten their futures.
Twenty minutes later, an email appeared from Grace.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Attendance
Of the 460 students enrolled, 304 are at school today. We usually only have about 40 students absent on any given day. This is a lot more than normal. I looked through some of the absentees, and it is a lot of football players too.
CHAPTER 126
Gwen and Wherever You Go, There You Are
Gwen and Rick had turned off their phones since last night’s hearing. Neither of them felt like fielding crank calls or even commiserating with the few friends they had left. They’d spent much of the day in bed, finding solace in each other. By the afternoon, they’d felt cooped up, so they decided to go hiking. Rick knew an isolated spot half an hour away.
On their way out, Gwen grabbed the mail. As Rick drove toward the state park, Gwen flipped through the letters. She opened one and stared at the contents, speechless.
Rick glanced her way. “What is it?”
Gwen swallowed, then sighed, shoving the folded papers back into the envelope. “I’m officially divorced.”
“You okay?”
“I knew it was coming. It’s for the best.” She sighed again. “It’s also another failure. I can’t seem to do anything right.”
“That’s not your failure. That’s bad luck. Bad circumstances.”
Gwen gazed from the passenger window, watching the roadside blow by in an amalgamation of leafless trees. “I used to tell myself that, but now I wonder if we create our own luck. Good or bad. I’m at least partly to blame for my situation.”
“Maybe, but none of this is your fault. Not your divorce. Not what happened in Philly and not what happened here.”
She forced a smile his way. “I’d like to believe you.”
Rick parked in the gravel lot. Only one other car was here on this cold Tuesday afternoon. They walked from the lot to the trail. The forest was barren, crunchy leaves underfoot. Their breath condensed in front of their mouths. To their right, the creek ran quick, white water created by rocky outcroppings. Rick held Gwen’s gloved hand as they hiked the windy path. They hadn’t spoken for minutes, both of them stuck in their own heads.
Rick finally broke the silence, saying what was on his mind. “It’s over, isn’t it?”
They stopped walking and faced each other, their hands no longer intertwined.
Gwen looked up at him, her blue eyes unblinking. “We’re out of options. We don’t have the money to sue the school district.”
“What about us?”
She looked down. “I can’t stay here, and I know you can’t leave.”
“What if I was willing to leave?”
She looked up at him. “Are you?”
“I don’t wanna lose you.”
“So, we just pack up and leave … together?”
“I was thinking that we could apply for jobs first.” Rick took both of her hands in his. “Let’s apply anywhere in the country. The first place where we both get hired, we’ll go. We’ll leave this place in the dust. A fresh start.”
Gwen pursed her lips. “What if we don’t get hired together? We just go our separate ways?”
Rick shook his head. “No, I don’t wanna leave without you, and I don’t want you to leave without me. If you get a job, I can do something else. Maybe I could start a football camp or something. Maybe I could get a job as a college coach.”
She had a small smile. “This is crazy. You know that I’m nearly broke.”
Rick smiled back. “If we moved in together, we’d save money.”
Gwen laughed, but it came out sad. “What are we doing? Is this a business transaction? Are we together because we have nobody else?”
Rick put his arms around her puffy coat and hugged her tight. She buried her head in his chest, feeling his warmth.
He said, “I know it hasn’t been the best of circumstances, but, despite everything, I’m happy with you. And, for the first time in my life, I think I can be happy anywhere, as long as you’re there.”
She tilted her head upward, and Rick pressed his lips to hers.
CHAPTER 127
Rick and Students on Strike
They exited the state park at dusk, barely enough light left to see. Gwen sat on the middle of the bench seat, leaning on Rick. He drove toward his house. He stopped at the end of his driveway and grabbed a week’s worth of mail from t
he box, then set it on the seat. He parked farther down his driveway, and they walked to the front door, the porch lights showing the way. Rick keyed his way in, allowing Gwen inside first, and shutting and locking the door behind them. He flipped on the foyer lights.
“I’m gonna grab some clothes,” Rick said, placing his coat on the rack. “You wanna check the kitchen? If there’s anything you’d like to eat, we can take it to your house for dinner, or we can eat here if you want a change of scenery.”
“Okay,” Gwen replied, already walking toward the kitchen.
Rick went to his bedroom, flipped on the light, grabbed a few T-shirts, some sweats, socks, and underwear. He walked to the kitchen and set his clothes on the kitchen table. Gwen rifled through the cabinets.
She emerged from the pantry, holding a jar of sauce and a box of pasta. “I could make spaghetti.” She motioned to the frozen meat she’d set on the counter. “That ground beef needs to be eaten.”
“Did you wanna eat here?” Rick asked, looking under the sink.
“I think a change of scenery would be nice.”
Rick grabbed a plastic trash bag from under the sink. “Sounds good.” He shoved his clothes into the bag. “Do you mind if I go through my mail while you work on dinner? I probably have some bills that need to be paid.”
Rumors Page 34