Down and Out in Bugtussle

by Stephanie McAfee

  I call Lilly and tell her about my two terrible days, and then we get off on the subject of Stacey Dewberry.

  “And, boy, she can chatter,” I say. “Ask one simple question, and she’ll tell you all kinds of crazy stuff.”

  “Poor thing,” Lilly says. “I’ve overheard other teachers making fun of her. I feel sorry for her.”

  “I do, too,” I say. “Today she told me an awful story about a kitten she had when she was little. She said it followed her inside one day, but she didn’t know it was behind her until she slammed its tail in the door and then her grandma had to take it to the vet and get its tail amputated.” Lilly starts sniggering. “What are you laughing about? That was not a funny story!”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I was just imagining you sitting there listening to that,” she says.

  “I know,” I say. “It’s nuts. She’s kind of pitiful, but then she’s kind of not because she’s so freakin’ cool in her own outrageously weird way.”

  “That ball of hair on her head is not cool,” Lilly says. “God bless it.”

  “Well, I didn’t mean her hair. I meant her,” I say, and then tell Lilly about the alphabetized cassette tapes. She doesn’t believe me until I ask her if she’s seen the black Iroc-Z28 with what has to be illegal tint on the windows parked in the teachers’ parking lot. “That’s her car!”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Lilly says. “Did she get it when she graduated from high school?”

  “No, she got it ten years after she graduated when the car was fourteen years old, and she’s been driving it ever since. She said it was her dream car.”

  “That’s hilarious,” she says. “But it is a pretty badass car.”

  “I want to ride around in it sometime. With the T-tops out, listening to a Whitesnake CD—oops, I mean tape.”

  “Ace! Don’t you start making fun of her, too.”

  “I’m not making fun,” I say. “I’m dead serious. I think Stacey Dewberry knows how to have a good time. During afternoon break today, she was telling me that she goes honky-tonking all the time. Then she invited me to come along this weekend. I hated to say no, but I just don’t think I’m ready for that kind of excitement right now.”

  “If you go out honky-tonkin’ with Stacey Dewberry, you better invite me, because that’s a trip I don’t wanna miss!” Lilly says. “So have you had the displeasure of running into Freddie D. yet?”

  “Only in passing,” I tell her.

  “You should probably stay away from him,” she says.

  “Why are you and Chloe so concerned about me having a conversation with him? Is he really that wicked?”

  “It’s not that he’s wicked. It’s that he’s buddy-buddy with Cameron Becker, and you don’t need to make any waves there or you’ll never get your job back. Plus he’s a bit of an instigator, and we all know how you get around people like that. Just try not to get tangled up in a conversation with him, because he’ll manipulate you into saying something and then twist it around and start a bunch of crap. He’s established quite a reputation for himself as a troublemaker, and we both know you don’t need any trouble right now.”

  “We might like each other.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you wouldn’t,” she says, sarcastically. “Chloe said that Stacey Dewberry nailed you first thing, and if she can figure out you’re trying to get your job back, then, yeah, I’m pretty sure it won’t go unnoticed by Freddie Dublin. He’s sharp as a tack. I don’t see y’all being friends at all.”

  “Are you saying I’m not sharp as a tack?” I ask, teasing.

  “I’m not joking, Ace. He’ll be onto you in a heartbeat if you try to pull something.”

  “What would I try to pull?” I ask, wondering what I could pull on Freddie Dublin to make him like me better than Cameron Becker.

  “Can you hear me rolling my eyes at that question?”

  “Fine,” I say, smiling. “So how did he and Ms. Becker get to be such big buddies in the first place?”

  “I don’t know. Both first-year teachers, I guess. Or maybe they bond over their excessive fabulousness.”

  “Are you being serious right now?”

  “Yes. He is fabulous to excess and so is she. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice how stylish he is.”

  “Yes, I did notice. He’s dashing.”

  “Just do us all a favor and stay away from him.”

  “Whatever. Got it,” I lie.

  “Oh and there’s something I need to tell you, but you can’t say that I told.” The tone of her voice makes me anxious.

  “I get really nervous when you say stuff like that.”

  “Chloe has come up with another blind date.”

  “What?” I moan. “Why? Why would she do that? The guy she fixed me up with this past weekend was the pits! Who is it this time?”

  “I don’t know,” she says.

  “So why are you telling me this now?” I sense a conspiracy.

  “Just wanted to warn you. That’s all.”

  “Lilly, I’m not going on another blind date.”

  “C’mon, Ace, you don’t want to hurt Chloe’s feelings.” She pauses. “Besides, what can it hurt?” Yep, this is a conspiracy for sure.

  “It can hurt my feelings, that’s what! I’d rather straighten my pubes with a flat iron than go on another blind date,” I say, and she starts giggling.

  “What are you going to tell Chloe?”

  “I’m going to tell her that I have to straighten my pubes,” I say, and Lilly cracks up. “Where does she find these poor, unlucky saps?”

  “Who knows?” Lilly says. “And you never know, Ace. She might find you a good one.”

  “I don’t see that happening,” I say sarcastically.

  “You never know.”

  “Whose side are you on here, Lilly?”

  “Yours, of course! But I’m sympathetic to Chloe’s efforts, too. She means well.”

  “Lilly, please,” I say, and feel Buster Loo tugging on the leash. “Hey, I’ve got to let you go. Buster Loo is trying to tree a squirrel.”

  “Okay,” she says cheerfully. “Maybe I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”

  “Maybe,” I say, and then slip the phone into my pocket. “Can’t wait for school tomorrow,” I mumble, wondering what kind of substitute hell is lying in wait for me then. I jiggle the leash, but Buster Loo refuses to budge. “C’mon, Buster Loo!” I say to my stubborn little dog. “Let that squirrel enjoy his nuts in peace!”

  5

  On Wednesday, Stacey Dewberry is wearing banana-colored pants with zippers all the way up both legs, an oversized button-up technetronic print top, and royal blue flats matching one of the less-prominent zigzag patterns in her shirt. She’s wearing either panty hose or knee-highs, I can’t tell which, and just like it has been for the past two days, her hair is hot rolled, teased to the max, and thoroughly coated with hair spray. “Good morning, Ms. Dewberry,” I say as she joins me at the conference room table. I make a conscious effort not to stare at her eye makeup, which is bright blue and heavy on the liner. I see that her complexion is just as smooth as her silk shirt, and that makes me wonder if she’s blessed with great skin or if all that foundation offers supreme coverage.

  “I was almost late because this airhead lady in my neighborhood had to stop me and tell me about—” She stops talking when Chloe comes in. “Good morning, Mrs. Stacks.”

  “Good morning, ladies,” Chloe says, sitting down.

  “Ms. Dewberry, you’re splitting the day today. First through third, you’ll be in Mr. Harrison’s room. You’re off fourth and fifth, and then sixth and seventh, you’ll be in Ms. Gale’s class.”

  “Totally groovy, Mrs. Stacks, thank you,” she says, taking the folders from Chloe.

  “Ms. Jones,” Chloe says, “you’re back in Mrs. Davis’s room today.”

  “Oh good word,” I say. “What’s going on with her?” I’m secretly jealous that Stacey is getting the lax schedule for the third day i
n row.

  “Her daughter has the flu,” Chloe says evenly. “She’ll probably be out the rest of the week.”

  Oh great stinkin’ balls of monkey shit! No! “Okay then,” I say, not wanting to make a scene.

  “Hey, since I’m off all three lunches, I’ll just come and eat with you again today!” Stacey says.

  “Thanks, Ms. Dewberry,” I say. “That’s very nice of you.”

  I pick up my folders and get up to follow Stacey Dewberry out the door.

  “Ms. Jones,” Chloe says as I’m about to step out the door.

  I turn around. “Yes, Mrs. Stacks?”

  “What period are you off again?”

  “Second,” I say. “You need me to do something?” I ask, hoping she might send me to D Hall so I can spy on Cameron Becker.

  “Could you come to my office, please?” She smiles and winks.

  Dammit! I think, remembering the conversation with Lilly a minute too late. Stepped right into that one! “Sure,” I say, turning to go. “See you then.” Wonderful. Just wonderful.

  First period, Brittany Franks acts like a fool for the entire first fifteen minutes of class. About the tenth time she starts talking out loud to her friend three rows over, I slide a detention sheet out of my sub folder and, while she continues to run her mouth, I scribble her name at the top. Without a word, I walk over and put her pink copy of the slip on her desk.

  “I can’t have detention,” she says in a panic. “I have cheerleading practice and we’re getting ready for tryouts!”

  “Take it up with Mr. Byer,” I say. “I can buzz his office and tell him you’re on the way.”

  She takes a deep breath and looks at me like she wants to rip my face off. “Not necessary,” she hisses, then slams her books around until, low and behold, she’s working on today’s assignment.

  When the bell rings, I somehow refrain from screaming, Oh thank you, Jesus! at the top of my voice. I turn out the lights, lock the door, and then make my way through the students, none of whom seem to be in any hurry to get to their next class. Since I’m not exactly in a rush, either, I move along at their pace without saying a word.

  By the time I get to Chloe’s office, I have a laundry list of excuses and/or plans for the entire weekend. While I’m waiting for her to get off the phone, I text Lilly and tell her to pretend to go to the restroom and come up to Chloe’s office and help me get out of this. She shows up a few minutes later, but we are unsuccessful in our attempts to dissuade Chloe from the topic. Not that Lilly tried that hard.

  “Okay, well, if I’m going on another blind date for you, then you have to do something for me.”

  “The date is not for me, Ace. It’s for you,” Chloe says.

  “No, sister, it’s for you. Trust me.”

  “What then?”

  “You have to make sure I get my job back.”

  “Ace, I don’t have time to discuss this right now.” She looks at Lilly. “Is this your planning period?”

  “Uh, no,” Lilly says. “And I was just about to head back to class.”

  Chloe picks up a stack of papers. “Okay, I’ll see y’all later. I’ve got to get busy helping Mr. Byer finish evaluations so we can get his recommendations to the county office by the deadline this Friday.”

  “That’s it!” I say. “Have y’all evaluated Becker yet?”

  “You know I can’t discuss that,” Chloe says.

  “You haven’t, have you?” Lilly asks. “Because yesterday, y’all stopped with Mrs. Callon and Mr. Wendell, right?”

  “How do you know that?” Chloe snaps.

  “Teachers’ lounge. Duh.”

  “Please don’t use that word.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Chloe, you could talk to Mr. Byer and very nicely suggest that the current art teacher not be recommended for renewal,” I say, glancing at Lilly who jumps onboard.

  “That would be too easy,” Lilly says. “Mr. Byer will do anything you suggest and he kind of owes you one because you’ve been saving his ass this whole entire year.”

  “Mr. Byer doesn’t owe me anything.”

  “Chloe, please,” I say. “I’m dying here. If I don’t get my job back, I’m gonna be screwed.”

  “But, Ace,” Chloe protests, “that would be nothing short of a blatant show of favoritism, and you despise small-town political shams, remember?”

  “You know, I really don’t so much anymore,” I say.

  “Ace Jones!”

  “C’mon, Chloe,” Lilly says quietly. “None of the students like Ms. Becker, and even the other teachers say she’s terrible. Sometimes I hear her yelling all the way down in my room. You would be doing the school a huge favor, and all you have to do is make a subtle suggestion. Then, bingo! Ace gets her job back.” Lilly winks at me. “You know she’s the better teacher.”

  “Be that as it may,” Chloe says, “maybe Ace shouldn’t have quit her job to begin with if it was so important to her.”

  “What?” I say, shocked by her snide tone. Lilly looks at me, eyes wide.

  Chloe shoves several files in her satchel and doesn’t look up. “Ace, I fixed you up with a very nice guy this past weekend and you weren’t interested. Nor do you seem very interested in meeting the perfectly nice guy I just mentioned. I told you about the job openings in psychology and you weren’t interested. Now you want me to blackball a first-year teacher and I’m not interested.” She looks at Lilly and then at me. “Good day, ladies,” she says smartly, then walks out the door.

  I look at Lilly, who appears to be as shocked as I am by Chloe’s outburst.

  “What the hell was that?” I ask.

  “Who the hell was that?” Lilly says. “Maybe the stress of that massive renovation project is starting to get to her.”

  “She hired a decorator and a construction crew!” I say.

  “Well, she still has to make a lot of decisions and she said last week that her cabinets had to be refinished because the glaze was all wrong. Maybe that’s why she’s in such a bad mood.”

  “Maybe so,” I say. “And J.J.’s brother moving back has really gotten on her nerves.”

  “Tate?”

  “Yes. Tate, with a stuffed fox and a collection of mounted fish and deer.”

  Lilly giggles at that. “I haven’t seen him in years. How is he?”

  “She said he was awful,” I say, laughing. “He and his stuffed fox are staying with J.J. right now and apparently the fox is on display in J.J.’s living room.”

  “Wow,” Lilly says. “I hate to say it, but that’s kind of funny.”

  “She doesn’t think so at all,” I say, getting up. “So I guess I’m going out with Dweeb Numero Dos this weekend.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a bad idea,” Lilly says. “I mean, it’s a free meal and—”

  “Don’t say it, Lilly.”

  “What?” she says with a sly smile. “Don’t say he might be your future husband?” She giggles and I give her the evil eye. “Just go out with him,” she says. “Then call and tell Chloe how great he was and how much you appreciate her setting you up.”

  “Right,” I say, getting up. “Because that’ll surely put an end to this blind date madness. Thank you.”

  She glances at her watch. “Aw, man. I’ve got to get back to class!”

  “Talk to you later,” I tell her.

  “Hope your day is better today.”

  “Thank you.”

  *

  During afternoon break, I’m sitting in the teachers’ lounge listening to Stacey Dewberry mourn the passing of Axl Rose’s singing voice, when the door flies open and a gorgeous chick dressed to the nines bursts into the room. Hot on her four-inch-high heels is a very dapper Freddie Dublin.

  “Oh my stars,” Stacey whispers. “It’s your nemesis from D Hall.”

  “What?” I whisper to Stacey. Then it hits me. “Is that—” I behold the face of my replacement.

  “Cameron Becker,” she replies.

&nb
sp; “What is her problem?” Cameron Becker asks as she jiggles ass and titties across the room to the fridge without bothering to acknowledge Stacey or me. “Who the hell does she think she is?”

  “Cameron, you should hire a lawyer and demand that evaluation be dismissed. You could lose your job over this.”

  “How dare she?” Cameron Becker fumes as she jerks the refrigerator door open. “Where are your Vitaminwaters, Freddie?”

  “Uh, that would be the only Vitaminwater in there, sweetie,” he says. “And you can’t just let this go. You need to go up there and talk to her face-to-face and let her know what’s up.”

  “I just did, Freddie, and she made a fool of me in front of Mr. Byer and Mrs. Marshall!” Cameron Becker takes a swig of purple Vitaminwater. “She’s the one who should be fired. She thinks she’s such hot shit sitting up there in her counselor’s office with all of her pretty plaques on the wall. Well, I’ve got news for her.”

  “Hold on a minute!” I say, standing up.

  “Ace, uh, Ms. Jones, I d-don’t think you should—,” Stacey Dewberry stammers.

  “If you’re talking about Chloe Stacks, you better stop right there.” I look at Cameron and then at Freddie.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Substitute Teacher,” Freddie snaps. “This is an A and B conversation, and you need to C your way out of it.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask Freddie. “Did you really just say that?”

  “Why, yes, I did,” he says, giving me a wry look. “And I may have even meant it, too.”

  “Who are you?” Cameron Becker asks, scowling.

  “This is Ms. Jones, former art teacher turned permanent substitute,” Freddie says with a smirk.

  She narrows her eyes and looks at me. “Oh, so you’re the one that I was hired to replace?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Yes,” Freddie Dublin says. “And she’s Mrs. Stacks’s BFF.” He looks at Cameron. “I told you to get a lawyer.”

  She stares me down for a minute. “So you’re the reason she gave me a bad evaluation?”