by P. T. Hylton
“That’s great. Anybody I know?” Frank asked.
Jake shook his head. “It’s a guy Christine works with. Nice dude. We’ve gone out to dinner with him a few times and been to a couple cookouts at his house. He’s going through a rough divorce and he needs a new place.”
“Cool. We could use another bachelor,” Will said.
Jake waved to the guy on the recliner.
“Hey, I was telling Frank and Will that you're going to be their new neighbor.”
The man eased himself out of the chair and ambled over. He smiled and held out his hand to Frank. “Hey, nice to meet you, man. I’m Brett Miller.”
CHAPTER THREE: CERTIFIED
1.
Wendy Caulfield missed the Internet. It had been eight years and it seemed like she should be over it by now. And most of the time she was. She agreed with Zed and the others. It was better to have a world with more personal connections and less virtual ones. It was better to have a world where families talked during dinner rather than glancing at their iPhones every thirty seconds. A world where cyber-bullying and cyber-crime and online pornography were things of the past.
Still, she couldn’t help but miss it sometimes. Facebook. Twitter. Blogs. YouTube. Podcasts. The collected knowledge of human history a few keystrokes away. Sure, there was a lot of bad stuff and misinformation out there, but plenty of good stuff came along with it. She missed being able to take a five-minute break from working and hop over to CNN.com. And, okay, maybe Vulture.com too. Now she was left staring at Word and PowerPoint.
It was a better world the people of Rook Mountain had created for themselves, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t indulge in a little nostalgia now and then.
She sighed and pushed those thoughts away. She had to concentrate on this syllabus.
Wendy was just getting back into the groove when there was a rap on her classroom door.
“Come in,” she said. If this was Grace Harris asking for help with Excel again, Wendy was going to punch her in the face.
The door opened, and Becky Raymond stepped into the classroom. The city manager moved elegantly, sliding through the barely open doorway and easing the door shut behind her.
“Hi Wendy,” Becky said. “Do you have time to chat for a moment?”
“Becky, of course.” Wendy started to stand up, but Becky held up a hand.
“Please, don’t get up for me. I know you’re busy. I won’t take much of your time.” Becky walked to the student desk nearest Wendy and sat down. “How’s the prep going? Ready for another year?”
Wendy smiled. “I’m getting there. It’ll be a challenge with the restructuring, but we’ll make it work.”
“I appreciate that, and Zed does too. I know we threw you for a loop with the reduced classroom hours this year, but we feel that the students of the Beyond Academy are better served by having more time in the field.”
Wendy nodded. “I understand. I hope you know that reduced class time means we have less time to spend with the students who are struggling. It also probably means lower Certification scores.”
The smile was still frozen on Becky’s face, but her eyes went a shade colder. “The Board knows that we have the best teachers here. We ask a lot, but I think you’ll agree that we reward you well for your results. The Beyond Academy has a history of one hundred percent Certification of our graduates, and that can’t change. Otherwise, what are we doing here? We might as well send the students to one of Will Osmond’s night classes.”
“I agree. I’m not saying they won’t pass certification. I’m just saying you have to expect this to have some impact.”
“We understand that. And we are confident that you and the other teachers will find a way to mitigate those impacts. But I’m sorry to get off topic. I didn’t come here to discuss the schedule changes. I came to talk to you about one of your new students.”
“Oh? Which student is that?” Wendy knew which student, but she felt it polite to ask.
“Trevor Hinkle.”
Wendy rubbed her arms. “Okay, sure. Trevor’s a bright kid. I’ve seen his test scores and his essay work is strong. Seems mature enough. I’m not expecting any problems due to the age difference.”
“The age difference isn’t my main concern. His family is.”
Wendy sighed. “Is it his mother the doctor that’s worrying you? Or his step-father who runs Zed’s certification program?”
Becky drummed her manicured fingernails on the desktop. “There’s no need to be a smart ass, Wendy. You spent a lot of time with his family in the Before. What do you think?”
Wendy fought to remain calm. This woman was technically her boss, one of them anyway. Becky wasn’t being rude exactly—she was interested in a situation into which Wendy had special insight. But Wendy had long ago grown tired of talking about her ex-boyfriend and his family.
“Yes, I spent time with the Hinkles. Christine and I were good friends. But that was all in the Before. Trevor was a baby. I’m not sure how I can help you.”
“I know. It’s not fair of me to ask. I guess I’m a little nervous. Here’s this kid whose father threw that little temper-tantrum after Regulation Day. His uncle has been in prison for most of the kid’s life. How will a kid like that will hold up under the strain of the Academy?”
“We’ve had kids from tough backgrounds before. You remember Marcus Yates? There were three Regulation Breakers in his immediate family. He managed to turn his life around in here.”
Becky smiled. “Thanks for saying that. I needed to be reminded of something positive today.” She tilted her head at Wendy and lowered her voice a little. “Can I bounce something off you?”
“Of course.”
“Zed’s considering fast-tracking Trevor. He thinks maybe if he takes Trevor outside early in the semester, it might help get the kid in the right mental state. What do you think?”
Wendy sat up in her chair a little straighter. “You mean take him on a trek out of Rook Mountain?”
Becky nodded.
Students didn’t usually make their first trek until their second year at the earliest. Had a freshman ever been allowed outside? But there was only one answer Wendy could give. She spoke slowly. “Kids are different when they come back from their first time. Some of them have a hard time dealing with it. If Zed thinks Trevor is ready for that, I trust him.”
Becky smiled, showing her impossibly perfect teeth. “Good. I appreciate your honesty. One more thing I wanted to mention while I’m here. Frank is out of prison. Got out yesterday.”
Wendy suddenly felt numb all over. “How is that possible? He had years and years left on his sentence.”
“I oversaw the release myself. The Board thought he might be able to help us find his brother.”
“But—why now? After all this time?”
The smile fell from Becky’s face. “That’s Board business. I just wanted to let you know in case he contacts you.”
Wendy sat for a few long moments, trying to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind.
Becky stood up. “Thanks for the chat. Please let me know how things go with Trevor.” The city manager stood and walked out of the classroom. She did not shut the door behind her.
Wendy closed her book and rubbed her eyes. She wouldn’t get any more work done today. Frank was back and he was looking for Jake. Well, good luck to him. Wendy was the one person who knew exactly what had happened to Jake, and she wasn’t talking.
2.
In another classroom across town from the Rook Mountain Beyond Academy, Will stood in front of a class of bored and vacant-eyed teenagers. They all aspired to part-time jobs in the Rook Mountain food service industry, but before they could take their proud places in the checkout lines or in front of the fry cooker they needed to pass the Rook Mountain Food Handling Certification Test. Will’s job was to get them ready.
“Okay,” Will said. “Renee and Brad, you role play the scenario. Renee, you are a customer breaking Regu
lation 14 at a grocery store, and Brad is the Food Service Professional who is going to stop you. Got it?”
Brad and Renee looked at each other for a moment and then nodded, signaling their mutual readiness. Renee took a deep breath and then began.
“Oh, man, you know what my family totally loves? Pepsi.” She spoke in a loud, theatrical voice. “The store sure has a lot of Pepsi this week. But what if they don’t have any next week? You know what I’ll do? I’ll buy, like, fourteen cases of the stuff today to be safe.”
A twitter of laughter made its way through the classroom.
“Okay,” Will said. “Good, Renee. Brad, she’s bringing her fourteen cases of Pepsi to the checkout counter. What do you say?”
Brad cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ma’am. May I ask you how many people are in your household, please?”
Renee put her hand to her chest and put on a shocked expression. She was in full-on drama club mode. “Oh, certainly, young man. It’s me, my super rich and handsome husband Jacques, and our three lovely girls.”
The class laughed again.
“Ma’am,” Brad said. “I notice that you have fourteen cases of Pepsi. That is over the weekly limit for a family of five. Can you please put twelve of them back?”
“Nicely done,” Will said.
Renee pretended to choke up. She wiped a mock tear away from her eye. Will really wanted a drink, and not Pepsi. “But what if you don’t have any Pepsi next week? My Jacques would be so disappointed in me!”
Brad held up a hand. “Ma’am, the Rook Mountain Resource Expansion team is hard at work even as we speak, gathering supplies for next week’s groceries. They won’t rest until we all have what we need. You have to trust them. Trust is a must.”
Will rubbed his eyes and reminded himself that he only had two more classes today.
“This is unbelievable!” shouted Renee. “How dare you deny me my rights! This is America. I’ll buy as much Pepsi as I want, and you can’t stop me, you fascist pig!”
“Okay, we probably don’t need the name calling,” Will said. “That was good, though, both of you. A round of applause for Renee and Brad?” The other students clapped half-heartedly. “At this point, Brad would call for his manager to assist with the situation. And Renee would probably be looking at a nice fine after all that fascist talk. Any volunteers to go next?”
Will loved asking that question. More to the point, he loved the silence that followed, the absolute peace in the classroom while every student tried to sit still and not be noticed. Back in college, they had taught Will to wait a full seven seconds after asking a question. At first, that had seemed like an eternity. Now he preferred to stretch it to fourteen. It gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. And this morning he needed all the moments he could get.
Last night had been rough and he hadn’t gotten much sleep. With the shooting yesterday and Christine finding the key, there would have been more than enough excitement. And then Frank showed up.
It was worrisome, Frank showing up the same day they found the key. It was too much of a coincidence, and Will didn’t believe in coincidences, not these days. How much did Frank know? And why had they let him out of prison? What had he promised them? Will trusted Frank, the old Frank, but who knew how nine years in prison could change a man? Frank hadn’t been there on Regulation Day. He hadn’t been there for what happened to Jake.
Will suspected that he and Christine had changed as much as Frank had over the last nine years. The old Will certainly wouldn’t have shot a defenseless human being on top of Rook Mountain for the purpose of keeping up appearances.
Last night Christine, Will, and Frank had kept the conversation light. They didn’t talk about Frank’s time in prison, or why he had been released. They didn’t discuss the shooting earlier in the day or the key Christine had found. They hadn’t mentioned the Regulations. They avoided these topics by unspoken, mutual consent. They had talked about old times. Frank had marveled at how old Trevor looked and had asked a lot of questions about the boy. It had been nice.
But they wouldn’t be able to avoid the difficult conversations forever. They would have to face them soon—probably tonight.
Will noticed a hand raised near the front of the class. “Yes, Jen? What is it?”
“I will,” the girl said.
“You’ll what?”
Jen looked confused. “I’ll volunteer. For the role play.”
“Oh,” Will said. “Right, sorry.” Will focused on the class. He couldn’t let his attention waver, not now. The last thing he needed was a student mentioning to the wrong person that Mr. Osmond seemed weird today.
“Who else?” Will asked. He suspected a few of the boys would be more apt to volunteer now that Jen Durant had.
The last ten minutes of class went by without incident. Will took a long drink of his room-temperature coffee as the class filed out. He didn’t mind the temperature or the harsh, bitter taste. He’d need all the caffeine he could get for this next class.
Rook Mountain offered twenty-five Certification tests on topics ranging from heavy equipment operation to law enforcement, and Will taught prep classes for every one of them. He had little input into the tests themselves—the board of selectmen put those together. He just prepared the students. It was a job the old Will, the Will from the Before, would have hated. It was the very definition of ‘teaching to the test.’ Old Will would have complained about the instructional philosophy behind a system so test heavy. The present day Will drank his bad coffee and tried to make it through the day without breaking any Regulations.
Of all the Certification courses he taught, this next one was his least favorite. It was also the most popular. Resource Expansion Certification. The only Certification that gave the ability to leave Rook Mountain. Will had trained this class to over four hundred people. Four hundred in a town with a population of four thousand. Young and old, it seemed like everyone wanted to venture beyond the borders of the little town. None of his students had ever passed.
And none of the students at the Rook Mountain Beyond Academy had ever failed.
It was a source of constant frustration for Will. Unlike the other Certification tests, Will was not allowed to see the Resource Expansion test. He had only a vague idea of the topics the test covered. As the teacher, he was barred from taking it himself, and others who had taken the test were barred from discussing it lest they face jail time under Regulation 17. The Beyond Academy had three years to prepare their students for the test, and Will was sure the teachers over there knew what was on it. The deck was stacked against Will and his students. Those not selected for Beyond Academy weren’t meant to pass the test, and they never did.
Will actively discouraged folks from signing up for this Certification course, but most of them could not be deterred. They kept signing up, month after month, and Will kept teaching the curriculum designed by the board of selectmen, despite its zero success rate.
Will looked out at the class. It was the first day of this course, and they were eager. Hopeful. They’d all heard the stories about how difficult the test was, but they all thought they would beat the odds. It made Will sad to look at them. He wanted to tell them to go home, that it wasn’t going to happen for them.
Instead, he put on a smile, stepped to the front of the class and said, “Okay. Ready to begin?”
3.
Frank hesitated at the bottom of the porch steps for as long as he dared, then trotted up to the front door of the house. The steps bent and groaned under his feet. The porch was badly in need of a paint job. A single artificial plant stood in a moldy planter near the door.
Frank knocked and waited. There was no answer, but he saw the living room curtains flutter.
He knocked again. He saw a dark, indistinct shape through the door's frosted glass window.
“Sally,” he said. “Sally, are you there?”
Again there was no answer, but the shape in the window grew a bit larger.
�
�Sally, it’s Frank Hinkle. I need to talk to you for a minute. It’s about my brother.”
He heard a series of clicks as deadbolts were released and locks were turned. The door opened three inches.
“Did they let you out of prison, or did you escape?” The voice coming from behind the door was low and raspy, but definitely female.
“They let me out, fair and square. I’m actually on assignment from Becky Raymond. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
The door eased open halfway, and Frank saw Sally Badwater for the first time. Her face was sickly thin and her hair clung to her head in stringy, greasy clumps. Though she was close to Frank’s age she looked at least ten years older.
“Damn Hinkle boys,” she said, looking Frank up and down. “I want to be left alone to do my business and you all keep bothering me. The devil take both of you.”
Frank cleared his throat and gritted his teeth. “What business are you in?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m curious why you're so interested. You never gave me the time of day back in high school.”
“I apologize for that,” Frank said. He shrugged. “I don’t have any excuse except that I was a dumb kid, and that’s no excuse at all.”
She stepped out onto the porch and leaned against the door frame. “I suppose we all were. You asked about my business. It’s photography. I do the usual weddings, senior pictures, and the like. The occasional boudoir type thing for an anniversary.” She winked at him. “I’ve been known to capture some other stuff too though. Scary stuff from you-know-where. Figure it’ll make me rich if we are ever allowed to travel again.”
Frank had no idea where ‘you know where’ was, but he nodded. He was still trying to assess Sally Badwater’s sanity.
She frowned at him. “I trust you won’t share what I just said with Becky Raymond? It might technically be against the rules.” Frank shook his head. “Good. They got lots of rules here now. They tell you about those?”
