The Very Principled Maggie Mayfield

by Kathy Cooperman

Richard snapped at Diane, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re proud of all the wrong things?”

  This put Diane back on her heels. “Um, no.”

  Maggie asked Richard, “So we’re not off the hook just because we won’t see any money out of this?”

  Richard sighed. “That’s right. When Diane told that Simon guy to dump the stock, you both committed insider trading. The fact that you tricked him doesn’t change that. It just means they can come after you for fraud too.”

  Maggie asked, “And will they? Come after us, I mean?”

  Richard nodded. “Yeah, they’ll come. The government may not have gotten around to it yet, but eventually, they’re going to notice that the district made a big trade the day before the story broke. And they’re going to want to know why.”

  Diane broke in, “But that’ll take them a long . . .”

  Richard shook his head. “No, it won’t take them long at all. You two left a paper trail. They’ll check the trading records. Then they’ll go to Simon Petal, and he’ll say Arlene told him to make the trade. Next, they’ll go to Arlene, and . . .”

  “Oh God, no,” said Maggie.

  “Oh God, yes,” answered Richard. “Arlene will say she didn’t know about the trade, she never made that call. And then—in no time—they’ll figure out that you and Diane called him. The beta testing was at your school. Once they learn you were involved with Zelinsky, it’ll be easy to piece out.”

  “And then?” asked Maggie.

  Richard reached out and put his hand over hers. “Then they’ll have you. You and Diane. On the criminal side, you’ll be looking at charges for insider trading and fraud, at the very least. They might want to throw in some public corruption charges too, what with you both being public servants.”

  Diane murmured, “Oh my God. It’ll be awful. We’ll be a movie of the week.”

  Maggie asked, “Will they let us keep our jobs?” As soon as she asked, she knew the answer.

  Richard shook his head. “No, you’re out the door, Mags. It’ll be a miracle if they don’t claw back your pensions.”

  Diane objected feebly, “But we’re the good guys here.”

  Richard said—not unkindly—“Good guys don’t commit securities fraud.”

  49

  THELMA & LOUISE

  Maggie thanked Richard and saw him out. Then she and Diane huddled at the kitchen table.

  Diane blustered, “I’m not going to jail. I say we Thelma & Louise our way outta here.”

  Maggie was incredulous. “Don’t you remember what happened to them at the end of that movie? They drive off a cliff. They commit suicide.”

  “Oh,” said Diane, flattened.

  Maggie said, “We don’t both have to go down for this. I’ll tell them I was the one who called Simon, that I dumped the stock. You knew nothing about it.”

  Diane frowned. “They’re not going to buy that. You can’t even do a decent Arlene.”

  “I don’t need to do a decent Arlene. I just have to convince the police I could do one good enough to fool Simon Petal.”

  Diane bristled. “No. You’re always taking credit for everything. I want them to know I’m the one who tricked Simon.”

  “Credit? There’s no credit here, just jail time!”

  Diane rolled her eyes. “Oh right. You think I’m just gonna stand aside and let you rot in jail by yourself? No way. If anyone’s taking the fall, it’s gonna be me.”

  It was late, and Maggie’s blood sugar was sinking from the pint of ice cream—okay, two pints—that she’d plowed through earlier. “You can’t take the fall. I’m the one who was close to Daniel. There are twenty traumatized senior citizens on my block who can testify to that. And I’m the one who blabbed to Winnie.”

  “You said Winnie protects her sources.”

  Maggie snarked, “Winnie gets plastered every night. We’re not talking Woodward and Bernstein.”

  “You’re not taking the fall for me,” said Diane.

  “Yeah, well, you couldn’t take the fall for me if you wanted to.” Maggie softened. “But it’s kind of you to offer.”

  Diane bowed her head in acknowledgment. “Same to you.”

  Maggie mumbled, “So what do we do?”

  Diane was firm. “We lam it. We get out while we still can, and we go someplace they’ll never find us.”

  “We can’t just leave.”

  “Sure we can.”

  Maggie sputtered, “But the school, we can’t leave the . . .”

  “You heard what Richard said. If they find out about that trade, there’s no way we’re keeping our jobs.”

  “No, we could fight this. We could . . .”

  Diane shook her head. “Maggie, even if we fight it, and let’s say we win somehow, you think it’s gonna be good for the kids to have us around after a stink like this, after we’ve been—what’s the word—compromised?”

  Maggie winced. She couldn’t do that to her school. If she became tainted, she’d have to go. She said softly, “That school is my whole life—everything, everyone I care about is there. My kids, my . . .”

  Diane took Maggie’s hand. “I know this is going to hurt. I know what that school means to you, what the people there mean to you. But trust me, with your personality, you’ll make new enemies wherever you go.”

  Maggie swatted Diane’s shoulder. “That’s not funny.”

  Diane smiled. “It’s a little funny.”

  Maggie popped a chocolate in her mouth. She knew leaving Carmel Knolls would be as painful for Diane as it was for her. Then she remembered. “What about Lars?”

  This stumped Diane for a moment, but she rebounded quickly. “Daddy’s got my sister. And more important, he’s got Jeannie now.”

  “You think you could handle leaving him?”

  “It’s hard, but eventually you have to let your parents leave the nest.” Diane was half joking. Maggie knew she’d miss her father terribly.

  “And what about Hank? Aren’t you going to miss him?”

  Diane broke into a radiant grin. “Hank’s gonna be our ride.”

  50

  ARRANGEMENTS

  The friends did not have much time. Over the next few days, the news broke about Danny’s romance with Maggie. The press had no proof of her involvement with his “scam,” but that didn’t stop them from speculating. Local news anchors made a meal of her “Thanksgiving Sex Show” with Danny. Most of Maggie’s neighbors had no comment, but ancient Gus Filby talked enough for everybody, wheezing: “When I saw them in that there garage, I almost had an infarction.”

  The authorities had not yet noticed the school’s conveniently timed trade. But they would close in soon. The feds had already called to schedule “an interview” with Maggie. When she asked if she needed a lawyer, the agent told her: “Oh, I don’t think you need to waste your money on that, so long as you’ve got nothing to hide.”

  That night, Maggie finished packing her things and headed over to Diane’s house. They were all there: Lars, Diane, Hank, Richard, even Jeannie. For once, Maggie was not in charge. Diane was.

  Diane had started the ball rolling by enlisting Hank. Calling him on Skype, she’d explained the MathPal saga—the falsified data, her bogus call to Simon Petal, all of it. Then she relayed Richard’s thoughts, how he’d told her and Maggie to lawyer up because the feds would be onto them in no time. Diane said, “I’m not waiting round for that. I want to bug out.” “Bug out” was prepper-speak for “leave the country.”

  Hank asked, “So what do you need from me on this, Di?”

  “I was hoping you could use your connections to help me and Maggie get outta here. I know you’ve got that place down south. Can we maybe use it?”

  Hank hesitated, “You mean, like, uh, go there on your own? Without me?”

  “Well, me and Maggie could go alone if we have to. But I was kinda hoping you’d come with us . . . if you’ve got the time, and, um, the inclination.”

  Hank nodded, and Diane saw
the ghost of a smile surface under his beard. “Well, that’s all right, then.”

  “What’s all right?”

  “I’m in.” His smile broadened. “But I’ve got terms.”

  Diane straightened in her seat. “What terms?”

  “I handle our documents, disguises too. Okay?”

  Diane nodded. “Fine, I was always crap at doing makeup anyway. That it?”

  Hank said, “I don’t trust strangers. So if we go, we use my plane, my people to get down there. Not yours.”

  Diane shot back, “Well, that’s easy. I haven’t got any ‘people.’”

  “Yes, you do. You got me.”

  Diane smiled. “I guess I do.”

  Hank had a “go plan” all set within the hour. Maggie balked. “How can he put this together so fast?”

  Diane smirked. “He’s been prepping for Armageddon for ten years. We’re talking some serious groundwork.”

  Lars proved to be a harder sell than Hank. Diane told him, “I can’t do time, Dad. If I go in with hardened criminals, who knows? There’ll be loads of peer pressure. They could turn me to the dark side. I’m a people pleaser, and you know it.”

  Lars was skeptical, so it was Hank who persuaded him. Hank explained his plan in painstaking detail. Maggie wasn’t sure how much Lars actually understood, but he nodded sagely—like a man pretending to understand an auto mechanic explain what went wrong with his carburetor. Maggie suspected that Hank himself—more specifically, Hank as Diane’s lifetime mate—was what appealed to Lars. His little girl would finally settle down.

  Maggie brought Richard on board to help with the plan’s financing. He’d sell off their house and use his financial wizardry to get the proceeds to her—without being detected. It would be the first and only time Maggie would benefit from Richard’s furtiveness. She told him to consider his amends complete. She asked him to do one last favor for her, and he immediately agreed.

  The group met and chatted amiably as they wolfed down their last supper together. Only Jeannie sat silent. Lars had insisted on telling Jeannie everything, and Diane had seen the sense in that. Her father couldn’t bear the secret alone, and Diane trusted Jeannie—she had no choice.

  After they packed Hank’s truck, Lars and Richard hugged “their girls.” Diane huddled with her father, while Jeannie drifted over to Maggie’s side. She asked Maggie, “Are you going to be all right without them?”

  Maggie frowned in puzzlement. “Without . . .”

  “Without the students, your students.”

  Maggie and Jeannie had had their differences, but they were both educators. School was their medium. It was the “what” in “what mattered.” Maggie sniffed back a tear. “I’ll be all right. And they’ll be all right too. You’ll see to that, won’t you?”

  Jeannie nodded, and the two women embraced. Jeannie’s arms were surprisingly strong for such an old broad, and that comforted Maggie. Her students would need someone strong.

  Then it was over. Hank and Diane sat up front while Maggie sat in the back. She peered out the back window until Lars, Jeannie, and Richard disappeared from view.

  51

  THE CHIPS FELL WHERE?

  Winnie had warned Maggie that once she unleashed the press, she would not be able to control the MathPal story. And Winnie was right. The first wave of stories focused on Danny’s lies, how he’d tricked everyone into believing that a gussied-up video game could revolutionize the way American schools taught math. Next, the press honed in on Danny’s “tryst” with Maggie.

  Then came the bomb that Maggie dreaded most—the government revealed the district’s suspiciously timed stock trade. For one awful news cycle, the world was convinced that the district superintendent, Arlene Horvath, had used her feminine wiles to dupe Simon Petal into making that trade. But then Arlene produced an alibi, and the government quickly figured out that the call ordering the trade had come from Carmel Knolls Elementary.

  And so the press returned to the Pilgrim “sex show” incident. Fascination grew as the tabloids fabricated a love triangle. Low-resolution iPhone photos had caught Danny walking next to a particularly dishy blonde—PTA denizen Felicia Manis. Were the couple an item? Was Maggie a woman scorned? Felicia denied the affair, and so did Danny. But both benefited from the speculation. Felicia’s husband, who had taken his wife for granted of late, began showering her with attention—reasoning that if other people thought his wife was a “siren,” he should too.

  As for Danny, his courtly protestations that he had never slept with Felicia only heightened his already obvious desirability. He developed a dedicated fan base. Ultimately, the Securities and Exchange Commission settled with him out of court, forcing Edutek to pay a stiff fine. Danny also had to promise to never again serve as an officer of a public company. Banished from the tech industry, he embarked on a lucrative career as a motivational speaker and life coach. His TED Talk on “Resiliency & Redemption” garnered millions of views.

  Meanwhile, Richard managed to quietly sell Maggie’s house and funnel most of the proceeds to her without detection. He saved a small sum to carry out his last errand on her behalf. Using a prepaid credit card, he arranged for a prop plane to fly over Carmel Knolls Elementary on the first day of school. At recess, hundreds of students looked up to see a bright banner being towed across the sky, saying: “HAVE A GREAT YEAR! —MRS. MAYFIELD & MRS. PORTER.”

  Richard still works in corporate compliance for a large San Diego company. It’s a dull job, but he fills his ample spare time participating in triathlons. One day at a time, he has managed to abstain from pornography for more than a year now. He is very eager to date, and all that that entails.

  Life at Carmel Knolls Elementary went on, but not as smoothly as it had under Maggie’s benevolent dictatorship. Jeannie Pacer took over as principal, but would only agree to serve on an interim basis. She insisted that she wanted to retire soon so she could spend more time with her life partner, Lars.

  With the district’s STEAM budget secured, Mr. Baran, Mr. Carlsen, and Miss Pearl stand to enjoy years of job security. Their only complaint—whispered among themselves—is that they cannot thank the two women who engineered their happiness.

  Jeannie and Lars donated the remnants of Diane’s menagerie to the school, and Mr. Carlsen keeps the animals’ cages in a well-lit section of his room, marked as “PORTER’S CORNER.” Murray the parrot has become a school mascot, and Mr. Carlsen has trained him to shout “Eureka!” on cue.

  Connor Bellman has advanced to second grade, and—having formed an exercise habit that he’d keep for the rest of his life—he pays attention in class as much as possible without ever crossing into brown-nose territory. Lucy and Rachel have moved on to fourth grade, and are—in Lucy’s words—“ready to dominate.” Lucy continues spending as much time as she can in Mr. Carlsen’s lab while Rachel lingers in the art room with Sadie Pearl. Both girls are excelling. They plan to create comic books about two female superheroes who run a school for misfits by day and fight crime by night. Lucy will write it, and Rachel will handle the illustrations. Mrs. Wong says an author credit will help Lucy get into college, and Mrs. Klemper has vowed to use her “connections” to get it published.

  Arlene Horvath—initially embarrassed by the MathPal debacle—managed to turn it to her advantage. She took as much credit as possible for “uncovering” the MathPal’s many deficiencies. And she has intensified her public relations efforts, speaking at dozens of education administration conferences. She dreams of someday rising to become the United States’ Secretary of Education, but fears she may not be qualified for such a lofty position.

  Walter Tilmore could easily afford to lose the millions he ultimately lost when Edutek’s stock tanked. He made noises about suing Danny and Edutek, but got distracted by other business ventures. He still enjoys showing off his elaborate doomsday bunker, but he has had trouble retaining talented personnel.

  Maggie and Diane remain at large, their whereabouts unknown.


  52

  SOMEWHERE IN ECUADOR . . .

  Schoolchildren frolic on a sunbaked playground. The noon bell rings out, and most of them trudge back to class. Two boys—dark-haired brothers with large almond-shaped eyes—linger behind on the playground. The older brother has found a black widow. He asks, “Only female black widows are dangerous, right? Or was it the males?” The little brother says he’ll catch the spider and pull its pants down to find out. The boys bicker about how to check spider genitalia. And suddenly, a wolf whistle pierces the air. Only one person in the boys’ lives whistles like that: Señora Marguerite, head of school.

  She orders the brothers to back slowly away from the spider, telling them in perfect—albeit too formal—Spanish that they must never touch spiders. She says, “Don’t you know what happened to that little girl in Portoviejo? The old lady in Machala?”

  The boys’ eyes widen to become saucers. “No, what happened?” one asks.

  But the Señora just closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly. Some things are too grisly to be discussed. The boys run back to class.

  The Señora grabs a piece of wood and dispatches the spider with a whack. From behind her, a tall gray-eyed blonde calls out: “That’s not very neighborly. We need those spiders to kill off the damn bugs.”

  Maggie turns and smiles at Diane, who ambles awkwardly onto the playground, her belly swollen. She’s seven months pregnant. Maggie asks, “How’re you doing today?”

  “I’m fat. My feet are swollen, and this alien spawn inside me won’t stop kicking. My days on the catwalk are over.”

  Maggie says, “Oh, honey, don’t say that. You. Are. Glowing.” Maggie means this, but she infuses the compliment with sarcasm so Diane will accept it. “Where’s Hank?”

  “Working on the nursery.”

  Maggie cooed, “See, he’s excited about the baby.”

  “He just wants more company in that stupid bomb shelter. We have to be the only three-room schoolhouse in Ecuador with its own doomsday pit.”