by MK Schiller
* * * *
She didn’t come to class, but her essays appeared in my mailbox. The one on The Raven was a train wreck and gave me no clues whether she was my Lenore or the raven tapping at my door. It was as if she was throwing the assignment. Her papers on Moby Dick and the Hardy novel were much more detailed, but provided no real insights. I wondered if her absence was due to the exam scheduled for today. Did she think I might recognize her slanted handwriting on the essay questions?
It was a stretch to think that way, but it didn’t stop me from glancing at her empty seat or the closed doorway of the classroom. About an hour into the two-hour class, a knock came that had me springing from my chair as if it was a hotplate.
I sighed in disappointment, staring at Roy Adkins and three other boys I’d nicknamed the Asshole Alliance.
“Mr Adkins, I’m afraid I’m very busy right now proctoring an exam. I believe you boys received an invitation to attend. Is this your idea of fashionably late?”
His lip twitched into a tight grimace. “We’re sorry, Professor…er… Mr…”
“Cal, just Cal,” I said not hiding my irritation.
“We just ran late.” He made a move to come into the classroom, but I blocked the door. The arrogant sense of entitlement they exhibited pissed me off, and I was already in a bad mood.
“You are over an hour late. You don’t have enough time to take the exam and I don’t have the inclination to let you.”
He stood back, a slight sneer forming on his pimply face. It was clear the Asshole Alliance had no respect for me, my class or their education. I’d worked hard on my elocution. It was necessary in my profession, especially living this far north, but occasionally my Texas shone through. Funny, women found the accent charming and sexy. Men, though, thought it signaled stupidity. These boys were no exception, often responding with snickers and eye-rolls when I let a Texasism slip through my lecture.
“It wasn’t our fault,” Roy explained, acting as the group’s spokesperson.
“I’m sensing a story here, but I’m afraid I do not have the time to indulge you.”
“Just a minute, please.”
Curious, I closed the door and stepped out into the hallway. I glanced at my watch. “Sixty seconds starts now.”
“We were on our way, but this old lady was stuck on the side of the road. We stopped to help her. Her car battery died. She had an old car so it took us a while to jump it, but luckily I took mechanics in high school and all of us know cars.”
“Well, I guess chivalry is not dead. Goodbye.”
“Wait, sir. Please. What would you have done? Are you honestly punishing us for being Good Samaritans?”
I glanced at the four of them. Did they really think I was dumb enough to believe that it had taken them an hour to jump a car? Or that I’d missed the stench of stale beer on their breath, and the red-rimmed eyes they all sported, indicative of a night consisting of heavy partying?
“So y’all drive together?” I asked, emphasizing the y’all.
“Yes, yes we do,” he replied with hope. The other boys all nodded and murmured in agreement, making it clear they either thought they were superior in their intelligence or I was gullible in mine.
“And were you able to help her? The elderly woman?”
“Yes, we were. She’s safe and back on the road. Can we make up the test?”
“Mr Adkins, the syllabus, and I know you’re very familiar with it, specifically states there are no makeup exams in my class.”
“But, Cal, surely you can make an exception for an extenuating circumstance like this. I mean, what would you have done? Left her on the side of the road?”
“Perhaps called the auto club and explained I had to get to school for an important test?”
“She was scared.”
I made a move to open the classroom door, but his voice stopped me with one last plea. “I need this class. I can’t fail another or my parents are going to cut me off.”
“Is that supposed to appeal to me on some level, Mr Adkins?”
“No, but what we did should.”
I regarded them for a moment, almost grateful their little intrusion occupied my mind for a brief moment. “I’ll think about it. Come back after class and I’ll let you know my answer.”
They all nodded, thanking me profusely. Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.
My class all shuffled out once the exam was over, and the four of them strutted in, not hiding their wide smirks. Hell, they didn’t even hide the fact that they had stayed sat in the hallway studying like fiends while the exam took place.
Roy stood around my desk. “So can we take the exam?”
“You realize it would be rather unfair to the rest of the class who came on time.”
“Yes, but we took the moral high road, knowing it may bite us.” The moral high road? He was laying it on thick. “If you don’t let us take the exam, you’ll be supporting the lack of compassion that plagues our society.” If only he worked this hard on his papers.
“Well, Mr Adkins, I would never want to be one of the forces responsible for our society’s downfall. I tell you what, I’ll allow y’all to take the exam.” They all beamed wide smiles of relief, turning to each other with silent but apparent glee as if they had crossed home plate without the benefit of running the other bases. In true ump fashion, I geared up to call them out. “On one condition.”
“What condition?”
“I want you to take a pretest. If you pass it, I’ll give you the real exam.”
“A pretest?” one of them questioned. Roy held his hand up, gesturing his buddy to shut up.
“It’s only one question. I don’t even expect a complete sentence. Do y’all agree?”
“Sure, that’s fair,” Roy said. “Thank you, sir.”
“I’m a fair man. After all, I have a mother and if she were to ever find herself stranded, I should hope some fine young men like yourselves would step in.”
They went to take their usual seats. “No, I need you to spread out. Each of you take a seat in one of the four corners.” After some awkward shuffling, they complied.
“Take out a blank sheet of paper. I will give you the question orally, but you must write the answer down. If anyone blurts out an answer you are disqualified. If anyone fails the pretest, none of you can take my exam.”
“That seems unfair,” Roy whined.
“You’ll find life to be unfair, Mr Adkins. After all, I should be reaching home about now, watching the play-by-play of the Cowboys game on ESPN, but instead I’m here with y’all. Do we agree to the terms?”
A brief silence followed by unanimous nods responded.
“Good. Ready for your question, gentlemen?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“Shoot,” Roy said, not hiding his smirk.
Batter up, boys. I’m about to throw you a curve ball.
“What was the make and model of her car?”
Stunned silence greeted me.
“What?”
“The lady you helped.”
“We… We don’t remember,” Roy said. Funny how he knew all of them didn’t remember.
Strike one.
“In the hallway, you told me you were all good with cars. Surely you’d remember, especially one that you worked on for over an hour.”
“It was an older car. One they don’t make anymore,” Roy stammered. I had to hand it to him. He was quick on his feet, but my mind could run faster than his any day.
“I see. How about a color? Do y’all remember the color?”
“What if it was multi-colored?” the kid in the back asked. I smiled, amused by his reasoning. If it was multi-colored then multiple answers would be correct.
“I don’t know how many elderly women drive rainbow-colored cruisers, but then again I wasn’t there.” I gestured to all of them. “Y’all were. If that’s the case, then tell me each and every color.”
“It was—”
“Not out loud. On your paper
.”
Their pens poised in mid-air, followed by aggravated sighs of frustration.
Strike two.
“Care to venture a guess, gentlemen? Or can we finish this little exercise?”
Roy crumpled his paper, not hiding his animosity at being called out. I knew from his grades that missing this test was an auto fail for him.
I cleared my throat, gathering my materials. “I hope you all learned a valuable lesson today.”
“What? Not to lie?” Roy asked, the pretense of politeness gone from his voice.
“I was thinking more along the lines of…don’t be late to my class,” I said through clenched teeth.
Strike three. You’re out.
They all stood, no doubt doubly pissed they had just spent the last hour cramming for a test they would never take and aggravated about a class they would have to retake. I didn’t tell them the lesson I was really trying to teach them. They might not remember Wolfe, Homer or Poe after my class, but they sure as hell would remember this: Southern was not synonymous with stupid.
Chapter Seven
Excerpt from Raven Girl
Age 14
I was on a total high from my awesome day and it was just going to get better. There was a bonfire tonight at the big lake, with promises of girls in bikinis and guys throwing around a football. I was excited for it, but sad too because I didn’t think Sylvie would come. She never came to anything. I decided to go find her before I left. I hadn’t talked to her all day. I knew she’d be by the lake fishing.
I sat next to her on the dock. She wore a yellow dress today with white flowers on it. Her hair was loose, which was rare. The wind picked up and it snapped strands across her face, carrying her sweet scent in my direction. She had my old fishing pole out in the water, swinging her legs.
“Hey, girl.” It was my usual greeting.
“Hiya, Tex.” I wasn’t sure when she’d started calling me Tex, but it had stuck. Truthfully, I really liked it.
“Catch anything?”
“Nope, not yet.” We sat for a while staring at the water that was still casting a reflection of the hot Texas sun overhead. It acted as a mirror and I loved that because it allowed me to look at her reflection without making it obvious. She turned and smiled brightly at me. “Congratulations on making the football team. I hear they’re going to start you. That’s pretty rare for a freshman, isn’t it?”
I knew I was smiling way too cocky for my own good, but I couldn’t help it. Pride was a sin and I was guilty as hell. “No freshman has ever been starting quarterback in the history of Prairie Marsh football.”
“Wow. Well, it’s good you’re not conceited or anything,” she said, bumping my shoulder.
“Just stating a fact. Do you wanna go to the bonfire tonight?” I asked, bumping her right back.
She looked away from me to a point on the horizon. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t. Besides, you’ll be too busy with that circle of girls who flock around you to pay any attention to me.” She didn’t say it like she was jealous, which kind of pissed me off even more. Talking to her was as easy as breathing sometimes, but other times it was as difficult as pulling out nails with my teeth.
“I promise to hang out with you all night and no one else.”
“I don’t want to go,” she said sharply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously.”
“Spill it, Texas. I don’t have all day.”
“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” I asked sincerely.
She stared at me for a moment as if she didn’t comprehend what I was saying. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said, and you’ve said some pretty dumb stuff. Why would I be embarrassed? You’re the most popular boy in school.”
“Then why do you act like you don’t know me? I wave to you in the halls and you just look away. I know we didn’t hang out in junior high, but we’re in high school now.” Some part of me hadn’t wanted to associate with Sylvie in school before. I’d thought she did it to protect my reputation and it had made me feel guilty because I’d let her. I didn’t care about that now. Her company was worth any risk to my social standing. But despite all my efforts to engage her in conversation or introduce her to my friends, she remained a loner.
“I’m just in a learning mode at school.”
I let out the cynical laugh that was becoming more common as I grew up. “That’s bullshit and you know it. By the way, where the hell do you eat lunch? I look for you in the lunchroom everyday and you’re never there.”
“Mrs Peters lets me eat in the art room.”
“Why would you want to eat by yourself? You should be eating with me.”
She shrugged and pulled her line in. “I can sketch when I’m in there. I’m getting pretty good at it.”
This was news to me. Every time I thought I knew this girl, she threw me for a loop. “Can I see them?”
“No,” she said, starting to put our lures back into the tackle box. It was my equipment, but I kept it in her garage since I rarely went fishing without her anymore. Besides, she liked to go by herself, so I just figured this way she could.
“Why not?”
“It’s all locked up in the art room anyway,” she said, holding up a dismissive hand.
I leaned back on my elbows. “Well, maybe I’ll take art as an elective and then you’ll have no choice.”
She laughed. “Don’t you dare, Cal.”
“Who’s going to stop me?”
“Me,” she replied, pushing her face against mine in some threatening pose. It made me laugh. I shoved her away easily.
“Will you at least come to my games?”
“Why would you want me there?”
I thought about it for a second, not sure why it meant so much to me, but it did. “For luck,” I finally said.
“’Kay, but I don’t think I’m very lucky, Tex.”
“It’s okay. I’m a great quarterback. I only need a little luck anyway.”
She smiled, shaking her head. “Like I said, you’re conceited.”
“It’s good I have you to remind me I’m not so great.”
“Why would you say that, Cal?”
“Well, if I was so great, you wouldn’t act like I didn’t exist when other people are around. That shit hurts, Sylvie.”
She placed her small hand on my chest. “Stop fronting, Tex. All the girls swoon over you, like you’re the reincarnation of Elvis or something. You know you’re six foot, blond-haired, blue-eyed perfection.”
I sat up, doing my best to hide my cocky grin, but it was difficult. I wasn’t sure how Sylvie felt about me or us beside that we were friends. She’d kissed me that time, but we’d never done anything else. “You think I’m perfection? Tell me more.”
“And conceited.” She sighed.
“By the way, my eyes are gray, just so you know.”
“Sometimes they look gray, but there are times when they look blue to me.”
“Maybe you should get your eyes checked out.”
“Very funny,” she replied, patting my chest.
I clasped her hand and pulled her down so she was on top of me. I curled my legs around hers and spun us so I was on top of her. She stared up at me with surprise, but not fear or distaste. I pressed my lips into hers with such force that she squeaked underneath me, but then she ran her fingers through my hair, urging me closer. Her lips were softer than I remembered…and I’d spent many hours imagining them. My hands trailed though her silky hair while I spent my sweet time concentrating on her luscious mouth.
Finally, she gently nudged me away. I moved off her and lay on my back next to her, taking her hand in mine. We were both breathing heavily.
“Wow,” she panted.
“Yeah,” I replied, incapable of forming any additional syllables.
“You were ri
ght.”
“About what?” I asked, caressing her hand with mine.
“It was worth the wait, even though it’s been two years.”
I laughed. “Well, there’s plenty more where that came from.”
She sat up on her elbow, peering down at me. “Cal, don’t ever do that again.”
“What? Are you smoking crack, girl? You just told me you liked it.”
“I did, but next time, I won’t be able to stop you…so don’t, ’kay?”
I sighed in frustration, banging my head on the dock and releasing her hand. “Girls are so fucking weird.”
She sat up suddenly, staring through the forest opening. “Did you hear that?”
Of course I did. It was the wild beating of my heart fighting against her crushing words. “What?”
“It’s cars. Lots of them. And it’s coming from the direction of our houses.”
She was right. I heard them grow louder and mingle together. I looked through the dense opening and could just make out the lights of a police cruiser. Something was wrong. “Let’s go check it out,” I said, standing up. A sudden queasy feeling lodged in the pit of my stomach. I grabbed the tackle box. She took the fishing pole. I reached for her hand and we ran through the woods.
The tightness in my chest increased exponentially the closer we got. By the time I opened the door, I felt like my body had been run through in a vice grip. My dad’s best friend, Deputy Sheriff Kent Smalley, stood inside the living room of my house embracing my mother, while Theresa Callor, another officer, was hugging Mandy.
I squeezed Sylvie’s hand so tight it probably hurt, but she didn’t say anything. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“Oh, Cal,” my momma said in a choked wail I’d never heard before.
Deputy Smalley approached me. His usual jovial face was pale and humorless. “I need to talk you, son.” He stared over at Sylvie. “You should run along home. This is family business.”
“She stays. What’s going on?” I asked again.
“Cal, this is family business,” he repeated. Sylvie tried to release my hand, but I gripped it too hard for her to let go. Whatever was happening, I instinctively knew I needed her with me.
“She is,” I said sharply.
