Bobby Blanchard, Lesbian Gym Teacher

by Monica Nolan

  “Please, please don’t expel me!” Lotta burst into tears. “Kayo got her stupid locket back, and what Beryl did, sneaking beer into the mixer, is much worse!”

  Mentally, Bobby kicked herself for forgetting to grab the illicit beer when she and Enid carried Kayo to the infirmary. “Lotta, you’re not going to be expelled, there’s no need to rat out your fellow students. I want you to apologize to the whole squad for putting them in an uproar, and especially to Kayo. And of course you’ll resign as water girl.” She had to look away from the misery on Lotta’s face as the anemic teen repeated in disbelief, “Re—resign as water girl?”

  “Run along to breakfast now,” Bobby ordered gruffly, pretending to be busy zipping up her Windbreaker.

  The power of love! Bobby thought as she headed back to Cornwall. It had led Lotta to theft and Miss Craybill to a nervous breakdown. On the other hand, it had motivated Kayo to drive the Savages all season, putting them in the running for the regional championship! It had given Mona the energy to bike to Mesquakie Point in the dead of night, on a bicycle coated with phosphorescence.

  Mona, she remembered. I have to ask her what Miss Froelich said before she died. If she could convince Miss Craybill that Miss Froelich had not jumped on purpose, maybe the Headmistress would recover and Metamora would be saved!

  It seemed like an ordinary Sunday at Metamora, Bobby thought, watching the girls at breakfast. Only someone accustomed to the small nuances of teen behavior would pick up on the edge of unhealthy excitement in the mealtime chatter, the growing disregard for Miss Otis’s authority. Bobby saw Beryl doctor her orange juice with a small flask, while around her the distracted teachers conversed among themselves.

  “The situation’s getting worse,” she told Enid grimly after the meal was over. “I’m going to talk to Mona.”

  “I’ll try Miss Craybill again,” Enid said.

  Bobby found Mona in the kitchen, inspecting a grocery delivery from the A&P in Adena. “Look, graham crackers!” She brandished a box at Bobby. “I thought we’d have s’mores over the rec room fire after the game with Adena.”

  “Sounds good.” Bobby bore straight to the business at hand. “Mona, when—”

  Mona interrupted her with a laugh. “Bobby, you’ve got to be patient, it’s still much too dangerous to tell Miss Craybill anything that might upset her. She is doing a little better—I must say I think my idea of getting her a pair of budgies was inspired—but she’s hardly—”

  “It’s not about that.” It was Bobby’s turn to interrupt the prattling housekeeper. “I only wanted to ask: When you and Miss Craybill found Miss Froelich lying by the sundial, what did she say? What were her last words?”

  For an instant, Mona’s face took on that hooded, wary look Bobby had seen when she’d guessed the identity of the housekeeper’s illicit lover. Then Mona was all wide-eyed surprise. “Last words? Miss Froelich was dead when Miss Craybill found the body. Anyway, I—”

  “You were there too,” Bobby told her. “I saw Miss Craybill and talked to her. I told her about your cycling escapades, and honestly, she didn’t seem to care much. She’s blaming herself for Miss Froelich’s death—because of something Miss Froelich said, something you both decided to hush up.”

  “Forgive me, Bobby, I didn’t know you knew,” Mona said instantly. “I didn’t want to lie to you, but Miss Craybill and I thought the fewer people who knew that Miss Froelich had—you know—the better. And honestly, if Miss Craybill didn’t tell you what Miss Froelich said, I don’t know that I should. It was—personal. You do understand, don’t you?” She glanced at her watch. “Goodness, I’d better get these groceries put away. Isn’t it nearly time for first period?”

  Bobby left, frustrated by the housekeeper’s sudden attack of high-mindedness.

  Wait a second. She stopped in her tracks outside Dorset. There aren’t any classes on Sunday! Was there more to the housekeeper’s moral stance than met the eye?

  She hurried to Kent. Perhaps Enid had had better luck.

  Enid was coming down the steps outside Kent, and Bobby’s heart contracted at the sight of her all over again. I love that girl, she thought, heartsick. From her black-framed glasses to the tips of her scuffed penny loafers!

  “No go,” Enid reported. “The Headmistress is better guarded than Fort Knox.”

  Bobby groaned. Miss Otis and her clumsy attempts to protect Metamora’s reputation! “Mona was a wash too. There’s something up with the housekeeper—something’s bothering me about her, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  “Really?” Enid was intrigued. “Maybe we could go for a walk in the woods and put our heads together over the problem.”

  “Sure!” Bobby’s pulse pitter-pattered. Then she remembered, “Oh, I can’t—field hockey practice starts in ten minutes. But—later?”

  “I have a meeting with the Problem Solvers,” Enid told her.

  The two teachers looked at each other for a moment. Was the disappointment Bobby felt mirrored in Enid’s eyes?

  Metamora, thought Bobby, trudging disconsolately to the gymnasium. It had brought them together, but it also pushed them apart.

  Her thoughts were so busy with Enid that it took her a second to remember why Lotta’s eyes were red-rimmed, and why she wasn’t bustling around with towels and water. Then the morning’s discovery came rushing back.

  “Are you ready to apologize to the team?” Bobby asked her, putting an encouraging hand on her shoulder. Lotta nodded, struggling to maintain her composure. Bobby blew her whistle, interrupting the players’ calisthenics. “Savages, gather round, Lotta has something to say.”

  As Lotta confessed in a broken voice, the players gasped and muttered amongst themselves. Some of them stole covert glances at Angle, who stood a little apart as usual, her face as impassive as one of Mr. Burnham’s Iroquois braves.

  As the chattering Savages returned to their calisthenics, Bobby reminded Lotta, “And don’t forget to find Kayo and make amends with her as well. She’s probably still in the infirmary.” She felt again that worm of anxiety at the thought of Kayo.

  “Can I—can I go to the Adena game to cheer at least?” Lotta begged. Bobby had to harden her heart. “No, Lotta,” she told the girl. “Not this time.”

  The coach was glad to return to drilling the Savages in the Twist Push-Pass Feint. The new play was going to be a humdinger when they got it right. “No, no,” she explained again to Shirley Sarvis. “You pass in the opposite direction of your twist. Otherwise there’s no surprise, do you see?” She demonstrated again.

  “It’s like trying to rub my stomach and pat my head at the same time,” said Shirley, good-naturedly trying the move again.

  Misako, Bobby observed with some surprise, had the new play down perfectly, and could switch directions as needed, without a second thought. Joyce Vandemar wasn’t half bad either. Perhaps it was because they were both in her peasant dance class and had studied the Twist so thoroughly.

  At the end of practice, Angle came up to Bobby. “Coach, I’ve decided to apologize to Kayo.”

  Bobby blinked in surprise. “Angle, that’s terrific news! What made you change your mind?”

  “Now that everyone knows Lotta took the locket and not me, it won’t be like I’m saying I was guilty. And I want to beat those Holy Virgins again.” She paused and shuffled her feet. “Besides, I—I was walking by the infirmary last night, and I heard Kayo crying!”

  The worm of anxiety in Bobby’s stomach gave a wriggle.

  “I bet that Curt Hudgins she dated for the dance tried something she didn’t like.” Angle’s eyes flashed angrily. “And him her first cousin!”

  “You see now that Kayo has problems and confusion about her identity just like any girl on the verge of womanhood,” Bobby told the teen, wondering how Angle knew so much about Kayo’s escort. “Your empathy is a real sign of maturity.”

  Angle looked at her keenly. “Kayo’s confused about her identity?”

  “I
just meant it as an example,” Bobby hastened to say. “What I mean is, I’m happy you’re finding things in common with your classmate.”

  “Well, I believe in showing the enemy a united front,” Angle concluded, “even when there are ideological differences.”

  At least now she didn’t have to worry about benching Beryl for that beer, Bobby thought, feeling relieved. She began to rewrite her starting roster for the Adena game. Even if Kayo was out…

  “Coach Bobby?”

  Bobby looked up from her desk. “What is it, Edie?”

  The goalie hovered uncertainly in the doorway. “I just wondered…did Kayo tell you about Thursday?”

  A feeling of foreboding filled the hockey coach. “What about Thursday?”

  “It’s the annual DAP luncheon in Bay City, for all the DAP girls in the region. We elect new officers, and get awards for the money we’ve raised, and have the glögg ceremony for new members…”

  Bobby leaned back. “Kayo said nothing about it.”

  “That’s what I was worried about.” Edie knit her brows. “She said she was going to arrange for us to leave early and be in Adena in time for the game, but when I visited her in the infirmary this morning, she said we had to stay for the whole thing. She said we couldn’t neglect our DAP duties any longer.”

  “Thanks for letting me know, Edie,” Bobby managed to say.

  When the goalie had gone, she looked down at the roster. Who was she left with? Angle, Annette, Shirley Sarvis, and a bunch of second-string fourth formers. Even with Angle it wouldn’t be enough.

  Unless…She picked up her pen and began adding names to her starting list. “The fourth formers know the Twist Push-Pass Feint,” she said aloud. “We’ll have to use the Twist Push-Pass Feint!”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The Old Ivy

  “The Savages are coming,

  Better run, better hide,

  They have a firm grip on their sticks

  And won’t be satisfied

  By anything less than victory,

  So their enemies woe betide!”

  The Savages sang their fight song triumphantly as Ole drove the blue bus up the bluffs back to Metamora.

  “Three cheers for Coach Bobby!” piped up Joyce Vandemar. “Hip hip hooray…”

  The cheers shook the bus. The team had been cheering ever since they’d left Adena and showed no signs of slowing down.

  “Some victory, huh?” Ole said to Bobby.

  “Yeah.” Bobby was still too dazed to do more than repeat, “Some victory.”

  One part of her rejoiced at the Savages’ stunning victory, the other part fretted over the latest bit of bad luck affecting the Midwest Regional Secondary School Girls’ Field Hockey League. When they’d arrived at Adena High, the Savages had been greeted with the news that several of the first-string Pioneers were out of the game due to a bizarre outbreak of poison ivy. “It was all over their legs,” Adena’s coach told Bobby. “It was like someone had rubbed their shin guards in the stuff!”

  Bobby was more convinced than ever that someone was sabotaging the field hockey games. But who? And why?

  At least this lets Mona out, Bobby thought. The housekeeper had stayed at Metamora today, to prepare the s’mores party.

  The bus was bumping through the big stone gate posts and now the team burst into the Metamora school song:

  “Hail to thee, Metamora,

  O mother of our minds,

  From here to Bora Bora

  Her faithful daughters finds,

  Brave-hearted, always willing…”

  They swung into the parking lot behind Kent, and the Savages tumbled off the bus. “We won, we won!” they shouted to several DAP girls, who were descending from a taxi, still dressed in their Bay City best.

  “You did?” Edie, Penny, and Linda were surprised and a little jealous. “Without us?”

  “Darn Kayo and her DAP loyalty,” flung out Linda. “I wish we’d been there!”

  “Well, thanks to us, you’ll probably play in the championship game,” Joyce reminded Linda generously. Misako took Edie’s arm.

  “Come, Edie,” she said. “S’mores for all the Savages! DAPs too!”

  Bobby followed her team, looking anxiously around for Kayo. But instead she bumped into Hoppy outside the entrance to Dorset. The Current Events Mistress was with Netta Bean from the Knock Knock Lounge.

  “Why hello, Netta!” The coach paused to greet the bespectacled inner-city school teacher. “How nice to see you again!”

  Netta was certainly becoming a frequent visitor at Metamora. Anxiety seized Bobby. Did she teach math as well as English? Did she have her eye on Enid’s job?

  “Bobby! Just the person we were looking for.” Hoppy pulled the Games Mistress to one side as the Savages streamed past them.

  “Say, Hoppy, did you hear how well Misako played in the game today? Her performance of the Twist Push-Pass Feint was perfection!”

  “Never mind that now.” Bobby felt a twinge of resentment as Hoppy brushed aside Misako’s achievement. “Netta and I have had a real brainstorm. We want your help in putting together a friendly field hockey competition between the Savages and some of the students from Eleanor D. Roosevelt.”

  “With a goodwill fellowship party afterward,” Netta chimed in. “I think incorporating sports into the cultural exchange will be an invaluable way to emphasize the student’s commonalities, even as they explore their differences.”

  “Well sure, okay.” Bobby wondered at Hoppy, planning her cultural exchange as if nothing was wrong at Metamora. “But what about Miss Craybill?”

  “Look.” Hoppy turned serious. “We all know Miss Craybill is non compos mentis, who knows for how long. If this cloud has a silver lining, it’s the opportunity to try out some really progressive educational ideas while Metamora lasts!”

  Bobby was shocked at Hoppy’s cold-blooded practicality.

  “Netta, let’s go to the s’mores party, I’d like you to observe Metamora’s social status systems in action,” Hoppy proposed to her friend. “And our housekeeper makes a mean cup of cocoa.”

  “I’d love a cup of cocoa.” Netta followed Hoppy into Dorset.

  Bobby stayed outside, deep in thought. Was Hoppy an exception or the norm? Had the rest of Metamora’s faculty given up on the school too?

  “Bobby! There you are!” It was Enid, breathless, her cheeks red with excitement. “I think I may have the means of putting Miss Craybill back on her feet!”

  Relief filled Bobby. At least Enid was still in there pitching. The Math Mistress was unfolding several sheets of flimsy stationery.

  “I found this letter today, tucked into the Dictionary of Named Effects and Laws in Chemistry, Physics, and Mathematics.” She thrust it at Bobby. “Read it!”

  It was dated May 30 of that year. “Dear Myra,” it began.

  “Who’s Myra?” asked Bobby.

  “That part doesn’t matter, just read!”

  Dear Myra,

  Term’s over at last, and once I finish entering grades, I’ll be able to devote all my time to the pursuit of the elusive short-billed marsh wren. My envious congratulations to you on your pair of Hooded Mergansers! That is a coup indeed. They say their territory stretches south to our fair state, but I’ve never been fortunate enough to see one, much less a pair.

  “It’s all about birds,” Bobby objected.

  “Skip ahead, here.”

  As you know, I’m planning to join Seeley Sedgewick on her expedition to the Amazon this fall. I thrill when I think of the Macaws, Nightjars, and Blue Crowned Trogons that await me. Aggie will be terribly disappointed, I fear. I’ve been rather avoiding her, since I dread breaking the news of my defection, but I ought to tell her soon, as she’ll have to hire a replacement Math Mistress for next term. Perhaps your kind invitation for August will help soften the blow. And of course

  The letter ended there.

  “So she was going to the Amazon!” Bobby gasped. “Whi
ch means—”

  “Miss Craybill’s belief that she drove her friend to suicide is false!” Enid finished.

  “We have to show this to the Headmistress immediately,” Bobby declared. “This will be the shot in the arm she needs—and it will do her a lot more good than the shots she’s been getting.”

  Enid was shaking her head. “I tried, remember? Miss Otis has two nurses relaying each other on round-the-clock duty, and a specially appointed sub-prefect patrolling the third-floor corridor. And now she’s gone to a meeting with the Old Girls’ Weekend Organizing Committee and won’t be back until who knows when.”

  Bobby looked up at Kent, her mind rapidly running over the possibilities. A rope from Kent’s roof down to Miss Craybill’s room? Too long to rig. Should she rally the Savages to overpower the nurse and sub-prefect? No, they deserved to enjoy their victory celebration without being dragged into the deranged Headmistress’s problems. If only Enid had some acrobatic circus training…

  “I know—the ivy!”

  “The ivy?” repeated Enid blankly.

  “Sure—see how thick it is there?” Bobby pointed at the green leaves that covered the building. “It should hold our weight. Didn’t you ever scale the ivy at your school to sneak into the dorm after curfew?”

  “I was never out after curfew,” said Enid stiffly.

  “Well, curfew is ringing now at Metamora.” Bobby grabbed Enid’s hand and pulled the dubious Math Mistress from Dorset’s entrance to Kent.

  “Miss Craybill’s room is above the infirmary,” Bobby said, tugging Enid up the steps and into the building. “If we go out through its window, we won’t have to climb all the way from the ground.”

  “I don’t know,” began Enid as the Games Mistress flung open the infirmary door. The two teachers stopped on the threshold. Kayo was inside the sterile white room, pilfering painkillers from the medicine cabinet.

  “What do you two want?” demanded the Savages’ captain rudely.

  Bobby felt her stomach drop at the expression of suffering on Kayo’s face. She’d been acting like a coward, avoiding the teen ever since the Harvest Moon Mixer. How could she have been so callous? Her own memories of Madge should have taught her that a broken heart didn’t heal like a bruised ankle!