by Leigh Perry
“That’s brilliant! A present for your mother and a slap in the face to the McQuaids, all in one fell swoop.”
“That’s only half the deal. The other half is a present for you.”
“For me?”
“For you, for me, for Charles, for all the adjuncts. The university has agreed to convert the Dana Fenton Building for use by adjuncts. That means each of us gets our own cubicle with walls at least five feet tall for privacy. Plus there will be conference rooms where we can meet with students; a break room with a refrigerator and microwave; a copier and a printer; and new furniture.”
“The university agreed to spend that kind of money?”
“Mom added up how much they’d save by agreeing instead of fighting it out in court. Plus it seems that some of the tenured faculty have been pushing for treating adjuncts better, and they were threatening to make a public stink.”
“That would be my parents’ work,” I said, remembering all the time they’d been spending with colleagues. “But what about McHades Hall?”
“Not our problem. The McQuaid Quintet has a year to come up with a new location. Dad suggested that they use the family mansion, but I don’t think that’s happening.”
“Probably not. That’s really good news, Brownie.”
“Yeah? You don’t sound that excited.”
“No, I think it’s terrific. I just wish I were going to be here to enjoy it.”
“What do you mean?”
“The reason I was late tonight was because I had a meeting with Dr. Eberhardt this afternoon. The department won’t be renewing my contract next semester. Eberhardt says that with my parents back from sabbatical, they won’t need as many adjuncts. So they picked a duck out of the pond, and I lost.”
“That is such bull.”
“Of course it is, and I called him on it. He eventually admitted that the McQuaid Quintet had insisted. Because of me, Alexis was exposed as an Internet bully who framed an innocent girl for murder. Appropriately enough, the story has gone viral, so their fair name has been besmirched.”
“Fair name! Alexis isn’t the only bully in that family.”
“Yeah, I’d say the acorn didn’t fall far from the tree. Anyway, Eberhardt is embarrassed by the situation, but due to the black eye the department has been given because of our murderous grad student, he doesn’t feel he can fight it. So he’s promised to use his connections to find me another position close enough to Pennycross that I won’t have to move out of town.”
“You know what?” he said. “As soon as we’re finished eating, we’re going to go talk to my parents and get them to modify their agreement with the university to say that they have to keep you.”
I considered it, but only for a moment. “That’s really sweet, but no. I don’t want to queer the deal for the building, and if the department kept me, they’d have to fire another adjunct and I don’t want that on my conscience. Plus I’d just be on borrowed time until they could find an excuse to get rid of me, and when that happened, Eberhardt wouldn’t lift a finger to help me find another job. In fact, he’d probably go out of his way to spread dirt about me to every college within range.”
“You’ve really thought this through.”
“Sometimes I don’t need a Ferris wheel to give me perspective. I’ve been fired before—I’ve always survived.”
“Of course, if you’re going to be close to Pennycross, then you’ll be within the range of the show’s stands.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’d really miss Stewpot’s cooking.”
“Is that’s all you’d miss?”
“There might be something else.” I leaned over and showed him. Several times. Unfortunately our food arrived, and we had to break it off long enough to eat. Dinnertime conversation was considerably less intense, but very pleasant, and afterward Brownie took me back to the carnival. It was shut down, and most of the rides were in the process of being disassembled, but the Ferris wheel was still lit up and operational, and Gameboy was on hand to give us a long, private ride. It was a crisp, clear night, and we spent a good while up there trying to pick out my next school. Eventually the wind started to blow, overwhelming Brownie’s efforts to keep me warm, so he suggested hot chocolate in his trailer.
I don’t know where Charles spent that night, but it wasn’t in Brownie’s trailer.
In deference to my parent’s sensibilities and Madison’s presumed innocence, Brownie got me home before daylight. I was trying not to disturb anybody, but Sid was waiting for me in the living room.
“So?” he said. “How was your date?”
“Very nice.”
“Was there canoodling?”
“What is canoodling, anyway?”
“You were the one who was out all night. You tell me.”
“Why don’t I tell you about what Treasure Hunt, aka Nelson McQuaid, is planning?”
“I’m all ear holes!”
Sid was much impressed by the solution Treasure Hunt had come up with. “I just wish I could have been eavesdropping when they broke the news to the Quintet! They must have been livid.”
“Unfortunately, the Quintet still has power in town,” I said, and explained what Eberhardt had told me.
“That ossifying piece of sacrum! And the Quintet! Mail me to them, Georgia, let me show them what a real haunted house is like.”
I patted his femur. “It’s okay, Sid. I’m not thrilled about having to job hunt, but it could be a lot worse.” I was a good teacher. I had a guy worth canoodling. I had a daughter strong enough to blow off a bully, parents who considered me a worthy academic, and a sister who didn’t think I was completely useless. And my house was haunted by my best friend.
Looking for more?
Visit Penguin.com for more about this author and a complete list of their books.
Discover your next great read!
