The Five Paths

by Isobel Bird

  “So your friend really believes this witch stuff?” Brian asked as he ate.

  “Yes,” said Annie. “She does.” And so do I, she thought guiltily.

  “I’ll have to remember to watch my step around her,” Brian replied. “I wouldn’t want her to put a curse on me or anything.”

  He laughed at his own joke. Annie laughed, too, feeling like a gigantic traitor. Just tell him! the voice in her head screamed. She knew Brian wasn’t making jokes about Cooper because he was a mean person. He just didn’t understand that to her—and to Annie and a lot of other people—witchcraft was very real. How could she make him understand that? Correction, she thought. How can you make him understand that without losing him?

  “Well, whatever,” said Brian. “She can think whatever she wants to. I’m not dating her, right? I’m dating you.”

  So much for that idea, Annie thought miserably.

  “Right,” she said.

  She couldn’t believe it. She had chickened out. Here she’d been telling Kate how she had to be more honest with the people in her life and she couldn’t even do it herself. What was wrong with her? She’d never been shy about speaking her mind. Why couldn’t she tell Brian about her involvement in the Craft? He was going to read about it in the paper on Monday anyway. She was just putting off the inevitable.

  I’ll tell him, she assured herself. Right after dinner.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Now that we’ve heard Coach Richmond’s report, we need to vote on the motion to allocate funds for the purchase of new football uniforms,” Mr. Dunford said. “All in favor?”

  Six hands went up. Mr. Dunford looked at who they belonged to and made a note on the paper in front of him.

  “That’s six ayes and one nay,” he said. “The motion passes, with Allison Chisolm voting against.”

  Cooper looked at the four men and three women sitting at the long table at the head of the room. She’d never been to a school board meeting before. If she hadn’t had a personal stake in the session she would probably have fallen asleep from sheer boredom. In the hour that had elapsed since she and her father had arrived, the board had talked about a series of mundane topics, from how much to increase the head janitor’s salary to whether they should paint the girls’ rest rooms off-white or blue.

  Aside from Cooper and her father, there were only a couple of other people in the room. Most of them were there because they had something to say about the various issues. Principal Browning was seated in a folding chair a few rows ahead of Cooper and her dad. She’d smiled at Cooper when they’d come in but hadn’t talked to them. Cooper guessed she was trying to show that she wasn’t favoring one side over the other in the discussion that was about to come.

  “This is worse than going to the ballet,” Cooper’s father whispered.

  Cooper stifled a laugh. She studied the seven school board members. Some she knew, but she was seeing others for the first time. The ones she’d met before were Allison Chisolm, Jacob Weingarten, Ellen Tracy, and Marty Dunford. Allison Chisolm, who had just voted against buying new football uniforms, ran a yoga center and health spa in town. Cooper had gone there a couple of times for classes. She knew Jacob Weingarten as Professor Weingarten. He taught philosophy at Jasper College, and he’d come to some of her parents’ parties. He was a strange man, and she seldom understood what he was talking about, but she liked him. Ellen Tracy was the mother of Gregory Tracy, one of Cooper’s classmates. And Marty Dunford, the board president, ran one of the town’s most popular hardware stores.

  She’d never met the other three members before. Constance Reeder was an older woman with a serious expression. She listened carefully to everything that was said, took notes, and nodded a lot. Hector Alvarado was a local businessman who, her father told her, ran a printing company in town. The final member of the board was someone Cooper wasn’t in any hurry to be introduced to. She’d never met Ralph Adams in person, but she was sure that they wouldn’t get along. For one thing, he looked mean. He looked as if he’d never smiled in his life. He sat behind the table with his arms folded across his chest, glaring at everyone. That alone was enough to make Cooper want to steer clear of him. But even worse, he was the father of Sherrie Adams, which to Cooper instantly put him in the category of enemy.

  Her father had explained to her before they arrived that the board would ask to hear arguments from both sides, which in this particular case was Cooper and Principal Browning. The board members would then debate the issue among themselves and decide what to do. It seemed straightforward enough to Cooper, but she didn’t know what the outcome would be. She knew that secretly Mrs. Browning was on her side, but the principal had already made it clear that whatever her personal feelings about the matter were she had to consider the feelings of the other students and their parents.

  “Okay,” Marty Dunford said. “We have one final piece of new business, then. This is the question Principal Browning has brought before us about the right of a student to wear a potentially offensive symbol. Principal Browning, would you like to tell us what this is all about?”

  The principal stood up. “Recently one of our students, Cooper Rivers, began wearing a necklace to school that features a symbol that other students find unsettling,” Mrs. Browning said. “After one teacher and several students and their parents expressed their concerns to me, I asked Miss Rivers to stop wearing the necklace. She refused. I informed her that her refusal to comply with my request would result in suspension. She chose suspension. Then, after a meeting with her and her father, I suggested that we bring the matter before the board.”

  Principal Browning sat down. Marty Dunford nodded and looked at Cooper. “Is that what happened, Miss Rivers?” he asked.

  Cooper stood up, as did her father. “Yes,” Cooper said simply.

  “And just what is this symbol you’ve been wearing?” Mr. Dunford asked.

  “It’s called a pentagram,” Cooper explained. She walked toward the table where the board was sitting and held out her hand to Mr. Dunford. She’d removed her necklace at the suggestion of her father, and now she handed it to the board president to look at.

  “As you can see, it’s a five-pointed star,” Cooper said as Mr. Dunford looked at it and then passed it to Mrs. Reeder.

  “And does it have some meaning?” asked Ms. Chisolm, who was examining the necklace as it was passed to her.

  Cooper swallowed. This was the part she and her father had gone over numerous times during the days before the meeting. “It represents the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water,” Cooper said. “The fifth point represents spirit.”

  “I don’t see how that could be offensive,” Ms. Chisolm said as she handed the pentacle to Mr. Alvarado.

  Cooper didn’t respond. Her father had told her not to bring up the connection between the pentagram and Wicca until she had to. Then Mrs. Browning stood up again.

  “The pentagram is a symbol associated with witchcraft,” she said, sounding as if she really didn’t want to tell the board that information. “Some people also associate it with black magic or Satanism. Seeing Miss Rivers wearing it upset several students.”

  Professor Weingarten had taken the pentacle and was peering at it closely over his glasses. He looked at Cooper and smiled, which made her feel slightly more relaxed. “I hardly think Miss Rivers is advocating devil worship, are you, Miss Rivers?”

  “No,” Cooper said.

  “Then why wear something associated with it?” asked Mrs. Tracy, who was holding the pentacle by the cord and not touching it as she looked at it.

  “I don’t associate it with those things,” Cooper said calmly. “Other people do.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Mrs. Tracy replied. “What do you associate it with?”

  “With Wicca,” Cooper said reluctantly.

  “Wicca?” Mr. Dunford said. “What’s that?�
��

  Mr. Rivers stepped to his daughter’s side. “Wicca is a spiritual tradition,” he explained. “It’s a nature-based religion.”

  “Religion?” Mr. Alavardo repeated, sounding skeptical. “How come I’ve never heard of it?”

  “Many people haven’t,” Mr. Rivers explained. “I myself hadn’t until Cooper educated me.”

  “Do you approve of your daughter’s wearing this symbol, Mr. Rivers?” asked Mrs. Reeder.

  Cooper’s father nodded. “Yes,” he said. “It’s something that’s important to her, and I see nothing wrong with it.”

  “But Principal Browning says that she’s had some complaints about it,” Mr. Dunford said.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Browning said. “Several. People are concerned that seeing the symbol is distracting and upsetting to some students, even though to Cooper I’m sure its meaning is entirely positive.”

  Mr. Dunford nodded. “What do you all think?” he asked the other members of the board.

  “I don’t see anything at all wrong with it,” Professor Weingarten said instantly. “I think that if it genuinely means something to Miss Rivers she should be allowed to wear it.”

  “What if she wanted to wear a Nazi swastika?”

  Cooper looked to see who had asked the question. It was Ralph Adams. He was holding her pentacle and looking at Mr. Weingarten.

  “But it isn’t a swastika,” the professor protested.

  “What if it was?” Mr. Adams asked doggedly. “What if she wanted to wear a necklace with a swastika on it? Would that bother you?”

  “Yes, it would bother me,” Professor Weingarten answered. “I lost many relatives to the Nazis in the war. It would upset me to see someone wearing a symbol associated with them.”

  “But the swastika wasn’t always a Nazi symbol,” said Mr. Adams. “It’s actually a Hindu religious symbol meaning ‘let good prevail.’ ”

  “But that’s not what people see it as today,” said the professor.

  “Exactly,” said Mr. Adams, smiling for the first time. “So it’s not what it really means that’s important, it’s what people think it means. If people see this pentagram and think of black magic and Satanism, it doesn’t really matter if it actually stands for this Wicca stuff. Do you see what I’m saying?”

  Mr. Weingarten nodded reluctantly. “I understand,” he said. “But I don’t think this is the same thing.”

  “Why not?” Ellen Tracy asked. “We would never let a student wear a swastika because it might offend other students. Why should Miss Rivers be allowed to wear a symbol that frightens or angers other students?”

  “We see this as a matter of both freedom of speech and freedom of religious expression,” Mr. Rivers said quickly before anyone else could speak.

  “Excuse me for saying so,” said Mr. Alvarado, “but if I’ve never heard of Wicca I bet a lot of people haven’t. It’s hard for me to accept that it’s a religion like, say, Judaism or Islam.”

  “And even if this is a religious symbol,” Mrs. Reeder said, “that doesn’t necessarily protect it as far as wearing it in school is concerned.”

  Cooper looked at her father. He had a strained expression, and she knew he was angry and trying not to show it. She was angry, too. Some of the board members were talking as if Wicca were some kind of joke instead of a real thing. Even Professor Weingarten, who had seemed to be her strongest supporter, had backed down. Thanks to Sherrie’s dad, Cooper thought bitterly. If it hadn’t been for what Mr. Adams had said about the swastika, no one would have thought of that. But he had brought it up, and now he seemed very pleased with himself. He was looking at Cooper with almost a look of triumph in his eyes. Cooper wondered just what he knew about her. Whatever it was, it was probably lies made up by his daughter.

  “I understand about protecting students from being offended,” Ms. Chisolm said forcefully. “I know I don’t like to see things that I disagree with either. But don’t you think we’re maybe underestimating them here?”

  “What do you mean, Allison?” asked Mrs. Tracy.s

  “We’re saying that we have to protect them from this symbol,” said the other woman. “But how are they going to learn what different people think or believe if we keep them in this sterile little cocoon?”

  “Why should they learn about it?” Mr. Adams barked.

  “So they learn to be more tolerant,” answered Ms. Chisolm pointedly.

  “I don’t think having some students parading around in witchcraft symbols is going to teach tolerance,” Mr. Adams said derisively. “It just teaches them that anything goes.”

  Cooper wanted to scream at him. Actually, she wanted to slap him. But she stood in place, clenching her fists so that the nails dug into her palms. Mr. Adams was railroading the board, and he knew it. She could tell that he didn’t know the first thing about witchcraft or what it was. He was simply being a jerk. Just like those judges who presided over the witchcraft trials during the Inquisition and at Salem Village, she thought. I bet he’d like to see me burned at the stake, too.

  While everyone was talking, Mr. Dunford had been looking at a small book that sat on the table next to him. Now he held up his hand. “According to the official school bylaws,” he said, reading from the book, “ ‘No student may wear clothing or jewelry featuring gang symbols, offensive words or messages, images promoting sexism, racism, homophobia, or other kinds of bias, or images or wording that may cause other students to feel unsafe or uncomfortable in the school environment.’ We adopted that definition two years ago after one of the senior boys wore a shirt with a Confederate flag on it and several students complained that it was associated with racist causes.”

  He shut the book and looked at the other board members. “I agree with Jacob that I don’t think Cooper means anything negative by wearing this necklace,” he said. “But if we banned the Confederate flag because it made kids uncomfortable I think this might fall into the same category.”

  “But the Confederate flag is not a religious symbol,” reasoned Mr. Rivers. “What about Cooper’s right to practice her religion?”

  “You haven’t convinced me that this is a real religion,” Mr. Alvarado said. “Personally, I don’t think that it is, so I don’t see how we can justify letting your daughter wear this necklace.”

  “If it’s a symbol of witchcraft I don’t think it should be allowed anyway,” added Mrs. Tracy. “Kids come to school to learn reading, writing, math, science, and history. Real subjects. They don’t come to learn about witchcraft. I don’t want my child being exposed to that, even if some parents think it’s acceptable.”

  She gave Cooper’s father a long look as she spoke. Cooper knew what she was thinking. Her father was a bad parent for letting her experiment with Wicca. She knew that’s what Mrs. Tracy would call it, experimenting. She’s so narrow-minded her head could slip through a mail slot, Cooper thought.

  “I think we should vote,” Mr. Dunford said. “I guess the motion will be to uphold Principal Browning’s decision to ban the wearing of pentacles at Beecher Falls High School. All in favor?”

  Mrs. Tracy, Mr. Alvarado, Mrs. Reeder, and Mr. Dunford all raised their hands. Mr. Adams was the last to put his in the air, and Cooper couldn’t help but think that it was more like he was raising his fist in triumph.

  “All against?” said Mr. Dunford.

  Professor Weingarten and Ms. Chisolm raised their hands.

  “You’re just voting against everything tonight, aren’t you, Allison?” Mr. Dunford said jovially as he wrote down their votes in his notebook. Then he looked up at Cooper. “The motion has passed,” he said. “I’m sorry, Miss Rivers, but you’ll have to stop wearing this necklace.”

  “Or what?” asked Cooper defiantly.

  “Or else you can’t come back to school,” said Mr. Dunford sadly.

  Cooper snorted. “That’s it?” she said.
“You guys get to decide and no one else gets to have a say?”

  The board looked at her in surprise. She stared back at them, daring them to say something. She was in a fighting mood, and she was ready to take on anyone and everyone. As she looked at each of their faces she saw that Ms. Chisolm was smiling slightly while the others either looked away or glared at her with open hostility for daring to speak to them in such a manner.

  “You can always request a revote,” Mr. Dunford said finally. “But in order to do that you need a petition signed by at least one hundred and fifty students in support of your request. If you can get that, then we’ll rehear your case, along with any new evidence you have to support your argument, and we’ll revote.”

  Like any of you are going to change your minds, she thought, but what she said was, “When’s the next meeting?”

  Mr. Dunford looked at his notes. “Friday, September the thirtieth,” he said.

  “That doesn’t give you much time,” her father said, leaning over to whisper so that the board couldn’t hear their conversation. “I say we threaten them with a lawsuit.”

  “Not yet,” Cooper replied. “I want to do this my way.”

  Her father smiled at her and nodded. Cooper knew he was proud of her for standing up to the board on her own.

  “Fine,” she said to Mr. Dunford. “I’ll get that petition. Thank you for your time. May I have my pentacle back now?”

  She walked briskly to the table, held out her hand, and took the necklace from Mr. Dunford. As the board watched she put it around her neck and knotted the cord in the back.

  “Please be aware that you cannot wear that necklace to school until this is decided once and for all,” Mr. Dunford reminded her.

  Cooper didn’t answer. She turned and walked back to where her father stood.

  “I guess this meeting is adjourned, then,” Mr. Dunford said. “I’ll see you all on the thirtieth.”