by Todie West
“Who wrote this?”
Everyone looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. Marco answered “Andrew Jackson?”
“Very funny, Marco. Did anyone see who wrote this?”
“No, Mr. Webster,” several students answered in unison.
Michael began to erase the words when Gina spoke up. “Wait, what does it mean, Mr. Webster?” Gina was a modern-day Nellie Olson from Little House on the Prairie, wanting everyone to notice how smart she was.
Thomas, the class suck-up, added, “Yes, Mr. Webster, what does it mean? And who is Andrew Jackson?”
Then several other students chimed in, asking for an explanation for what was written on the board.
“I’ll tell you what. Whoever can come back tomorrow and tell me what it means, and who Andrew Jackson is, I’ll put a hundred fake dollars in their mock checking account.”
“Alright!”
“Yeah! A hundred bucks!”
Jack lamented, “Ah, we don’t need any more homework.”
“It’s not homework, unless you want it to be, unless you want to pad your bank account. Now, are we ready for our spelling quiz?”
“Yes, Mr. Webster,” Gina answered.
Once the class was settled down, Michael passed around blank paper and began the test.
* * *
It had been a reasonably productive day in the classroom. Most importantly, Michael was able to temporarily get his mind off his mother’s death. He knew he would have to deal with it soon. After the bell rang, Michael dismissed the students, tidied up his classroom and proceeded to Ruby’s office.
“You wanted to see me?”
“I should say so.” Ruby’s sarcasm was a major repellant to everyone around her. She was overly professional, always dressed for success, with her hair neatly wrapped in a tight bun. Everyone wondered if she had any social life outside of school.
“I’m sorry I was late. I overslept.”
“That’s no excuse, Michael. I’m going to have to write you up. This will go in your personnel file.”
“My mother died last night.”
“What?”
“My mother died last night. That’s why I overslept.”
Ruby was about to accuse Michael of making up a cockamamie story to keep from getting in trouble, but she could tell by his facial expressions that he was serious. Since Michael had met her, this was the first time he had seen her exhibit true, heartfelt emotion.
“I am so sorry, Michael. What happened?”
Michael took a deep breath. “I’m still in shock. All I know is she had just arrived in Ecuador on a missions trip with her church and, as she was getting off the bus at the orphanage where they had planned on spending the next six months, she was struck by a car and was killed.”
“Oh, that is so sad. Maybe you should take some time off?”
“You know, Ms. Mason, it felt good to be in the classroom today. I think it was better than staying home. I’d like to continue, if it’s okay. I may take a day off for the service.”
“You take all the time you need. Just let me know when and I’ll arrange a sub for you. One less thing you’ll have to deal with.”
“I’m working with my kids on city government, so whoever you get, I’d like to talk to them about how we’re handling our ‘town.’ I don’t want to disrupt what I’m trying to teach them.”
“Sounds interesting. Is there anything else I should know? Is this something the District would approve of?”
“I’m sure they would. I’m teaching them how to balance a checkbook, pay bills, run an election – some practical things they will be able to use in real life.”
“I don’t need to review this curriculum, do I?”
“No, Ma’am.”
“You let me know what days you want off and I’ll arrange it and have the sub call you.”
“Sounds good.”
“And again, Michael, I am so very sorry to hear about your mom. I’ve heard really great things about her from when she was a school bus driver. The kids loved her.”
Michael smiled. “I remember riding along on her bus route every day until I was a junior in high school.”
“Probably a good thing. Kept you out of trouble.”
“Yeah, I suppose. I always finished my homework on the bus.”
“Good memories for you living in a small community.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Michael was a little confused by Ruby’s sweeter side and was very cautious, knowing her history with his mother. Maybe she wasn’t such a mean, old biddy after all, but time would tell.
“I better get going. Thanks.”
“See you tomorrow. And try to be on time.”
“Oh, I will. Sorry about that.”
“And no running in the hallway.” That was the first time Michael saw Ruby smile.
Chapter 4
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? (Psalm 139:7 NIV)
Michael pulled the Caddy into the driveway. He had never noticed the brilliant colors of the roses around his mom’s house. I wonder who I can hire to prune them. Michael knew he’d probably kill them if he tried to do it himself. His to do list was becoming overwhelming with all the funeral arrangements and the legal mumbo jumbo, which he thought would be uneventful since he was her only heir. Mom’s house was paid for and, lucky for Michael, she had put his name on the deed when she was first diagnosed with breast cancer. Unbeknownst to Michael, she had also taken out a life insurance policy that would take care of most of Michael’s expenses on the house for at least the next couple of years.
Tabby met Michael at the front door. “Hey, Buddy, how was your day?” Michael bent down to pet his roommate and then sat down on the sofa to gather his thoughts. He could not come to grips with the fact that his mother was never coming home. Tabby had not eaten in three days, which gave cause for more worry. He, too, was a cancer survivor, probably on his ninth life.
Mom was everywhere. Her colorful, hand crocheted afghans were strewn across the sofa and chair. Her walls were covered with Holy Bible verses with images she had hand crafted. I am the vine, you are the branches embroidered around a picture of a vineyard, a lighthouse with another scripture, Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path, and the picture of Jesus walking on the water with Do not be afraid written underneath. Just as Brad had mentioned about his granny’s house, God also seemed to be everywhere. Bessie had pictures of Jesus praying in the garden and Jesus with the little children. But Michael and God were not on good terms, and what had transpired over the past twenty-four hours was not helping to reconcile the relationship, at least not as far as Michael was concerned.
Michael gazed over at his mother’s bookshelf and found that it, too, was all about God and Jesus. A. W. Tozer, C. S. Lewis, Bible commentaries, devotions, the entire Left Behind series. She had tried to get Michael interested in those, but he caught on to the Bible theme and quickly declined. There was also a shelf full of books on American history. Hmm, that’s odd, Michael thought; but he was pleased to know that she wasn’t so obsessed with the Bible that she didn’t read other materials as well. He wondered if she had actually read John Adams, since it was over 600 pages long. How boring, he opined.
Michael’s mother had also saved a stack of books from when he was a young boy. A Shepherd’s Look at Psalm 23, Jesus Loves Me, and a book of Sunday school songs. Michael felt a sliver of guilt, knowing he had sang the songs and memorized the scriptures and made his mother think he really believed all that crap. Michael immediately shook his head and got up to prepare his list and make a few phone calls. His first call was to Pastor Dan. As much as Michael dreaded it, it was time to talk about the “arrangements.”
“Can I speak to Pastor Dan?”
“One moment please. May I say who’s calling?”
“It’s Michael Webster.”
“Oh, hello, Michael. This is Misty Franco, the chur
ch secretary. I am so sorry to hear about your mother. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call us.”
“Thanks,” Michael replied.
“Hang on just a moment, I’ll get him.”
A pause on the line brought a familiar Sunday school tune. Michael caught himself singing along and quickly stopped. He couldn’t get away from all this stuff. Boy, will I be glad when this is all over and I can get on with my life, he thought.
“Michael, so glad you called. You doing okay?” Pastor Dan’s voice exhibited sincere concern.
“I’m doing okay. Guess we better talk about those arrangements. I have no clue what’s supposed to happen. I’ve only been to one funeral and that was for my dog and we buried him in the backyard.” Michael’s mother had spared him the grief of attending his father’s funeral when he was 8, and all of his grandparents had passed before he was old enough to remember them.
“Not to worry. Your mother pretty much already told us what she wanted for a service.”
“Seriously? She already planned her own funeral?”
“It was her idea. It all came about when she was ill a few years ago. She wanted us all to know how she wanted to be remembered and, most of all, that she wanted Jesus to be glorified through it. After all, she’s with Him now. And we don’t call it a funeral; it’s more of a coronation, a celebration of her life.”
“Yeah, now that God took her life away, that’s really something to celebrate,” Michael answered in an extremely agitated tone.
“Someday you’ll understand, Michael. Someday.”
“Yeah, whatever. So you’ll plan it out? Do I have to put it in the paper or something?”
“As soon as we know when she’ll be arriving and we set a date and time, we’ll talk about what you want written up in the paper. No one knew her better than you.”
“I doubt that. I had no idea she planned her own funeral, for God’s sake. Oops, sorry.”
“Not a problem. I’ll be in touch.”
“Sounds good.”
“Is there anything you need, anything we can do for you?”
“No, nothing I can think of.”
“Well, then I’ll talk to you later. God bless.”
“Yeah, later.”
Good God! Michael thought. What’s up with people planning their own funerals? That’s morbid. I never heard of such a thing.
Michael went back to his to do list. He called Brad to make an appointment for his car.
“Hey Michael, how are you doing’?”
“Doing okay. Wondering when I can bring the VW in. It wouldn’t start this morning. Had to drive the Caddy to work.”
“I love that old car. Love the fins. Your mom kept really good care of it, scheduled maintenances and all. You really ought to think about getting rid of the VW and just driving the Caddy.”
“Gas mileage, Bro.”
“Oh, yeah, it is a gas hog. Let’s see, can you have her towed over to my shop tomorrow after work? I’ll take a look-see and work on it this weekend. Maybe if I have the parts I can have it back to you by Sunday night so you can drive it Monday.”
“That’d be great. Thanks, Brad.”
“So, do you know when the funeral’s going to be?”
“Not yet. It’s kind of on hold until the body gets shipped. That sounds so cold, but what am I supposed to say?”
“I gotcha. Well, if you need anything …”
“Yeah, I know, anything at all. Is that just the thing to say when somebody dies?”
“No, I really mean it.”
“I know, I’m just …”
“I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, again. Later.”
“Later.”
After an hour on the phone with the bank, electric company, water company, and garbage company, Michael found out he couldn’t do much about anything until he received the death certificate. So he called a landscape company and arranged for a little bit of yard cleanup.
* * *
The next day at school Michael deviated from the normal Friday testing and helped his class plan the upcoming election for mayor and city council for their mock city. He would soon be making appointments to the other vacant positions. He gave them their first lesson on how to balance their checkbooks.
“Brittany, put the hairbrush away. … Yes, Gina, what is it?”
“Remember yesterday you said we could have a hundred bonus dollars if we answered your question about that thing that was written on the board?”
“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot.” Michael turned to look up at the board to find the quote had been replaced by a different quote.
“Does anyone have any idea who is writing these things on the board?”
“No, Mr. Webster,” several students replied.
The new saying read: It was the Lord who put into my mind … the Gospel must still be preached to so many lands, signed Christopher Columbus.
“Do we get points for describing that one, too?”
“Let’s first see how you did on the other one. Is Gina the only one?”
No one else raised their hand, except Rene.
“Okay, Ladies, you can each turn in your answer and I will decide if you earned the hundred bucks.”
“Can we do the other one, too?”
“Anyone who wants to can try. Do your research, write down your answer, and turn it in on Monday.”
* * *
The final bell rang and it was finally the weekend. Michael gathered up his papers and turned out the lights. He saw Trish in the hall. She was a cute, petite blonde with gorgeous blue eyes and sweet smile, whose classroom was next to his.
“Sorry to hear about your mom, Michael.”
“Thanks. Where have you been? I noticed you’ve had a sub for a few days.” The two walked out towards the parking lot.
“Yeah, had a touch of the flu, didn’t want to spread it around. I’m fine now. Little kids don’t think twice about drinking out of someone else’s milk carton, and their noses are constantly runny.”
“That’s one reason I’m glad I have sixth graders. I would still rather be teaching in high school, but I need to go back to school myself before I can do that.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to teach high school. Really? I’ve heard they’re pretty rough.”
“Have you met my class this year?”
“You mean Marco and his friends?”
“How’d you guess?”
“I taught them all two years ago.”
“What I’d really like to do is teach in a community college.”
“But you’re so good with these kids.”
“But they’re aging me fast,” Michael mused. “Say, maybe we could get together for a drink after school sometime?”
“I don’t drink. I’m Mormon.”
“Oh.” Michael’s voice sunk. He just couldn’t get away from church people. He always thought Trish was cute, but now that he knew she went to church, he wasn’t sure he wanted to pursue the dating thing. But she got him at a weak moment and asked, “How about a milkshake?”
“That would be great.” Michael thought even if it wasn’t considered a date, he would enjoy having a friend his own age in his own field, since most of the other teachers at Drake were over 50 years old. Hopefully some of them would retire soon and they would get some new blood in there, that is if he decided to stay or go back to school.
Michael added, “Maybe after I’m finished with all the funeral stuff. I’m kind of busy right now.”
“Oh, I totally understand. You just let me know when you have some time.”
“Sounds, good.”
“Again, I’m sorry about your mom and if there’s anything …”
“I know, I’ll let you know.”
Michael called the tow truck from the school parking lot and arranged for them to pick up the VW at his mother’s house.
Chapter 5
The only way to have a friend is to be one. (Ralph Waldo Emerson)
“Hello.”
“Hey Jason, you doing anything tonight?”
“Hi Mike. I was thinking about calling you. You doing okay?”
“Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight, maybe go down to Bilco’s and shoot some pool, have a few beers.”
“Sounds good. What time?”
“Oh, I don’t care. Anytime. Say 8:00?”
“Great. You want me to come by and pick you up?”
“That would be cool. See you then.”
“Later.”
* * *
The two young men spent the evening at the pool hall. Michael told Jason from the get-go he didn’t want to talk about death, funerals, or his mother. He just wanted to take a break from it all for a few hours. The past couple of days had just about done him in and he would have enough to deal with over the next week.
“You dating anyone, Jason?”
“Haven’t been back long enough to even see what my options are.”
“Not much around here. There’s this cute teacher at school, but turns out she’s Mormon. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”
“Yeah, I guess not.”
“Not to change the subject, but maybe after all this funeral stuff is over with, you and I can go duck hunting. I doubt Brad would be able to get away.”
“Wow, I haven’t done that in years. If he can’t go, maybe we can borrow Bob.”
“I can’t believe he named his Lab Bob?” Michael grinned and shook his head.
“That’s Brad for you. When do you have to make your decision about the police academy?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you. I’m in. I Start right after the first of the year. I’ll be just hanging out for the next couple of months, getting my bearings, maybe work a little bit down at my brother’s auto parts store.”
“Well good for you. That’s something to celebrate. How is Jack doing? I haven’t seen him in a long time, either.”
“He’s doing okay. He went through a nasty divorce. It’s too bad because my mom doesn’t get to see her grandson very often, and now he’s almost a teenager.” Jack was several years older than Jason.