“Five dollars! I guess I’m going to have to start brown-bagging it,” he said as he took a big bite out of one of the chili dogs. In between bites, Ron switched topics. “Hey, Mitch, did that folder turn up?”
“Nope.” Bringing up the missing folder caused him temporarily to suspend his filibuster on the unfairness of taking away free lunches. “My June final exam for Modern Novels was in that folder. Sister Ann told me that if it didn’t turn up by the end of the day, I would have to write another one! Does that woman have any idea how long that would take? Of course not, she’s an administrator.” Realizing what he had just said, he pointed to Ron. “No offense, my good man.”
Bishop certainly hoped that the folder had simply been misplaced, but he realized that it was possible that a student had clipped it. As chairman of the English department, he knew that Mitchell recycled tests from year to year, sometimes changing a question or two, but other times just changing the date at the top. Writing a new exam might be a good idea.
“When I told Sister Ann about the missing folder this morning, Sister Meany … I mean, Sister Pat, just stood there laughing. She was laughing so hard I thought she was going to have an asthma attack. If that folder doesn’t materialize, I am going to be screwed big time.” If he was expecting any sympathy from his colleagues in the lunchroom, he was destined to be sorely disappointed. His “woe is me” act had worn quite thin over time.
***
Bishop met with his AP class after lunch. Despite the sugar rush that their junk food diet usually provided them at that time of the day, they were rather subdued as they entered his room.
Tim Kelleher, a young man who had already parlayed his academic achievements into a hefty scholarship to Villanova, had obviously been chosen as spokesman for the class. Given that he was student council president, it was a role with which he was comfortable. “Mr. Bishop, is there any chance that we will be able to get back on the stage? I think that the quality of our presentation would really suffer if we were confined to the classroom.” Several others murmured their agreement.
“Well, I’m not opposed to using the stage, but I want to be sure that everyone is on board with that decision.” He took note of Andrea’s reaction in particular. She was the one who had unfortunately first noticed the body on the storage room floor. She seemed as excited as the others. Bishop had witnessed another example of the resiliency of youth. His students were always teenagers, and each year the gap between him and them widened. When would that gap become a gulf that he could no longer bridge? “All right. That’s settled. Back to the stage tomorrow, but that doesn’t mean that you should waste time today. I want you to break into smaller groups, and see if there are places where you can punch up that script.”
As they tossed around ideas, including bringing in Randall Patrick McMurphy from Ken Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. One suggestion was for McMurphy to deliver the lines of Polonius regarding Hamlet with a twist: “That he is mad, ‘tis true/ ‘Tis true, ‘tis pity./ And pity ‘tis ‘tis true,/ And that goes for Nurse Ratched too.” After the initial laughter, they debated the merits of actually adding that to the script. The class was doing just what he had hoped. They were having fun, being creative, and using critical thinking skills. He thought back to the first day of class when he read the poem, “The Bridge Builder,” by Will Allen Dromgoole. It was the perfect way for him to explain why he was still teaching after all these years. His intent was to build a bridge for them into their futures. At least for this group, he felt confident that the gulf was not too great; they had allowed him to build that bridge.
***
Once the dismissal bell rang, Bishop headed down to Ron’s office. He wanted to know if Ron had checked with Jack, Sister Pat and Terry regarding their keys to the combination locks. Knowing how much was going on, he doubted that Ron had remembered, and was surprised to learn that he had not forgotten.
“Sister Pat was somewhat taken aback by the question, but she told me that she couldn’t remember the last time a student had asked to use her key to get a locker open.”
“That’s not too surprising,” replied Bishop.
“That she couldn’t remember?”
“That no student would ask her,” he said with a smile. “What about Terry and Jack?”
“Terry said that she almost always accompanies the student to the locker so that accounts for that key.”
“And Jack?”
“I didn’t have a chance to talk with him. He’s been super busy trying to keep up with everything. They’ll need to hire another janitor, but I hope they do a better job of vetting the applicants this time.”
Bishop cleared his throat. After a full day of teaching, he sometimes had trouble with his voice. “I was wondering about the set of keys that Hodge returned this morning. Did Ed have one of those keys?”
“Those would have been Duane Davenport’s keys. I doubt that he had one, but let’s check right now.” Ron asked Terry if she knew where Ed’s keys were, and she opened her desk drawer, pulled out the ring, and plopped it in Ron’s hand. “Service with a smile,” she said as she forced a smile.
Ron flipped through the keys twice and said, “Nope. He didn’t have one.”
“He might have removed it from the ring, you know,” offered Bishop.
“Yeah, that’s true.” He thought for a moment, then added, “I haven’t had a locker theft reported in the last two days.”
“You better knock on wood,” Bishop advised as Ron sought out a nearby bookcase on which to rap his knuckles.
Could Ed Cooper have had that key? Could he have been the one responsible for that string of locker thefts? He certainly would have had access to the girls’ locker room after school. The cash might have been quite a temptation for someone just scraping by. And he did tell Debbie that he was coming into some big money. For him, several hundred dollars, and the possibility of more, might seem like big money.
“Let’s go back to my office,” Ron said to Bishop.
“What’s going on that’s so hush-hush?” said Terry, only half teasing.
“Nothing’s going on, and besides, if there was, you’d probably know before me,” he said, only half joking.
When they arrived back at his office, Ron picked up a couple of memos that were on his desk. He quickly scanned each one as he sat down and loosened his tie. Bishop sat in a chair used over the years by hundreds of students who had broken some school rule. Having finished reading the messages, he got up, closed his office door, and sat down again. He had a worried look on his face. “I had a visit from Dan Morehouse this afternoon.”
Bishop thought it unusual for Dan to meet with Ron. Why would a board member want to talk with an assistant principal? The veteran teacher didn’t know Dan very well. He did know that Morehouse Motors was one of the more successful car dealerships in the area. He poured a good sum of money into local advertising using television, radio, billboards, and frequent mailings. He had heard the slogan,“Get more car at Morehouse Motors,” so many times that it didn’t even register with him any more. Dan had become a member of Trinity’s governing body a few months after he had donated a brand new Toyota Prius to the school. That was the way it worked around here. Flash some money in front of Sister Ann, and you became her life-long friend.
“Did his visit have anything to do with the salary freeze announced this morning?”
“I wish it were that simple,” said Ron as he shifted around in his chair to get more comfortable. “He told me that he and a couple of other board members had spent most of the day going over the budget with Sister Ann and Sister Pat. They’ve decided that they need to cut some teachers in order to deal with their financial problems.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” was all a stunned Bishop could manage to say.
“It gets worse, I’m afraid,” said Ron reluctantly.
“Worse? How could it get any worse? This will be devastating for the faculty and for the students as well.”
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“They want you to support their decision and smooth things over with the faculty.”
Bishop looked directly at Ron. His voice was suddenly stronger. “No way! I can tell you right now that that will never happen.” Bishop felt that Sister Ann and Sister Pat had reached a new low. With graduation just a few weeks away, how could they even consider giving any teachers notice? And the surest sign of their delusional thought process was assuming that the teacher with whom they had deep philosophical differences over the years would actually help them dismiss teachers, increase class sizes, and destroy the quality of a Trinity education.
“I told Dan that you would never agree,” said Ron apologetically. He had been backed into a corner by Dan and the nuns. He had to at least broach the topic with Bishop or risk unleashing their wrath on himself.
“Don’t worry about it, Ron. I know that you’re just following orders. It’s just another terrible decision on their part compounded by a glaring lack of communication.”
“You’ll get no argument from me.”
“How many teachers are they planning to cut, and when are they planning on telling them?
“They didn’t say exactly. I got the impression that they want to cut one teacher from each department. I don’t think they plan on making that public until after exams.”
“Did they mention anything about cutting an administrator?”
Ron looked as if the idea had not occurred to him. “Well … no,” he said haltingly.
“Listen, I don’t want you to get fired, but don’t you think that that’s a logical question to ask?”
“Absolutely. It makes sense. I guess I just wasn’t thinking.”
“Don’t worry about it. Listen, I thought that you and I should go back out to Canary Road and offer our condolences to Amy. Why don’t I meet you back here in fifteen minutes? I want to see if Sister Ann is available.”
“I would have thought that would be the last place you’d want to be.”
“Normally, that would be true, but I have an idea.” He didn’t bother to elaborate, and Ron didn’t ask. “Why don’t you see if you can locate Jack before he leaves for the day and ask him about his locker key?”
“Man, you don’t let go, do you?” He admired the relentless determination of his friend.
“No. I guess you’re right about that,” he said as he opened the door to Ron’s office and headed directly for the office of the principal.
***
Bishop knocked at the open door. Sister Ann looked up from the stacks of financial reports on her desk. “Michael, what can I do for you?”
He wasn’t always greeted so cordially, but then again, he wasn’t often asked to assist the administration in dealing with the faculty. “Ron just explained to me that, in addition to the salary freeze, you and the board plan to cut faculty.”
“Sit down for a minute,” she said as she gestured to the uncomfortable wooden chair on the opposite side of her desk. Bishop did as she requested, knowing that it would emphasize her position of authority over him. “Michael, these cuts can’t be avoided. Our finances are a mess right now.”
“I don’t understand how that can happen over night.”
“Actually, neither do I, but facts are facts,” as she gestured to the papers on her desk, and we will have to act decisively.”
“There has to be another way. If you let teachers go, you will destroy morale for those who remain. If you increase class size, you will destroy an effective learning environment which, I don’t need to remind you, is one of the major selling points of this institution.” Hoping to take advantage of the absence of Sister Pat, he spoke calmly but firmly to convince the principal to do what was best for the students.
“I hear what you’re saying, but that doesn’t help me close a $1.2 million gap in our finances,” she replied as she slammed her pen on the desk.
“$1.2 million?” It was inconceivable to Bishop that the finances could be that out of kilter given the infusion of cash from a bequest earlier in the year.
“That’s right. $1.2 million. And I am going to need your help in dealing with the teachers when this news comes out. You’ve been here forever. They’ll listen to you.”
Bishop ignored the ‘been here forever’ comment. She probably hadn’t meant it as a dig since she was asking him to do her a favor. A big favor. “Sister, I’ll help you on one condition.”
Suddenly, she looked hopeful but also cautious. “What condition?”
“I’ll support the decision to cut faculty if you agree to cut one administrator, and that one has to be Sister Pat.” He sat back in his uncomfortable chair, feeling very relaxed.
“How dare you suggest such a thing!” she exclaimed with indignation. Her hands were visibly shaking as she picked up her pen. “Sister Pat was right. She urged me not to ask for your help. I should have listened to her. Please close the door on your way out.” She adjusted the glasses on her nose, grabbed a piece of paper from the stack, and waited for Bishop to leave.
***
When Bishop returned to Ron’s office, Ron was leaning against his desk with his sport coat slung over his shoulder. “How’d it go?”
“Don’t ask. Let’s just say I won’t be on her Christmas list this year as if I was ever on it in the first place. Did you find Jack?”
“Yup. I must have caught him at a bad time. I didn’t realize that he had such a temper. Oh, well. Let’s head out to Amy’s. I’ll tell you about it on the way.”
Chapter Eight
As the two men climbed into Ron’s Nissan, Ron was reminded of something. “Did I tell you that when Dan was leaving my office this morning, he asked me what I was driving. When I told him that I was driving a Sentra, he laughed and promised that he’d give me a great deal on a brand new Prius.”
“I hate to sound like a cynic, but I would be leery of any car salesman offering me a deal.”
“I hear ya. Dan seems like a good guy. Too bad the administration set him up to be the fall guy this morning.”
“I don’t think anyone is really blaming him. They know who calls all the shots around here. I think that if you went through the entire roster of board members, you would find that they have all been carefully selected, either because they have a big bank account or because Sister Ann knows that she can manipulate them to do what she wants when necessary.”
“Maybe she should have gone into politics,” Ron said with a smirk on his face.
“Dictator of a small country would be more like it,” Bishop countered.
Suddenly, Ron pulled into the drive-thru lane of a fast food place. “Mike, what can I get you?”
“Nothing for me. Thanks.”
In a couple of minutes, they were back on the road. After making quick work of a burger and a shake, Ron told Bishop about his earlier conversation with Jack Slater.
“Jack insisted that he hadn’t loaned his keys out to anyone in the last few months. He said that if a student asks him to open a locker, he usually sends them to Terry in the main office because he’s too busy to deal with that stuff.”
“That makes sense.”
“He seemed very defensive when I asked him.”
“How so?”
“He felt that I was implying that he had something to do with the recent string of locker room thefts. He seemed to get madder the more he thought about it. He even threatened to quit if people felt that he couldn’t be trusted.”
“Sorry I put you on the receiving end of that.”
“No problem. It comes with the territory,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders.
Bishop thought about Jack’s response. Perhaps he was a bit on edge considering all that had happened in the last couple of days. He might feel guilty that he had not thought to check the storage area beneath the stage when everyone was looking for Ed. Jack had worked for Holy Trinity for years after retiring from his job with the city. He had never been untrustworthy, and there was no reason to believe that he would start stealing m
oney now. Clearly, his good name was important to him.
Jack’s response reminded Bishop of the response of Iago in Shakespeare’s Othello when Cassio laments the loss of his reputation in the eyes of the noble Moor:
“Reputation is an idle and/most false imposition, oft got without merit and/ lost without deserving.”
Over the years, he had had many good discussions about that insightful comment. Cassio had lost his reputation “without deserving” as Iago had manipulated him into the drinking episode that had resulted in his dismissal. More importantly, Iago had enjoyed a reputation as honest and trustworthy “without deserving.” It was an important lesson for his students to understand. The insight applied not only in literature, but also in life itself. Too often students with a good reputation among the faculty were given a break when guilty of some infraction while students with a poor reputation were assumed guilty and treated more harshly.
***
A spring storm had been brewing, and just as they reached Canary Road, the wind kicked up and heavy drops of rain pelted the car. The ruts and potholes in the road quickly filled with water, and the car lurched along as Ron drove cautiously. When Bishop spotted the number 88 on the stone, he alerted Ron who pulled into the driveway, and they waited a few moments for the deluge to subside. That gave Bishop a moment to consider what he would say to Amy, assuming that she was home and that she would open the door even if she was.
Just as quickly as the storm had arrived, the torrents of rain became little more than a sprinkle. Both men got out of the car, and approached the trailer door, walking carefully so as to avoid the puddles. After firmly knocking on the door, they stood on the crate that served as a step, and waited. Just as Ron was about to knock again, Amy opened the door leaving the broken screen door between them. Today, she sported a Mets T-shirt and khaki walking shorts. She held a wet mop in one hand. Had she been cleaning, or was she thinking of it as a weapon should she need one?
Schooled in Deception: A Michael Bishop Mystery Page 6