by Don Aker
The woman stopped in front of them. “Ms. St. George?”
Jared’s mother looked up, and Jared felt her draw back instinctively. “Yes?” she replied, but her voice sounded tight, much different from the voice Jared was used to.
“Then you must be Jared,” the woman said, turning toward him.
Jared nodded.
“I’m Diana Barnes with Channel 6 News. I was wondering if I could ask the two of you—”
“Excuse me,” his mother interrupted, “but we really don’t wish to speak to reporters. This isn’t a media event. It’s a personal matter.”
The woman looked at her in the same way Jared had seen adults look at him in the past. As though his mother was a kid and this Barnes woman was the adult who knew what was best. “It’s a little naive of you to think that, isn’t it?” She turned and indicated the growing number of people milling about. Two men who had just arrived were setting up a tripod with lights opposite the closed door.
“I’m not sure how this got so blown out of proportion,” Jared’s mother said, “but it’s still a personal matter.”
“Anything that involves a candidate for mayor, especially someone as well known as Skylar Wells, is news, Ms. St. George. May I call you Terri?”
“No, you may not,” and Jared heard in those four words the spirit he was used to hearing in his mother’s voice. “And I really have nothing to say to you. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave us alone.”
The newswoman’s eyes widened. She sniffed, then drew herself up to her full height. In her high heels, she was an imposing figure, close to six feet, and for a moment Jared couldn’t help but think she’d make a terrific basketball player. When the woman spoke again, her voice was icy. “You’ll be on camera whether you want to be or not, Ms. St. George. I’m just offering you an opportunity to tell your side.”
“I believe,” Jared’s mother said evenly, “that’s what the meeting is for.”
The newswoman shook her head as if finding it difficult to believe anyone would say no to being on camera. She looked at her watch, then nodded her head toward the end of the hallway. The elevator doors were just opening. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’re about to see how it’s really done.” She moved off down the hallway, a camera operator and a lighting technician in tow.
From the elevator stepped Rafe and his father, Alderman Skylar Wells. Both wore navy blue suits, Rafe’s a smaller version of the alderman’s but both looking like they cost an arm and a leg. The alderman’s perfect white teeth seemed almost luminous as he flashed them at the cameras pointed in his direction. He paused in his step, allowing the newspeople the opportunity to gather around and ask their questions.
“Alderman Wells, can you tell us the purpose of today’s meeting of the school board?” asked a man in a brown jacket.
“Certainly, Dave. Superintendent Carolyn Janes has convened a special meeting of the board’s executive to address an act of blatant unprofessionalism on the part of a teacher at Cornwallis Middle School.”
“And are you the person who laid the complaint?” the man asked.
“I most certainly am,” the alderman replied. “It was my son, Rafe, here, who brought the actions of this teacher to my attention.” He put his hands on Rafe’s shoulders.
“Rafe,” said another newsperson. “How does it feel to be the centre of so much controversy?”
Even from this distance, Jared could see Rafe struggle to keep from smiling. “It’s not something I like,” he said, “but when a teacher does something wrong, a person needs to stand up for what’s right. Even if it means that people may not like you much for doing it.”
Jared wondered how many times Rafe had practised those two sentences. He pictured Rafe standing in front of a full-length mirror all morning wearing that same suit and saying those same stupid sentences over and over. Jared wanted to kick his butt.
His mother seemed to read his thoughts. She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed gently
“Alderman Wells,” said Diana Barnes, “can you tell us more about the alleged unprofessionalism that resulted in today’s special meeting of the school board?”
Wells shook his head, a sad expression on his face. “Diana, I wish I could go into more detail, but let me just say this. When a teacher makes decisions about students based on personal reasons rather than on sound educational practice, that teacher has no place in the classroom. As my son just said, speaking out for what is right is often not the popular course to follow. But I am committed to doing the right thing, as I have always been. My entire career in the private sector and my years as an alderman have been based on that very principle. What better lesson can we teach our youth today than to speak out against injustice, to speak out against unfairness, to speak out against the kinds of actions that give special consideration to some while ignoring the valuable contributions of others? I say there is no better lesson than that.”
Wells nodded and smiled as cameras flashed and recorders rolled, then he guided Rafe down the hallway toward the boardroom door. Rafe shot Jared a look that showed just how much he was enjoying himself, and Jared felt his mother’s hand squeeze his arm again, this time more tightly. At that moment, the door opened and a man ushered the alderman and his son inside.
Diana Barnes stopped at the door along with the other media people, who were not permitted to enter the boardroom. “That,” she said to Jared’s mother with a mixture of awe and disdain in her voice, “is how it’s done.”
Jared and his mother didn’t need to be in the boardroom to know what Rafe and Skylar Wells were telling the members of the school board. Mr. Keaton had told Jared’s mom most of it on the phone the night before. Rafe, he explained, had found out that the teacher had allowed Jared to rewrite the test, and Rafe was telling everyone that it was because Mr. Keaton was dating Jared’s mother. He’d seen them walking together in the park one day. Only briefly, but long enough to realize he wasn’t witnessing a parent-teacher interview.
Jared had been dumbfounded by the news. Mr. Keaton and his mother? Dating? Apparently, that bizarre parallel universe was working overtime.
But the news about his mother’s new boyfriend hadn’t been nearly as unsettling as its implication. “So you convinced him to let me rewrite the test,” he said to her the night before. He looked down at the living room carpet, stained and worn in so many places. His mother had often commented about wanting to replace it, but there was never enough money. “If you don’t look too closely,” she’d said after going over their household budget yet again, “it doesn’t seem so bad.” But Jared was looking closely, and it looked crummy. Which exactly described the way he felt. He probably hadn’t made eighty-eight percent on the test after all. All of this was just one big joke. On him.
His mother reached across the sofa to him, tried to put her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her off, got up and walked to the window and stood there looking out at the night. “Jared,” she said from the sofa, “despite what you’re thinking, I didn’t ask Ron to let you rewrite it. I’d never do that.”
Ron! He’d never have imagined her using his teacher’s first name, either. It sounded weird. Before this year, he’d never even thought of teachers having first names. And now his mother was dating one. His.
“Honey,” she continued, “I didn’t even know you’d failed it until he called with the news, and by then he’d already decided to give you the second test.”
But this didn’t make Jared feel any better. “So what? He was doing it for you, anyway.”
His mother came up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, turning him around to face her. “Do you really think that’s the kind of man Ron is? That that’s the kind of thing he would do?”
Jared looked down at the carpet again. “I dunno,” he said.
“I think you do.” She gave him a nudge. “And even if you didn’t, do you think I’d want to go out with a man who would do something like that?”
Jared sh
rugged again.
“Are you forgetting DVD Guy?” she asked.
As miserable as Jared was feeling at that moment, he had to smile at her. “No,” he admitted, “I guess you wouldn’t want to go out with a guy like that.”
“Well, I’m glad we agree on that much,” she said. Pushing aside her carefully folded laundry, his mother sat back down on the sofa and patted the cushion beside her. When Jared sat down too, she took both his hands and looked him straight in the eyes. “You know, it was for this very reason that I didn’t tell you I was seeing him. He wanted me to tell you, but I didn’t want you or anyone else to think you were getting special treatment.” She squeezed his hands. “Ron let you rewrite the test because someone went to see him and convinced him it was the right thing to do. End of story.”
“Who, then?” Jared asked.
“He wouldn’t say. He told me he’d given his word that he wouldn’t tell.”
“Coach Jamieson?”
“Maybe. Probably. I don’t think it matters. What does matter is that Ron decided you deserved another chance to show him what you’d learned. And you did.” She smiled wryly. “You know, Jared, he said on the phone that he marked the rewrite much harder than the first test. And I believe him.”
Jared’s face mirrored his surprise. “He told me it was a harder test.”
“See? He didn’t take it easy on you. And I wouldn’t have wanted him to.”
Jared nodded. “So what’s all the fuss about?”
His mother let go of his hands and sighed. “Just before Ron left his classroom this afternoon, the principal came to see him about a phone call he’d gotten from the superintendent of schools. The superintendent told him she’d received a complaint about unfair treatment. There’s going to be a special meeting of the school board tomorrow afternoon to look into it.”
“Tomorrow? That’s Saturday. Who meets on a Saturday?”
His mother reached for the folded clothes and began piling them neatly in the hamper. “Ron said it almost never happens. The one time he’s heard about was an emergency.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “Apparently, someone with a lot of pull made it happen.”
Jared whistled. “Jeez, is Mr. Keaton in trouble?”
“Well, he didn’t do anything wrong.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
His mother looked at him and smiled, but it was a hollow, fleeting expression.
This time it was Jared who squeezed her hands. “It’s gonna be okay, Mom,” he said.
Now, though, Jared wasn’t so sure. Mr. Keaton had called that morning with an update, saying he’d learned it was Rafe’s father who had lodged the complaint. He’d heard it on the news, a twenty-second blurb about Alderman Wells waging a personal campaign for integrity in education. Ordinarily, information about disputes like this didn’t make it into the media, but Skylar Wells had decided to go public because he felt his family’s privacy wasn’t as important as the ethical issue involved. The name of the teacher in question wouldn’t be released—but all the students in 6K would know immediately that the story was about Mr. Keaton.
“So all this is just about Rafe not getting to play for the Cougars, isn’t it?” Jared had asked his mother that morning.
“I think that’s certainly part of it,” she had replied.
And now Jared understood clearly what the other part was. It was about Skylar Wells getting to stand in front of TV cameras. He’d already done it when he donated the computers to the school, and now he was doing it again. Not only was he generous beyond belief, he was concerned for the educational well-being of every child in the city. What better person could there be for mayor than Skylar Wells?
Jared wanted to throw up.
Just then the boardroom door opened and a man beckoned for them to enter.
CHAPTER 24
“Jared, do you know why we’ve requested that you and your mother come here today?” asked the woman sitting opposite him. She had introduced herself as Carolyn Janes, Superintendent of Schools, and the men on her left and right as Assistant Superintendent Richard Wilcox, and Director of Human Resources Chandra Malavi. Jared thought about how many decisions these three people made every day that directly affected him and students like him, yet this was the first time he had laid eyes on any of them.
At the far end of the table sat Mr. Keaton and a woman who was introduced as his teachers’ union representative, Sandra Conrad. Mr. Keaton had already given his statement, and he was allowed to listen to the statements of the various parties involved, but he was not permitted to ask questions or to comment. It was clearly the three people sitting across from Jared who were in charge of the proceedings.
Jared looked at his mother, who sat beside him at the table, and he nodded his head. It was the longest, widest table he’d ever seen. You could put every kid in 6K around that table and still have room for some of the Cougars. “You want me to tell you about the math test I rewrote,” he replied. He wondered what Rafe had told these people. Rafe and his father had left before Jared and his mother had entered the room.
“Actually,” the woman said, “we’d like you to tell us how you came to write it.”
Jared looked again at his mother, who smiled her support, then proceeded to tell them about how poorly he’d done on the first test and how his basketball coach, Mr. Jamieson, had encouraged him to ask for a rewrite.
“Did you think that was a fair request?” asked Mr. Malavi, who was writing notes on a thick pad of paper.
“I told him I didn’t think Mr. Keaton would let me do it because he said at the beginning of the year he only lets students rewrite quizzes, not tests.”
“But Mr. Jamieson coaxed you to ask Mr. Keaton anyway,” said Mr. Malavi.
Jared frowned. “I don’t know about coaxed. He said it was worth a shot. The worst that could happen was Mr. Keaton would say no.” Jared smiled over at the teacher, and the teacher smiled in return.
“But, instead, he said yes,” clarified Ms. Janes.
Jared was surprised by her statement. “No, he didn’t. He said no.”
Ms. Janes looked confused, and glanced down at the pad of paper in front of her. It undoubtedly contained notes from her conversation with Rafe and his father. “Excuse me?” she asked. “He said no?”
Jared nodded.
It was Mr. Wilcox, the assistant superintendent, who spoke next. “But then Mr. Keaton changed his mind and said yes.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” said Jared.
Mr. Wilcox scowled at him, and Jared got the feeling that Mr. Wilcox was annoyed that Jared was taking so much of his valuable time. “So, just to be clear, before you left Mr. Keaton’s office, you made arrangements to rewrite the test.”
Jared shook his head. “No. Did Rafe tell you that?”
Mr. Malavi spoke up. “There seems to be a discrepancy between what Rafe had to say and what Mr. Keaton has told us. We’re hoping you can clear this up.”
Now Jared was getting annoyed. Rafe had been listening outside Mr. Keaton’s classroom that afternoon, so he knew the teacher had said no. Had Rafe lied to them? “What happened was, I asked Mr. Keaton if I could rewrite the test and he told me no.”
“And that’s all?” Ms. Janes asked.
“Well, we talked a bit about why he felt he couldn’t let me do it, but yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
“I’m confused,” said Mr. Malavi. “You did rewrite the test, didn’t you?”
Jared nodded. “Mr. Keaton called later that day and said he’d changed his mind.”
“Did he tell you why?” asked Ms. Janes.
“He said the next day that he’d listened to some pretty good arguments about why he should let me rewrite it.”
“And who made those arguments?”
Jared shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Ms. Janes looked at Jared’s mother. “Ms. St. George, are you the person who persuaded Mr. Keaton to change his mind?”
Jared could feel his mot
her grow tense. “No,” she replied, “I am not.”
Mr. Wilcox frowned. “You can see, can’t you, how we might find that difficult to believe, given your personal relationship with Mr. Keaton?”
Jared heard a sudden intake of breath beside him. “And you can see, can’t you,” she replied, “how I might find that question offensive?” Jared could hear anger flare beneath her words. Good for you, Mom, he thought.
Ms. Janes quickly spoke up, her tone softer than Mr. Wilcox’s, but her manner much the same. “It’s not our intention to offend anyone, Ms. St. George, but someone spoke to Mr. Keaton and said something that changed a policy he has adhered to for several years and even put into writing for parents. Doesn’t it seem reasonable that you might have been that person, given that you and Mr. Keaton now see each other socially and Jared needed to make a good mark on that test to continue playing basketball?”
His mother’s face was as red as Jared had ever seen it, including the morning when DVD Guy suggested she was the sort of person who’d welcome having stolen electronics in her home. He saw her grip the edge of the table, and for a moment he thought she might actually get up from her chair and let loose. But she didn’t. “I’d like to ask a question, if I may.”
“By all means,” said Ms. Janes.
“Isn’t a teacher’s policies in the classroom his own business? I find it hard to believe so much uproar has been caused by something as insignificant as allowing a student to rewrite a test.”
Ms. Janes nodded. “Mr. Keaton is well within his rights as a teacher to assess his students as he sees fit. It isn’t his decision to allow Jared to rewrite the test that we’re calling into question. We’re questioning why he did so. If there has been some impropriety here, we need to address it.”
Mr. Wilcox had more to add on the subject. “Teachers shape their students in many ways, not only educating them through the lessons they teach but also acting as role models in the way they live their lives in relation to their students. Actions often speak louder than words, and if Mr. Keaton has acted inappropriately, there are consequences for such actions. Regardless of how you feel personally toward Mr. Keaton—”