Kevin chuckled.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should. My brothers are nice people."
When they reached Bank Street, they turned east and lost a couple that had followed them from the park. A moment later, they found Seventh Street, headed south, and began the final stretch to the Marshall house. They had the street to themselves.
"Do you miss your family?" Kevin asked.
"I do. I miss them a lot. They mean the world to me."
Sarah glanced at Kevin, expecting to see an approving nod, but instead saw a man who appeared suddenly troubled. Surely he didn't expect her to say that she didn't miss her family.
"Why do you ask?"
"I'm just curious. A lot of people who travel far from home do so to get away from home. I knew you wanted to get away from your fiancé, but I didn't know whether you wanted to get away from anyone or anything else."
"I don't. I miss my family and Indiana. I'd like to go back someday."
"I see."
Sarah saw that his serious expression hadn't changed.
"You seem troubled by that statement. Wanting to see one's family is not unusual."
"It's not unusual at all," Kevin said. "In fact, it's perfectly normal. Who wouldn't want to see their family again? Most people like their family."
"Don't you like your family?"
"Oh, I do. I like them a lot. I miss them probably as much as you miss your family, but I sometimes wonder whether there aren't situations when it's best to leave them for a long time."
Sarah looked at him soberly.
"Do you mean situations like ours?" she asked.
Kevin nodded.
"I can't imagine never seeing my family again, Kevin. I truly can't."
Sarah tightened her hold on his arm but kept her eyes forward.
"Even so, I understand it's the nature of man to leave his home and go forth into the world. I wouldn't be here if I didn't possess at least a bit of an independent streak. I guess I wouldn't know what I was capable of doing until confronted with that decision."
"I'm not suggesting anything, Sarah. I'm just inquiring. I understand your view completely. You wouldn't be normal if you didn't want to see your family again."
Sarah brightened when she saw Kevin break into a soft smile. Whatever was troubling him had clearly passed or at least had been relegated to a back burner.
The next five minutes passed in blissful silence as they continued down Seventh to Garnet and within a stone's throw of the Marshall house. The stars were out in force on the surprisingly warm night but not the comet. Edmond Halley's namesake had long passed out of sight and wouldn't return until the impossibly distant year of 1986. Sarah wondered whether she would live long enough to see what Kevin had called a "dirty snowball" a second time. She doubted it.
Sarah sighed as Kevin led her halfway up the walk to the house, stopped, and took her in his arms. This was the part she liked best, the part where the Marshalls were asleep, the street was dark, and he kissed her like she was the only person who had ever mattered.
"I could stay here all night," Kevin said. "It would be worth it just to look at your face."
Sarah laughed.
"What am I going to do with you?"
"You can pack me off to Indiana."
"Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Johnson. That thought has crossed my mind."
Kevin smiled and kissed her softly. He studied her face for a moment, brushed her bangs off her forehead with his hand, and looked at her with serious eyes.
"You look a little preoccupied tonight," he said. "Do you have something on your mind?"
Sarah brought her hands to her cheeks.
Is it that obvious?
She did, in fact, have something on her mind. She had thought about that something for weeks but had not mustered the courage to speak to him about it. After looking at the starry sky for a moment, she decided that now was as good a time as any to change that.
"There is something I've been meaning to ask you," Sarah said as she fidgeted in his arms. "It's been on my mind for some time now."
"What's that?"
She took a deep breath.
"What are you going to tell Principal Morrison if he offers you a permanent position?"
"I don't know. I honestly don't."
"I was afraid you'd say that."
"Why are you afraid?"
"I'm afraid because I don't want to lose you. I'm afraid that if we become separated for any reason, our relationship won't survive."
Kevin grinned.
"What now?" Sarah asked. "Did I say something wrong?"
Kevin chuckled and then looked at her more thoughtfully.
"No. What you just said was music to my ears," he said. "I don't want to be separated either, and I plan to do everything in my power to prevent that. I don't have all the answers now, and I may not have the answers for a while, but I do know two things."
"What's that?"
"The first is that I won't make any career-related decision without putting us first."
Sarah brightened.
"What's the second?"
"The second thing should be pretty obvious. I love you, Sarah Thompson, that's what. I have loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you. I will love you tomorrow and the next day and every day after that. I'm not going anywhere."
She laughed as she wiped away a tear.
"Now what's the matter?" he asked.
"Oh, it's nothing really. It's just that two of us are hearing music."
CHAPTER 53: KEVIN
Wednesday, June 8, 1910
For the two hundred students of Shoshone County High School, the academic year of 1909-1910 had ended Tuesday with morning classes, an all-school picnic, hugs, and a few leftover tears for the boy who would never graduate with the Class of 1912. For most of the faculty and staff, it had ended later that afternoon, when they cleaned out the desks. For Kevin Johnson, the year carried over to the next morning and one last meeting with Principal Edward Morrison.
"Come on in," Morrison said to Kevin as he stood before an open door.
Kevin walked into the familiar room, took a seat, and settled into a lightly upholstered chair that Morrison reserved for interviews, interrogations, friendly chats, and assorted meetings with faculty, staff, and students. After more than a dozen trips to Morrison's office, Kevin had come to think of the chair as his own.
"How are you doing this morning?"
"I'm doing well," Kevin said.
"That's good," Morrison said. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
"I think I'm OK for now, sir, but thank you."
"In that case then, let's get started. I'm sure you recall why I scheduled this meeting. As I believe I told you last month, I want to provide you with an evaluation of your performance as an instructor here. I'm sure you will find my report useful no matter where you go from here."
"That's nice to hear."
"I don't do evaluations for everyone. Most of my staff and teachers have left for the summer. I expect most of them to return in August and perform to the same high standards when they assume their positions next year. I'm treating you differently because your situation is different and because I want to fully explore the possibilities for the future."
"I understand."
Morrison grabbed a folder from a vertical organizer on his desk, opened it, and sorted through several papers. He grabbed three sheets and closed the folder.
"I want to begin by going over some observations by your peers. Last week I invited faculty members to give me their thoughts on your performance not only as a science and economics teacher but also as a colleague. As you can see from the size of this folder, quite a few accepted that invitation."
"It looks like everyone weighed in," Kevin said nervously.
"Everyone did weigh in, as you put it. Most wrote letters. Some spoke to me privately last week or at the picnic. All offered candid opinions."
"What did the
y have to say?"
"All but one offered the highest praise."
"Which one didn't?"
"I can't divulge that information because I promised the individuals confidentiality, but I can and will read snippets from three letters that I believe properly summarize your performance."
"OK."
"The first is from your lone critic. He wrote: 'I believe that Mr. Johnson has, on balance, performed satisfactorily, but I strongly question his methods and his priorities. He seems convinced that the only way to educate students is to entertain them. In my years as an instructor, I have found the opposite to be true. Even so, I believe Mr. Johnson has considerable potential.'"
Kevin laughed to himself as he heard the words. Sam Garrison had his DNA all over those comments. The chemistry and botany teacher was just jealous that he had thought of the volcano experiment first.
"That's fair," Kevin said.
"The second letter is more complimentary. This person wrote: 'Mr. Johnson is the most creative and inspiring educator I have seen at this school. I enjoyed working with him this spring and hope to have the opportunity to work with him again in the fall."
Kevin smiled. He knew that Thomas Wainwright had offered those thoughts. He considered the Latin and rhetoric teacher to be the most progressive thinker in the school. He had enjoyed their time together on various committees and collaborative projects.
"Several other instructors made similar comments," Morrison said. "Regardless of what they thought of your teaching methods, they found you a pleasure to work with."
"I see."
Morrison put the first two letters in the folder and picked up the third. He paused for a few seconds and looked away before returning to the science teacher with a friendly smile.
"I saved this letter for last because it represents my own views on your performance. I will read it in its entirety. The teacher wrote: "Though I'm new to the field of education, I know enough to know that Kevin Johnson possesses uncommon ability as an instructor. I teach many of his students and cannot count the times I've seen them wander into my classroom with wide smiles and even wider eyes. This man does more than educate the students of this school. He transforms them. He inspires them. He has accomplished more in twelve weeks than I have accomplished in nine months. I can only hope that we see more of him in the years to come.'"
Kevin didn't even have to break a sweat on that one. He wanted to rush out of the Morrison's office, run to the Marshall house, and carry Sarah off to some distant land. He didn't think it was possible to love anyone more than he loved her at that moment.
"That's very nice."
"It is," Morrison said, "and it's not all. I also have a stack of letters I've received from students, parents, and members of the community. It seems that your peers are not the only ones who appreciate what you've done."
Morrison retrieved and opened a second folder from the vertical organizer. He pulled what looked like a letter written by a girl and placed the folder to the side.
"Because these letters were sent to me unsolicited, I am not bound to keep the names of the writers confidential. You can review them here or take them home. It doesn't matter to me. Most say essentially the same thing. There is one letter, however, I would like to share with you."
"OK."
"It comes from a young lady who will be a sophomore next year. She writes: "Dear Principal Morrison, I know it's unusual for a student to write in support of a teacher, but I can't leave for the summer without letting you know what I think of Mr. Johnson. He is the best teacher I have and one of the nicest people I've ever known. He has challenged me and inspired me and made me believe that I can achieve as much as any boy. Because of him, I am now saving for college. I don't know if I'll get there, but I'm going to try. Please do what you can to keep him. I would like nothing more than to have him as a teacher for three more years."
Kevin smiled.
"I take it you know the author," the principal said.
"I'd bet a month's pay the letter's from Josie White."
"You'd win that bet, too, Mr. Johnson. Josie gave this letter to me on Friday. She's not the only student who supports you either. There are at least a dozen more letters in that folder."
"I'm grateful for their support. I really am," Kevin said. "I've enjoyed teaching every one of my classes. The kids have been great."
"I'm glad to hear that," Morrison said.
The principal took a sip of water, leaned back in his chair, and stared at Kevin. He looked like a man who had something to say but didn't know how to say it.
"This brings me to my own assessment of your performance."
Morrison sat upright and rubbed his hands on top of his desk.
"I admit that I initially shared some of your critic's concerns. I worried that students would think of your classes as recess and not as opportunities to learn the basics. I worried that they would finish this year unprepared for the next," he said. "I can see now, however, that my fears were unfounded. Your students appear ready not only to matriculate to the next grade but also the next level. I know of at least three boys who plan to attend college in the fall in part because you've convinced them that it's in their interest to do so. You've done a splendid job here."
"Thank you, sir."
"There is one final matter I'd like to discuss."
"What's that?"
"I'd like to discuss your future."
Kevin sighed. He had expected it to come to this. He knew he had done a good job and knew he would probably get an offer to stay on, but he still didn't know what to do about it. He was a time traveler, for God's sake, not a legitimate teaching candidate.
He had no more business entertaining a serious job offer than Bill and Ted on their Excellent Adventure. He loved teaching and inspiring others, but he was starting to worry that he had gone too far. It was one thing to haul a bride back to the future. It was another to alter the lives of many. Just because he felt good about what he was doing didn't make it right.
"OK."
"I have been authorized by the school board to offer you a full-time position for next year. You would teach the same classes in the same rooms and be eligible for a ten percent increase in pay. If you accept the offer, you would need to report to school no later than August 22."
"That's very generous of you."
"I realize that you may have other offers on the table. My colleagues in Kellogg and Coeur d'Alene have inquired about you several times in the past month. That's why I'm prepared to give you a week to think it over and consider your options. If you wish, we can meet here at the same time next Wednesday."
Kevin turned away from Morrison and gazed at two fixtures on a nearby wall. The first was a long shelf that supported several textbooks. The second was a framed photograph of the Class of 1909. The items separately meant nothing. Together they meant everything. Kevin returned to the administrator and looked him in the eyes.
"I don't need a week to think it over, Principal Morrison. I don't need another day. I accept your offer and your terms. I'll be back to teach in August."
CHAPTER 54: KEVIN
Friday, June 10, 1910
"I had a great time today," Kevin said.
Andy smiled from across a small table at the Shooting Star.
"I knew you would. You've been cooped up in Wallace too long. It was about time you got out and saw something else."
"Spokane's changed since the last time I saw it."
"In what way has it changed?"
There are more horses and fewer Hummers, for one thing.
"I don't know. It just seems different. It's growing."
"Didn't you see it on the train from Seattle?"
"No. I had my nose in a book."
"Pay more attention next time," Andy said. "If you keep sticking your nose in a book, you'll miss more than the growth of a city. The world is changing, my friend. Be a part of that change. Don't just read about it."
"Thanks, 'Dad.'"
; "I'm serious, Kevin. A smart guy like you should be making things happen."
"I am making things happen. I'm just making them happen in a small town."
"Yes, I know. Maude told me. Congratulations on your promotion."
"I detect a whiff of sarcasm, Mr. Reporter."
Andy laughed.
"I meant no offense. I'd have done the same had I a woman like Sarah waiting on me. I just think you should keep your mind open to other opportunities. I am."
"Is that why you spent thirty minutes talking to the publisher of the Spokane paper?"
"I didn't kill an entire day just to listen to hot air."
Kevin chuckled. He knew that much. He knew Andy hated political speeches, even when the speakers spoke about something as important as the national forests, but he figured he had been driven to go to Spokane by more than a desire to network with others in his field.
"Did you accomplish anything?"
"I did. I learned something. I learned that the paper plans to replace its city editor soon. The publisher advised me to stay put through July."
Kevin started to talk Andy out of going when he again recalled his grandfather's story about the Standard building during the Great Fire. He decided to keep quiet.
Andy sipped his whiskey and stared at Kevin. He looked at him thoughtfully for nearly a minute before breaking into a smile.
"What about you, Mr. Johnson? What grand plans have you for the summer? Should I stick around for an August wedding?"
Kevin laughed.
"Things aren't moving that fast, but they are progressing nicely. We had a breakthrough of sorts the other day."
"What kind of breakthrough?"
"We more or less assuaged each other's worst fears."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, for her part, Sarah told me that she'd consider living away from her family for the rest of her life. I have no desire to move to Indiana."
"I see."
"For my part, I told her that I was madly in love with her."
Andy laughed.
The Fire (Northwest Passage Book 4) Page 24
