by Liz Adair
The smile stayed with Mandy all the way home. She looked forward to Leesie’s return so she could laugh with her sister about it. But Leesie was so late that, by the time she got home, the smile had faded and Mandy had passed through anger to worry. She had the phone book out and was looking up Rael’s number when she heard the familiar sound of Jake’s pickup outside.
When Leesie came in the door, she took one look at Mandy’s fierce countenance and said, “What’s wrong?”
“Do you know what time it is?”
Leesie’s eyes moved to the clock and back. “It’s ten o’clock? Is that the right answer? What’s wrong?”
“What were you doing out until ten?”
“I told you this morning. I had practice.” Leesie went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door, and poured a glass of milk.
“What kind of practice?”
Leesie took a drink. “Band practice,” she said, raising her glass. “We were making moosic.”
Mandy didn’t smile at the pun. All of a sudden, she was out of gas. The staff meeting, her reading program presentation, the round of sparring with Grange, even the stinkbug incident, had all taken a toll, and now she was done. She closed the phone book and put it away in the kitchen cupboard. “I’m going to bed,” she said wearily.
“I’ve got some homework to do,” Leesie said. “See you in the morning.”
Mandy climbed the stairs and got ready for bed. She brushed her teeth and read a few pages from the book on her nightstand, but her eyes grew heavy and she turned out the light. Floating up from below she heard the muted sound of Leesie playing scales on Jake’s guitar, and her last thought before she drifted off to sleep was, This is homework?
MANDY CAME DOWNSTAIRS the next morning to find the kitchen table transformed into a stinkbug. Leesie had apparently found the wings and antennae where Mandy dumped them by the door and had reassembled them.
Leesie looked up from the pot of oatmeal she was now stirring. “What did you think of your car?”
“I thought it was terribly clever,” Mandy admitted. “In fact, I looked forward to sharing it with you all the way home, and then you weren’t here.”
“Oh, Sweetiebug, I’m sorry. It’s awful to have something to share and not be able to, isn’t it? Well, move a wing and sit down. I’ve got breakfast fixed.”
Mandy undid the apparatus and put it back in the corner before sitting at the table. “That Willow is really talented, isn’t she? Did you see how ingeniously this was put together?”
Leesie set a bowl of steaming cereal in front of Mandy. “So you know it was Willow?”
“Yes. I wish you could have seen it on the car. It actually looked like one of those shield bugs.”
“I did see it— or a picture of it, anyway. There was one hanging in the hallway on the bulletin board.” Leesie paused, clearly wondering how her sister would take the news.
Mandy was quiet for a moment. She spooned some sugar in her bowl, added some milk, and stirred. “Leesie—” she began.
Her sister waited for her to go on.
Mandy didn’t look up. “What if I gave up my contract here? What if I didn’t stay?”
“You mean what if you didn’t stay next year? That wouldn’t make any difference to me, because I’ll be off to college anyway. Although…”
“Although what?”
“Jake’s going to do his first two years at the community college downriver, and I’ve been thinking of that, too, rather than New Mexico State. If I did that, I’d want to stay here with you. If I could, that is.”
“But what if I decided not even to stay the rest of this academic year?”
Leesie frowned. “What are you saying? You mean just give up? Because someone dresses up your car like a stinkbug?”
“It’s not that. There are lots of things going on in the district that you don’t know about.” She sighed. “Everything is a battle. I can’t think of a day when I haven’t had to go toe-to-toe with someone over something.”
“Like who? Who’s battling you?”
“Principally Grange Timberlain.”
“Mr. Timberlain? You fight with him?”
“Is that so unbelievable?”
“Well, yeah.” Leesie laughed. “All the girls are just a little bit in love with him. He’s such a hunk.”
“Leesie!”
“Or at least since his face got back to normal, he is. It was a little like Halloween at first— weird and creepy. But he’s been good humored about the whole thing. He’s really a crack-up.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Mandy said.
Leesie stirred her oatmeal. “I do see what you mean, though. You’re not the most popular person at the bus garage. And by the way, I don’t know that I want to go back there for just that reason.”
“You went to the bus garage?”
“Hello? You asked me to. I showed up to organize Mr. Berman’s office yesterday morning, and he was so grouchy and ungrateful.”
Mandy’s brows shot up. “What did he say to you?”
“I can’t remember all the things he said.” Leesie chewed thoughtfully. “It was, like, everything was fine before you came to town. One of the lady bus drivers told me not to worry, that he was just mad because someone came and repossessed his boat, and he’s blaming that on you. But how could that be your fault?”
“It can’t,” Mandy said. “Let me find someone— an adult— to go with you. I promised him some help. I have to deliver, but I don’t want him using you as a scapegoat for his frustrations.”
“I had already decided not to go back.” Leesie cleared the dishes and put them in the sink. “Oh, I brought your clay.”
“You did? Good girl. I forgot I asked you to get me some.”
“Willow got it for me.” Leesie grinned, taking a plastic grocery bag out of her backpack. “You’d better check to make sure it’s clay and not a bag full of snakes.”
Mandy looked inside. “Did Willow know the clay was for me?”
“Sure. Why?” Leesie went into a peal of laughter as Mandy pulled a long, venomous-looking clay snake out of the bag. “I assure you, I didn’t know what she had done when I said that about snakes. That’s too funny!”
“Pardon me if I don’t laugh.” Mandy coiled the snake up and put it back into the bag. “You didn’t answer my question. What if I don’t stay?”
Leesie paused in the act of zipping up her backpack and set it on the table. “It’s not that I can’t go back home. I can do that now, and I’d be all right. But I don’t want to. If you don’t stay, I think I’d see if Granny Timberlain would let me stay with her. Maybe I could work for my board and room. Or maybe Fran would give me a job, so I could pay Granny.”
Mandy frowned. “You’ve only been here five days. In five days you’ve decided you want to stay?”
Leesie grinned. “Crazy, isn’t it? There’s my ride. I’ll be home late again. Practice tonight.” She opened the door, stepped out on the deck, and put her head back through the doorway. “Oh, and I told Rael that we’d go trang with him and Jake and Willow tomorrow. I said you make a mean pot of chili, so you need to make one to take with us. Okay?”
“What’s trang?” But Mandy spoke to empty air. She watched Leesie bound down the stairs and saw Willow smile as she opened the door for her. “Well, what do you know,” Mandy muttered. “She does know how to smile.”
Mandy found her purse, picked up the bag of clay, and went out the door. The sky was its usual gray, but the clouds were high, so she didn’t wear another coat over her suit jacket. She got to work ahead of everyone else and spent some time on the Internet looking for possible grants to fund part of her reading program. “Just in case I decide to stay,” she murmured. She found one site that had something almost tailor-made for what she wanted to do, and she was so intent on reading about the application process that she didn’t hear Grange until he stood in her doorway and rapped on the doorframe.
“May I come in?” He had a file folde
r in his hand.
She eyed him warily. “Yes, of course. I thought you were at the high school all day today.”
“Checking on my whereabouts?” he asked lightly.
She tried to match his tone. “I had a question. I looked to see if you were to be in today. Your calendar said not.”
“What was the question?” He sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk, leaned back, and crossed his legs. His jaw was dark with a two-day’s growth of beard.
“I wondered if the district had someone on staff who’s good at writing grants. Or perhaps a parent?”
“Midge has taken a shot at it a time or two, but she’s never had much success.” Grange tossed the file folder on her desk. “This is more of a sure thing.”
“What is it?”
“Levy.”
“I don’t understand.” Mandy pulled the folder to her and opened it.
“It’s the way a school district in Washington raises money for things the state doesn’t fund. New school busses, special programs, things like that.”
She eyed Grange. “Like music?”
He shook his head. “We’ve got that covered elsewhere.” He nodded toward the folder. “We need to get on this right away. Form a parent committee, submit a budget to them— a compromise between what you’d like to have and what you think the voters will approve.”
“So it’s like a bond election?”
“Yes, without the bonds. It’s to levy a tax to support schools. An election where people vote to tax themselves.”
“Who has done this in the past? Who knows how to do it and could do a good job of pulling it all together?”
The corners of Grange’s mouth lifted wickedly, and there was a twinkle in his eye as he stood. “Nettie Maypole has headed up the levy for the last fifteen years.”
“Nettie Maypole? The Yum Yum Potatoes lady?”
He nodded and paused as Mandy absorbed all the implications of the situation. Then he said, “Well, I’m off to the high school now, unless you have something else you want to discuss.”
She gritted her teeth as she saw how much Grange enjoyed her discomfort. “No thanks. That’s all.” Ignoring him, she began to read the contents of the folder he had brought. When she was sure he was out of the room, she slammed the folder closed and dug her planner out of her purse. Looking through the notes she had made in her calendar at the job fair in Las Vegas, she found the phone number of the man who had acted as agent for North Cascades School District. She used her phone card to make the call.
“Hello? Mr. Skinner? This is Mandy Steenburg. I met you at the job fair in Las Vegas last February. You hired me for the North Cascade School District. Yes, I was the tiny one. Yes, the young one too. Well, it’s a bit of a difficult situation, actually, because it seems they just wanted a figurehead. The former superintendent is my assistant, only he’s not. I was wondering if the job in Chevak is still open?”
Mandy listened for a moment and said, “No, I’m not applying for the position. I just wanted to know if it was still a possibility. I realize it looks bad for me to be leaving this situation so soon, but… No, I think I can be released from my contract. Two members of the school board don’t want me here anyway. Yes, thank you, Mr. Skinner. I’ll let you know.”
She sighed and hung up. Turning back to her computer, she tried to rekindle her enthusiasm for finding a grant for her reading program, but it was heavy going. Finally, she picked up the yellow phone card, found Midge’s number, and invited her up.
At first, the woman was cool to the idea of being put in charge of securing a grant. She’d had no training and didn’t completely understand the process, but as Mandy talked with her and promised to support her, Midge grew willing, even excited, to try again. She went back to her desk with the name of the website, a list of preliminary instructions, and an appointment to meet with Mandy on Monday afternoon to look over what she had done to that point.
After Midge left, Mandy spent several hours immersed in the book she had brought from home the day before. Her studies were interrupted by Mo, who tapped at her door.
He poked his head in. “Do you have a minute?”
She looked up and smiled. “For you, always. Come in.” She closed her book and pushed it to the corner of the desk. “Sit down. What can I do for you?”
He sat on the edge of the chair and clasped a folder in his lap. “First, I want to say I’m sorry about my awful presentation yesterday.”
She waved away his apology. “Don’t give it another thought.”
“I was prepared. I practiced, but I’ve never been good at public speaking.”
“Well, Grange wasn’t the most appreciative of audiences. He certainly put a damper on my reading program proposal.”
Mo rubbed his cheek. “He scared me silly, but he came and apologized.”
“Oh?” Mandy’s brows went up. “When did he do that?”
“First thing this morning. He said he read my paper— which is funny, because I didn’t think he took a copy with him. I know he read it, though, because he asked a couple of pertinent questions.”
“He did?” For some reason, Mo’s news warmed Mandy inside, like sunshine breaking through on a cloudy day. She suppressed a smile and said, “Well, I’m glad, Mo. You had some really good information to share, even if he didn’t seem to listen yesterday.”
Mo shrugged. “That’s all right.”
“So, what did you come in to talk to me about?”
He cleared his throat. “Um, I think I’ve found a way so we don’t have to let any teachers go, and perhaps still help fund your reading program.”
Mandy leaned forward. “Is it legal?” Confronted by Mo’s blank stare, she said, “I was kidding. Tell me where you found all this money.”
He eagerly dragged his chair around to sit beside her desk and spread the contents of the folder in front of her. They spent the next hour and a half discussing each of the pages and doing more research online. At the end of that time, she sat back in her chair. “I’m convinced,” she said. “Now we just have to convince other people.”
“By other people, you mean Grange.” Mo rubbed his cheek again, and Mandy noticed a fuzz of whiskers along his jawline.
“I nominate you to be the one to approach him,” he said.
She smiled. “I accept the nomination. Let’s set the appointment right now.” She opened the calendar page on her computer and looked at Grange’s Monday appointments. “I’ll catch him first thing in the morning. He’s at the high school in the afternoon. Can I have copies of everything in this folder?”
“That’s yours. I made it for you.”
“Thanks.” Mandy laid the folder aside. “So what’s the thing about the whiskers? I thought at first that Grange wasn’t shaving out of pure obstinacy, but I see you’re sprouting a beard, too. There must be some significance.”
“It’s for Opening Festival, the beard-growing contest.”
“What’s Opening Festival?”
Mo smiled. “I imagine it’s pretty frantic at your house with Leesie playing catch-up.”
Mandy frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You mean you really don’t know? I thought you were— when you said, ‘What’s Opening Festival,’ I thought, you know, you were being funny.”
“No. I know nothing about it, and nothing about Leesie playing catch-up, whatever that is.”
Mo cleared his throat. “Well, uh, Opening Festival is a town celebration we have each year to celebrate the opening of the road over the mountains. It’s a huge fundraiser for music in the schools, and the kids have a big part in it, both in planning and putting it on and performing. It’s mostly a bluegrass festival, and we have visiting bands from all over the country.”
“Bluegrass,” Mandy said faintly.
“Yes. Leesie’s playing in one of the bands the school sponsors. I thought you knew.”
“I knew she was going to practice, but I never thought to ask what she was p
racticing. How do you know this?”
“I’ve heard her.”
“What is she playing?” Mandy searched her memory for things she might know about bluegrass and came up with very little.
“All the old standards. ‘Wabash Cannonball,’ ‘Will the Circle Be Unbroken,’ ‘Wildwood Flower’— you know.”
“No, I mean, what instrument?”
“Bass fiddle. She’s good, too, for having just picked it up.”
Mandy shook her curls. “She’s a cellist— it must transfer. But how do you know this, Mo? How did you happen to hear her while I don’t know anything about it?”
“I go to the high school after school and help. I play bluegrass, too. Mandolin. Sometimes I go to Granny Timberlain’s before school to coach them a bit.”
When Mandy looked mystified, Mo explained, “The Timberlains have been playing bluegrass forever. Jake’s group practices there, so Granny can teach them all the old songs she knows.”
Mandy paused a moment to digest that information and then asked, “So, is this Opening Festival something that I need to be involved in?”
“No. It’s Grange’s baby. That’s why he’s spending so much time at the high school right now.”
“Well, that’s a load off my mind.” She picked up the folder Grange had brought. “But here’s something I just discovered I have to do, and I don’t know anything about it. I want you to educate me about the levy.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. We don’t have that process in New Mexico. The state funds everything there.”
“All right.” Mo began to instruct Mandy about the levy system, taking her through the part the district played in the process and, particularly, her role. As he spoke, he drew diagrams on the inside leaf of the file folder.
“I see,” she said when he was finished. She pointed to the triangle that represented the chairman of the citizens’ committee. “Whom do you suggest we choose for this position?”
“Nettie Maypole.”
“Why?”
He held up his index finger. “First, because she knows the ropes. Second, because we’re late getting going on this. We should have been up and running last January.”