Teacher's Pet

by Andrew Neiderman

  Before she could do anything else, Barton returned home from work. She went to make supper, but he sensed something was wrong. He had been sensing it all week.

  “You look distracted,” he said. “Like you have something very serious on your mind, but you don’t know how to express it.”

  “What? No, I don’t have anything on my mind.”

  “I talk to you, tell you things, and you look at me, but you’re not listening. I can tell, Ellen. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Why do you always have to think something’s wrong?”

  “Well, when you live with someone and you know someone as long as I’ve known you and you’ve known me, you can pretty much sense when something’s not right. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s one thing, but don’t try to get me to believe nothing’s wrong,” he said. He was unusually aggressive about it. She didn’t reply, but she didn’t snap back at him.

  What was she going to say anyway: I had an affair with the next door neighbor, but he’s ignored me ever since? It occurred to her that she couldn’t even call it an affair. It was more like a moment; she’d had an extramarital moment. That idea made her laugh. Barton looked up from his plate expectantly.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. I…I was just remembering how I got away from old man Cutler the other morning. You know how he can talk your head off. He came by just as I opened the front door and I screamed that I had left something on the stove. I went back in and slammed the door behind me before he could utter a syllable. He probably thinks I’m crazy.”

  “Probably does,” Barton said with an uncharacteristic dryness. “What’d’ya been doin’ all day? I thought you were going to take my suits to the cleaners; they’re still on the chair in the bedroom.”

  “Oh, I forgot.”

  “So, what’d’ja do?”

  “I…just hung around the house. I don’t know, a little of this and that and time just passed.”

  “Usually, you’re out and about,” he said, but he didn’t look at her. It made her feel guilty and wonder if he suspected anything. He hadn’t asked her any questions about the tutor all week and he hadn’t said a thing about him himself. As if on cue, he looked up and said, “Our neighbor’s doing pretty good, I hear.”

  “Yes, I guess so.”

  “You must see the parade of students going into his place.”

  “I don’t sit around watching his business, Barton.”

  “That’s unusual. Everybody else watches everyone else’s business on this street.”

  “What are you so bitter about tonight?”

  He didn’t say anything. He went on to finish his dinner in silence, but later on, after she had put things away, he came out of his office to join her in the living room. She had just turned on the television set.

  “I heard a nasty rumor today,” he said. She looked up at him and her heart began beating quickly.

  “What?”

  “It concerns our wonderful neighbor.”

  She brought her hand to her throat and sat back on the couch. She felt herself grow frantic as she thought of possible denials. Yes, he had come over, but it was just harmless—coffee and some friendly conversation. The neighbors are vicious to make such suggestions. And how could he believe them? That was good, she thought. Go on the offensive.

  “What about him?”

  “Seems they drove him out of the last town he was in because he bagged the wives of a number of important people.”

  “What do you mean, Bart?”

  “He had affairs. You know what affairs are, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” It came out weak and small.

  “Well, what do you think about that?” he asked, his face broken into a wry smile, one that she interpreted as a smile of pain and hate. She said nothing.

  “Who told you this?” she asked. She felt as though the breath had been knocked out of her.

  “Charlie Rosen heard it from one of his salesmen.”

  “Maybe he’s mistaken him for someone else.”

  “That’s what Charlie’s wife told him. I got the feeling from the way Charlie talked that Barbara’s quite taken with the guy. He must be some charmer, huh?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he can be.”

  “You know, I’m really surprised at you, Ellen. When it comes to this new neighbor, it’s as if you know nothing about him.”

  “Yes,” she said, but more to herself than to him.

  “And with all your good eyes and ears out there…what have you women been doing, ignoring good gossip?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. She got up and went back into the kitchen and then out to her exercise room from where she could look into Adam Lucy’s house. There were lights on in the kitchen, but she saw no one there. She stood staring and waiting for as long as she could before Bart began to call for her.

  Then, before she went back to the living room, she saw him appear with what looked to be the Masterson boy. She watched them talking. They stood so closely to each other and the boy’s attention was so solidly fixed on Adam. After a few moments, he stroked Johnny Masterson on the head affectionately and then they walked out of the kitchen.

  She was disappointed. Even watching him with one of his students was fascinating to her. All this week she had been hungering for the sight of him. She felt like a vampire craving blood. She knew that she would continue to pursue him, even though she thought it was degrading and dangerous.

  And what if the story Barton heard were true, what if he were a womanizer? Wouldn’t that make it more degrading, especially since she had this warning? Was he after Barbara Rosen? Was that why he had avoided her?

  “Ellen.”

  “I’m coming,” she called back, but she looked at the tutor’s house. “Who are you?” she muttered. “And what have you done to me?”

  She fled from the dark room before she could hear any answers.

  After Mr. Zola’s third day of absence, the rumor mill began to grind away at school. The teachers had a standing joke when it came to news about anything involving the educational system: “If you want to know anything, ask the students.” Sure enough, although Johnny and the rest of Mr. Lucy’s kids did not tell any of the other students about the manufactured incident, the students began to find out and to talk about it in dribs and drabs.

  Exact information was hard to come by, but by the fourth day most of the students knew that Mr. Zola was forced to leave the school. The reason did not remain vague long. What was unknown was who the students were who were involved.

  Carman had met with the superintendent and they had called in the president of the Board of Education. Everyone decided he had to meet with the Rosens and the Mastersons immediately.

  He told them there was no need for the public to know anything specific. He had taken care of the situation. Both the Mastersons and the Rosens appeared to agree. Barbara Rosen tried to discuss it with Gary, but he pretended it was all too terrible to relive. Charlie Rosen seemed to feel it was just something that was inevitable, considering the son he had. He had no desire to discuss it. Frustrated, a few days later, Barbara Rosen told someone “in confidence” who proceeded to tell someone else “in confidence,” and the story with the facts wound its way back to the school.

  Johnny’s parents handled it differently. His father was furious that Johnny had been so abused and initially wanted to pursue additional avenues of vengeance, but when Bill Carman pointed out the additional publicity that could result, Phyllis Masterson forced her husband to accept the actions of the school as sufficient. Both of them treated Johnny as though he was a wounded war hero.

  At first his sister thought she might get back at him for the way he had gotten her in trouble, but the first time she tried to joke about the incident with Zola, Johnny’s parents came down on her so hard she retreated in terror.

  Mr. Lucy had predicted Johnny and the others would find themselves increasingly isolated from the rest of the student bo
dy as the news about Gary and Johnny became more widely known, however it was a sacrifice they were all prepared to endure.

  Of the four, Sandy felt it the most. A very attractive girl, she had been the most popular. Her regular clique of friends had begun to resent her association with Sheila. The more she hung around with her, the further away her old friends grew. It got back to her stepmother Paula, but when she tried to talk to her about it, Sandy stormed out of the room, telling her what she did with her personal life was none of her damn business. Her father didn’t interfere. As usual, he took the easy way out, avoiding siding with either her or Paula.

  The increased isolation strengthened rather than weakened Mr. Lucy’s kids. The faster and more completely they could answer questions, the better grades they achieved, and the better their overall behavior, the more they demonstrated the value and the power of Mr. Lucy’s tutoring. Soon, the other students were doing more than just avoiding them; they had come to resent them as well.

  They resented their confidence and their achievements. They resented their steadfast loyalty to one another. Others who had been using Mr. Lucy’s services began to ease away from him. Increasingly, they saw something freakish in the whole situation. True, they were doing better in school, but after a while, anyone who used him become labeled as “one of those.”

  Johnny was the first to see the flight of the others from the tutor. This growing rejection of Mr. Lucy was intolerable. He was able to tolerate being rejected himself. After all, it wasn’t the first time he was placed in a separate category, but an attack on Mr. Lucy was something entirely different. It was an attack on the meaning, the value, and the purpose of all that he saw as good and true. It couldn’t be and it wouldn’t be endured.

  This first crystallized itself when he heard that little Tommy Richards, a ninth-grader who looked more like a seventh-grader, had stopped going to the tutor. Johnny collared him in the lower corridor by the boys’ locker room right before Tommy’s gym class and demanded to know why he had stopped seeing Mr. Lucy.

  “Your grades have improved, haven’t they?” he asked him.

  “Yeah.”

  “So?”

  “I just don’t wanna go anymore, that’s all.”

  “That’s stupid. Why would you stop doin’ something that’s helping you?” Tommy shrugged and tried to get away, but Johnny blocked him. “Your parents didn’t tell you to stop, right?” he said. Mr. Lucy had told him that Tommy’s mother called and placed the blame entirely on Tommy.

  “No.”

  “So? You want your marks to drop?”

  “They ain’t gonna drop,” Tommy said softly. He could see that Johnny was furious.

  “Why not? They weren’t so great before, were they?”

  “I’m gettin’ help from someone else.”

  “Who?” Johnny demanded.

  “It’s part of honor society. They assign people to help you.”

  “Yeah? Who the hell was assigned to you?”

  “Richard Slattery,” he said. “He’s helpin’ Eric Todd and Carl Novick, too. He’s going to be the valedictorian,” Tommy added proudly. He pulled himself out of Johnny’s grasp and went into the locker room.

  Johnny stood there thinking a moment. Richard Slattery had been jealous of his achievements from the start. He had been one of Mr. Zola’s favorites and now he was the leader of a group who were constantly mocking Mr. Lucy’s kids. Slattery was bright, probably the brightest in the school, there was little doubt about it, but he had always been an arrogant creep as far as Johnny was concerned.

  He brought the news to the others.

  “If Mr. Lucy keeps losing students, he won’t have the income to remain in Centerville,” Johnny explained. They had all gone to Sandy’s house after school to discuss the situation. Her father was at work and her stepmother was shopping. They stood around in the kitchen and watched her brew tea the way Mr. Lucy brewed it.

  “Let’s tell him to keep our insurance account for himself,” Gary said. They all quickly agreed.

  “Let’s build it up a little more,” Sandy said. She took a heavy gold chain out of the pocket of her jeans and held it up. “It’s twenty-four carats,” she said.

  “That’s yours?” Sheila asked.

  “It was…Paula’s, but my father’s given her too much as it is,” she said, and laughed.

  “He needs more than jewelry,” Johnny said. “Whenever possible, we’ve got to get him hard cash.”

  “I’ll get him five hundred dollars by tomorrow,” Gary announced. “My father keeps money stashed in this cigar box in the basement. It comes from cash deals he makes so he won’t have to pay any income tax.”

  “Won’t he realize it’s missing?” Sheila asked.

  “Naw. He doesn’t even know how much he has. If worse comes to worse, we’ll take the whole thing, but make it look like a burglary,” he said. “Then what’s he going to do? Call the cops to complain about being robbed of money he’s hiding to steal from the government?”

  “Great,” Johnny said. “So if we have it, we’ll be able to provide Mr. Lucy with the income he needs to remain.”

  “Right,” Gary said. “So let’s not worry about that.”

  “But we have other problems,” Johnny said. “We can’t let everyone desert him; it won’t look good and he might not want to stay even though he has enough money.”

  “Johnny’s right,” Sandy said. “If some of these kids turn their parents against him…”

  “Well, how can we stop it?” Sheila asked.

  “First we’ve got to stop that creep Slattery from opening his big mouth,” Johnny said. Everyone was silent a moment.

  “Maybe we oughtta discuss this with Mr. Lucy,” Gary said.

  “He’s right, Johnny. We may end up making things worse for him if we don’t handle it right.”

  “We can handle it right. I’m only talking about Slattery. What the hell’s so special about him?”

  “All the teachers love him, for one thing,” Gary said. “He’s always kissing ass and you know what his grades are like.”

  “He’s popular with a certain group,” Sheila said.

  “And many of the kids in that group were and are using Mr. Lucy,” Gary emphasized.

  “He told Elly Kaplan that he doesn’t believe Mr. Zola did what you guys said he did,” Sheila said.

  “What? When did he say this?” Johnny asked.

  “On the bus yesterday.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Gary asked.

  “I forgot.”

  “You forgot? Jesus,” Johnny said.

  “Well, I didn’t think it was important.” She looked at the others, but they were unsympathetic. “I had other things on my mind,” she added sadly.

  “Like what? What could be so important that you’d forget that?” Gary demanded. Sheila was quiet a moment.

  “My father finally moved out of the house for good,” she said. Everyone simply stared at her a moment.

  “I’m sorry,” Sandy said. She took her hand.

  “It’s all right. I’m getting over it.”

  “Let’s get back to Slattery,” Gary said. “He’s a smart kid, Johnny.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You think he’s going to be able to figure things out?” Gary’s silence annoyed him. “Is he smarter than Mr. Lucy? Well, is he?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “So?” Johnny said.

  “So we’ll have to tell Mr. Lucy,” Sheila said, raising her arms for emphasis.

  The hot water pot began to whistle. Everyone watched Sandy pour the water into the teapot to brew the tea. Then, as though they were participating in some religious ritual, they gathered around the table and sat quietly by their cups.

  “There’s sugar and lemon if anyone wants it,” she said. There was a heavy silence. “We’re not going to get into trouble and everything’s going to be all right,” she added finally.

  “Of course it will,” Johnny said. />
  “This tea’s good,” Sheila said. “Almost as good as Mr. Lucy’s.”

  “It’s as good as Mr. Lucy’s,” Gary said sullenly.

  “Should we go there now or wait for tonight?” Sandy asked.

  “Who’s on for tonight?” Gary asked.

  “None of us,” Johnny said. “He’s seeing Jeff Benson from seven to nine.”

  “How come you know his whole schedule?” Gary asked, his jealousy evident again.

  “I just listen when he speaks.”

  They were all quiet again.

  “We’ll wait outside of Mr. Lucy’s house around nine,” Johnny said, “and when Jeff leaves, we’ll go in to talk to him.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement, and then, as though to seal it with a symbol, they all raised their teacups and drank.

  The four waited in the shadows across the street from Mr. Lucy’s house. Johnny was happy they had come in the evening. Darkness surrounded the old structure like a protective wall. He had this image in his mind—once they crossed the road and entered that darkness, it closed in around them just as protectively as it closed in around Mr. Lucy. The darkness had never seemed as warm and inviting to him before.

  From time to time, they saw Mr. Lucy’s form silhouetted in the living room window. Johnny thought he looked gigantic; his shadow was larger than life, but instead of this being frightening to him, it was comforting. Once again they were coming to him with a problem and once again, he was sure to solve it.

  Johnny sensed that the others weren’t as calm and as optimistic as he was. He felt it from the moment they met in front of Miller’s Department Store. They were all so quiet for most of the trip through town and up Highland Avenue. Sheila set the mood of doom when she related to them what Tami Bliskin’s mother told her mother.