by Todie West
Michael wanted to say, Oh, I bet you would, but chose a polite “Thank you” instead.
The ladies gave Michael a hug and left.
Michael turned on the coffee maker and filled his freezer with the food, except the apple pie that had only one piece missing. Michael thought that was probably the piece I ate. He cut himself a chunk and piled on the last of the vanilla ice cream. He poured himself a cup of coffee and proceeded to the living room and turned on the television. He had totally forgotten that the Cal Bears was playing the USC Trojans in football later that day and the commentators were giving their predictions and profiles of the top players.
After finishing his breakfast of pie a la mode, Michael made himself comfortable and settled in for a day of football on the sofa. Tabby had been wandering around the house, no doubt looking for Mom, and decided the sofa looked pretty good to him, too.
“So, Tabby, what are we going to do about this place?” Michael had no ambition to get up and clean it, but the piles of newspapers and dirty dishes were starting to get to him. “What do you think about those pictures, Tabby? Don’t you think we need to replace them with something a little more masculine? Oh, what do you know, you’re just a cat.”
Michael jumped up to a knock at the screen door.
“Who are you talking to in there?” asked Brad.
“Oh, just having a conversation with the cat.”
Brad chuckled and let himself in. “Jason told me about last night.”
“Yeah, not much luck. How’d you get away from the family?”
“Marnie took Katy on a play date.”
“Play date? What’s that?”
“It’s where a bunch of 2 and 3 year olds get together and slobber all over each other.”
“Sounds like fun,” Michael rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, they teach them young how to fight over their toys.”
“And spread germs.”
“Absolutely. Oh, Marnie wanted me to ask you to dinner tomorrow night.”
If it had been anyone else, Michael would have interpreted it as a sympathy invite, but this was Brad, his best friend, one of the three musketeers, or stooges, depending on what kind of shenanigans the three were involved in on any given day.
“Sure, what time?”
“You’re welcome to come over any time. I think she said dinner would be around 5.”
“That will be perfect. Can’t stay out too late. I guess Jason told you my plan for Monday night.”
“Yeah. I hope you can get to the bottom of your little mystery.”
“Me, too. It’s driving me nuts. The good thing is, though, it’s keeping my mind occupied and I don’t have time to think about sad stuff.”
“I gotcha. Or about cleaning your house. This place is a pig pen.”
“Hey, the only reason your house is clean is because you have a wife.”
“Well, you better get out there and find you one.”
“Not in any hurry there. Still paying for the last one.”
“I know. But what about your date with the school teacher?”
“It’s not a date, I told you. I have no intentions with her. She’s too religious.”
“Nothing wrong with being religious. It’s better than having them running around on you.”
“I guess. Or racking up credit card debt.”
“I don’t know if religion would solve that. I think shopping is ingrained in all women.”
“Marnie has that problem, too?”
“Oh, she’s not so bad. She knows how hard I work, or how hard both of us work, and she knows how much is in our budget. She gets a little carried away at Christmas, though, with the kid and all.”
“You got yourself a good woman, there, Brad.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Is she religious at all?”
“She used to go to church regularly when we were in high school, but she hasn’t been back in a long time. Right now she doesn’t have much time with working part time and the baby. Well, I guess I can’t say she’s really a baby anymore. I suppose Marnie’s going to want to start her in Sunday school in the next year or so.”
“I think religion is just a crutch. My mom latched on because my dad died and that was fine for her. I don’t need it.”
“Yeah. Me neither. Don’t tell my mom that, though. She thinks I go every Sunday. What time’s the game start?”
“One o’clock. How do your folks like living in Florida?”
“They love it. My mom hated the winters here.”
“Our winters are like summer compared to someplace like Minnesota.”
“I suppose if you lived in Minnesota you’d think that.”
“You want something to eat? The church ladies came by and filled my freezer full of casseroles. I can pop one in the oven if you want.”
“Sounds good. I don’t have to be back home until 3 so I can watch the first half of the game.”
The two cheered for Cal, who was ahead at halftime when Brad got up to leave.
“I can give you the name of a good housekeeper.”
“I can do it myself. Maybe next weekend. I just don’t have a lot of ambition right now.”
“I know what you mean. See you tomorrow. Come on by anytime.”
“Can I bring anything?”
“Just yourself.”
* * *
Sunday morning Michael was able to sleep in a little longer, before Tabby jumped up onto the bed.
“What time is it, Tabby?”
Same routine, different day. NFL instead of college football, apple pie for breakfast. Dang, I forgot to get more ice cream at the store, Michael groaned.
The piles of newspapers and dirty dishes were beginning to close in on Michael. He found himself picking up messes and doing dishes until the living room and kitchen were starting to look almost normal again. He had neglected the house and the yard for a couple of weeks, but he had been a bit preoccupied. As soon as the sun burned away the fog, Michael was outside raking leaves. It felt good to be moving again, almost exhilarating.
After bagging up the leaves, Michael decided to take a trip to his storage unit to pick up a few things. He was especially looking for some of his pictures to replace the portraits of Jesus. Michael couldn’t bear the thought of selling any of his mother’s things in a garage sale, so he would put some of them in storage. He tried not to read the scriptures as he removed some of her art work, but one scripture in particular caught his eye. He remembered her saying it from time to time, whenever he would try and tell her she shouldn’t share her faith so freely. If they keep quiet, the stones will cry out… Luke 19:40.
Maybe that IS my mother writing on the blackboard…. no, that’s just crazy talk. Michael snapped himself back into reality.
Pleased with his work, a clean room, and sports posters on the walls, Michael collapsed exhausted on the sofa. It’s a start.
After a quick nap, Michael got cleaned up and drove to Brad and Marnie’s for dinner. First he stopped and picked up a bottle of wine.
“Michael,” Marnie greeted him at the front door. “Come on in.” She gave him a big hug and whispered, “So sorry about your mom. Down, Bob.”
“Thanks. And thanks for having me over.”
“Thanks for the wine. This is great.”
“Come on in,” Brad announced from the family room.
“I still can’t believe you named your dog Bob.”
“Doesn’t he look like a Bob?”
“No, but he is a good hunter.”
“That he is. Oh, I forgot to tell you. Bob just became a daddy. Yes you did, you rascal, you.” Brad rubbed Bob behind his ears.
“Really.”
“Yeah, had a little fling with the lady next door.”
“Was it a planned pregnancy?”
“Nope. But thank God she’s of the same breed. Maybe we can get a stud fee if they sell any of the puppies.”
<
br /> “Well look at you,” Michael reached into the playpen and gave Katy a pat on the head. “I can’t believe I just did that. I sound just like Mrs. Baker.”
“Who’s that?”
“Some lady at my mom’s church. She still says stuff like that to me every time I see her. If she’s not squeezing my cheeks, she’s patting me on the top of the head. Sorry, Katy.”
“Katy likes it. She’s only 2.”
Michael and Brad laughed.
“Something sure smells good in there,” Michael hollered into the kitchen.
“Lasagna. The red wine you picked out will go perfect. Are you boys about ready to eat?”
“Starved,” Michael rubbed his stomach.
The three adults sat down at the table and Katy banged on the tray of her high chair.
“Does she ever cry?”
“Only if she gets hurt. She’s a really good baby. “Slept through the night after a month,” Marnie answered, as she cut up some vegetables for Katy.
“A month? Is that good? I wouldn’t know.”
“Yes, Michael, that’s very good,” Brad remarked.
“Sorry, I’ve never spent much time with little kids.”
“So what did you do all day, my friend?”
“You aren’t going to believe it, but I actually cleaned the living room and the kitchen, and raked four bags of leaves…”
“Wow!”
“And …”
“There’s more?”
“I went to the storage unit and picked up some things.”
“Furniture?”
“No, just some pictures.”
“Oh, yeah! You got rid of some of those pictures of …”
“Yes.”
“Pictures of what?” asked Marnie.
“Oh, I just wanted to make the place look a little more masculine. It just looked too much like an old lady’s house. It’s a start. I’ll probably put some of her furniture in storage and bring over some of mine. I know my bed is more comfortable than the one I’m sleeping on right now.”
“What kind of pictures did you put up? Not naked girls?”
“Oh, Marnie, don’t worry. Just sports pictures and posters. I have an autographed picture of Michael Jordan.”
“You still have that?” asked Brad.
“Why would I get rid of it?”
“True. Are you going to have a garage sale, get rid of any of your mom’s furniture?”
“Can’t bear to do it just yet. I think I’ll keep it in the storage unit until I decide. Give it some more time.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Brad agreed.
“Everything was delicious, Marnie. Thanks.”
“Hope you made room for dessert.”
“Marnie makes the best double Dutch chocolate cake.”
“I can’t pass that up.”
With the first bite Michael exclaimed, “You are right. This is the best double Dutch chocolate cake I’ve ever tasted.”
“Would you like another piece?” asked Marnie.
“No, thanks. I’m stuffed. I really should be going. Thanks so much for dinner. It was great.”
“You’re welcome anytime, Michael,” Marnie replied.
“Yeah, you don’t need an invitation. You’re family.”
Thanks, you guys. Michael hugged them both and gave Katy another pat on the head.
“Good luck tomorrow night,” Brad whispered.
“Thanks. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”
Chapter 11
I have tender reliance on the mercy of the Almighty; through the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ. I am a sinner. I look to Him for mercy; pray for me. (Alexander Hamilton’s last dying words, July 12, 1804)
Michael arrived at school, purposefully before Ruby, so he could get his sleeping bag into the room without being seen. He rehearsed in his mind a story about a flea bomb at his house, just in case he was caught spending the night in his classroom.
The day was long and Michael wondered if he would be able to stay awake all night. This was his last chance. He had to find out what was going on. Part of him wanted the quotes to stop coming, but not before he found out who was writing them. Then he noticed the quote for the day God with us. There was no scripture reference on this one, and Michael surprised himself by saying a short little prayer for God to be with him so he could get to the bottom of the mystery.
As Trish was leaving, she peeked into Michael’s classroom. “You want to get that cup of cocoa now?”
“How about tomorrow. I’ve got a lot to do here.”
“Sounds good. Don’t work too hard.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Ruby was usually the last to leave school at the end of the day. She was surprised to see Michael still working at his desk, or at least going through the motions.
“What’s with the piles of boxes, Michael?” Ruby asked.
“Oh, uh, I was just doing a little bit of redecorating.”
Well, be sure and lock up. I think Roy’s gone home already.”
“Not a problem.” Michael barely looked up at Ruby.
Once Michael was sure Ruby had left the building, he got up and walked the halls, looking in every room. The doors to the building were locked, so if it wasn’t a ghost, it had to be someone who had a key. He went back to his room and turned off the lights. He readied his corner with piled boxes, sleeping bag, food and drinks. He set up his laptop on one of the boxes and, as quietly as possible, navigated the Internet. He found himself checking out paranormal sites, which talked about ghosts and interventions people have had with them. He even looked up the quote for the day and found it was not only a Bible scripture, but that it was inscribed on the sail of the Mayflower. With Thanksgiving coming, he decided to intertwine this into his history lesson in the next month.
Michael tried everything within his power to stay awake. He drank an entire thermos full of cold coffee. It didn’t taste very good, but the caffeine helped. He tried his best to be quiet when going to the restroom in case he scared off the perpetrator.
Michael checked the time on his cell phone. It was 4:00 a.m. and he had managed to stay awake all night, but there had been no intruders into his classroom. He peeked out to find nothing written on the board yet. They still had time to do their deed before anyone else arrived at school, so Michael returned to his sleeping bag and tried to stay warm.
* * *
“What’s going on in here?”
“What? What?” Michael had dozed off and woke to the sound of Ruby’s piercing voice.
“Roy said there was someone sleeping in here. You scared him half to death. What on earth are you doing?”
“Oh, uh,” Michael wiped his eyes. “I had to set off a flea bomb in my house.”
“Don’t you have a friend you could stay with?”
“I didn’t want to put anybody out.”
“Well, next time make other arrangements. I’ll not have anyone sleeping in my school at night.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Michael was dying to look at the board, but didn’t want to draw attention to it with Ruby in the room.
Ruby noticed it anyway, and the anger in her voice was deafening. “I thought I told you the Bible teaching would have to stop! Get yourself together and see me in my office immediately.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Michael gasped as he read the quote for the day: It is impossible to rightly govern the world without God and the Bible. It was signed by George Washington. Michael knew he was in big trouble now. If only I could have stayed awake just a couple hours longer, he thought.
Michael followed Ruby down the hall while straightening out his hair with his fingers.
“Hold all my calls,” Ruby ordered as she passed the secretary’s desk.
“Yes, Ma’am.” The secretary gave Michael an inquisitive look and Michael shrugged his shoulders and gave her a half smile. Ruby slammed her door after Michael entered.
“Sit.”
Michael sat down and kept silent.
“You have been warned about this, Michael. I’ll not have defiance in my school. I realize you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, but there is no excuse. This is just downright defiance on your part and I’ll not have it. Religious teaching is for church, not the public school. If you want to teach religion, you should go teach at a religious school. You are fired. Get your things and go home.”
“What about my kids?”
“You let me worry about that. Go home.”
Michael was in shock. He returned to his classroom and gathered his things. On the way out he passed Trish.
“Where you going, Michael?”
“Going home.”
“What?”
“Been fired.”
“Oh my gosh! What for?”
“It’s a long story. If you’re still up for that cocoa today, I’ll fill you in.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you at the Coffee Shack at 4.”
“I’ll be there.”
Michael went home and called his union representative to see if he had any recourse. He was told he would be entitled to a hearing before the District Board, but that they would have the final word, since he was a probationary teacher. An appointment was made to meet with the representative to weigh the options.
Michael proceeded to outline a defense, but everything he wrote made him sound like a crazy person. Either way, he was defeated. He drove up to his mother’s grave and had a little chat with her. He thought she might give him some insight on what to do next, since she was the one who got him into this mess, or was she? And he was also at odds again with her God for allowing this to happen.
Michael was confused and discouraged. This would be his own David vs. Goliath moment. He knew that story well, but didn’t really believe it. He had seen the Drake Valley Unified School District in action before and knew the odds were against him.
* * *
Michael arrived at the Coffee Shack a few minutes early to gather his thoughts. His meeting with Trish was more of a counseling session than a date. He just needed someone to vent to, someone who might understand what he was up against. He was not close to any of the other teachers. They rarely even said hello. Of course, he wasn’t exactly friendly with them, either. And the principal was so overbearing. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Maybe there was another career out there for Michael. His mind became so flooded he could barely concentrate on one thing at a time.