An Old-Fashioned Education

by Fiona Wilde

  She shoved the tray back to him, angry now.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’d rather starve. I don’t want to be here anyway.”

  She rose and rushed from the main hall, Walt Springer following. He did not quicken his pace. The community had seen enough drama this day to set tongues wagging for months. They hardly needed more. Besides, how far could she get in the snow?

  The answer was not far at all. There was nearly a foot on the ground and it was starting to come down again. Even with sheepskin-lined waterproof boots and thick socks her feet were cold within minutes. Each breath of cold air she took burned her lungs. The only warmth came from the tears coursing down her cheeks.

  “Polly,” he called after her.

  She glanced back over her shoulder. “Leave me alone!”

  “Polly!”

  She stopped, knowing he was just going to catch her if she kept going. He walked around to stand in front of her.

  “Look,” he said. “I know this isn’t easy.”

  “Don’t pretend to commiserate, Mr. Springer,” she said, her voice quavering with anger. “You’re not the one who’s been beaten. I am. And don’t tell me that it’s okay because everyone here accepts it. You should have disclosed this community’s beliefs and practices before you called me out here. I never, ever would have come if I’d known this would happen to me. In fact, I can see now why your wife left!”

  The look of hurt on Walt Springer’s face was not as satisfying as she’d thought it would be. In fact, it made Polly feel even worse for taking a cheap shot when he was clearly trying to be more understanding.

  “That was part of it, yes,” he said. “When we came here she was in full support of what we were doing. But then she changed. She decided it wasn’t for her and left me and the kids.”

  “You wouldn’t change it to keep her?” Polly asked.

  Walt looked down. “I never got the chance. She took off in the middle of the night. I think she just … snapped. But you have to understand something, Polly. My wife loved our children. She knew the community’s philosophies were no longer for her but trust me; if she thought they were bad or dangerous, she’d have never have left the kids.”

  “But why did she leave them?”

  “The note she left said they would be safer here. She knew she had a lot to learn on the outside. Their friends are here, everything they know.”

  “Has she been in contact with them?”

  He shook his head. “No, and that’s the hardest part, for me and for them. I know here in my heart–” He put his hand on his chest. “–that she’s safe and doing okay. I know that at some point she’s probably going to fight me for custody. Who knows, she may even use the community practices as ammunition. But I can’t think about that. I have the responsibility of not just my family, but every other family, on my shoulders. If I’m overly strict, that’s why. If one link breaks it all crumbles.”

  Polly pondered his words.

  “I know what I did was reckless,” she said. “I’m sorry. You have to know that I didn’t intentionally break the radio.”

  “I do know that,” he said. “But when you realized that you had, you should have come to me.”

  “I was afraid,” she said. Her teeth were chattering now. “That’s part of the problem I have with this place. How honest is someone going to be if they know they’re going to be punished?”

  “Very honest,” he said. “Especially since lying doubles the penalty for whatever the miscreant is trying to hide.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “This is going to be very hard for me to understand.”

  “There’s something else,” he said. “Something I don’t think you’re going to understand any better. I suppose I should tell you, but not out here. We need to go to your cabin.”

  He turned, and Polly had no choice but to trudge along behind him. She didn’t think he was going to spank her again, and at least in the cabin she could get warm. But as she entered through the door, she stopped cold.

  “Is that everything?” Walt was asking Noni.

  “I think so,” Noni said quietly, motioning towards several cardboard boxes containing Polly’s belongings.

  She looked at Noni. “What’s going on?”

  But the other woman didn’t even acknowledge that she’d been spoken to. “I’ll be going if there’s nothing else you need.”

  “There’s not. Thank you,” Walt said.

  Polly felt a surge of hope. “Does this mean I get to leave after all?”

  Walt shut the door and turned to her.

  “I told you, Polly. There’s no way out of Pepper’s Hollow until the spring thaw. But you are leaving the cabin. We had a meeting at lunch, the whole community. They insisted on it. You’ve upset a lot of people, and the general feeling is that you are too much of a loose cannon to be left unsupervised. But everyone else is too upset with you to have you stay with any of them. So, you’re moving in with me.”

  He fell quiet, allowing the words to sink in. Polly felt rooted to the floor by her still thawing feet. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Now she wasn’t just trapped in the community, but she was being forced to live with the very man who had twice spanked her.

  “Please, Mr. Springer. I won’t do it again.”

  He sighed. “It was a community decision,” he said. “That puts it out of my hands, Polly.”

  She crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea to move another woman into your house with Aidan and Kerry just months after their mother’s gone. Have you even stopped to think about them?”

  “The kids have to learn early that everyone makes sacrifices for the community. People talk, and they know what’s going on and why you will be staying with us.”

  She shook her head. “This is not a good idea,” she said. “Not at all. It’s not a good idea for me to stay with you and it’s not a good idea for me to keep teaching. The people don’t respect me. The students don’t respect me.”

  “They’ll do what they’re told,” he said.

  Polly gave a harsh laugh. “Do you really think you can just demand that people respect you?”

  “We’re not telling the kids to respect you, Polly. We’re telling them to act respectfully towards them. If you want their respect—or the respect of their parents for that matter—you’re going to have to earn it.”

  He leaned down and picked up a box. “Come on. I’ve got some guys coming over to bring the boxes to my cabin.”

  “I can carry my own things,” she said defiantly, reaching down to pick up the largest one. It was heavy, but she was determined to trudge through the snow with her load and did just that. Walt Springer didn’t stop her. He picked up another box and followed, and then followed her back to help her retrieve the other boxes.

  When they had taken the last of them to Walt’s cabin, he directed to her to a small room. The bed and dresser from her cabin was already in there.

  “This was my home office,” he said. “Aidan and Kerry are going to share a room now since I took Aidan’s room for that purpose.”

  “How do the kids feel about that?” she asked.

  Walt Springer shrugged. “Kerry all but worships Aidan, so she’s excited. Aidan’s less than thrilled, but we have the biggest cabin and plenty of his friends share a room with their siblings. He’ll hardly be the only one.”

  That didn’t make Polly feel any better, but she was weary of engaging in an argument she was sure she would never win. She excused herself to her new room and began unpacking her belongings. Outside, the snow continued to fall. It was already dark and Polly felt as though spring would never come. She wanted nothing more than to sit on the bed and have a good long cry. She’d never been so depressed.

  She thought about Walt Springer’s wife, and wondered how she could have supported the community. She thought about how hard it must have been for her to make the decision to leave. Melissa Springer must have been very desperate to leave to go without he
r children. Walt Springer seemed sad when reflecting on her departure, but it also seemed to be something he didn’t dwell on.

  She heard the front door open, heard the sounds of children. Their father was telling them to mind their manners and be polite; she knew the conversation was about her. She was tempted to lock the door but instead she found herself getting off the bed and leaving the room. Aidan and Kerry were getting out of their coats. The conversation had turned to the play date they’d just had with Peter Criner. When they saw Polly, the fell silent.

  “Kids, remember when I told you that we were going to have a guest? Well, it’s your teacher. Ms. Perkins is going to stay with us for awhile.”

  “But Peter said his mama said she’s a bad person.” Kerry whispered the words to her father, but Polly heard them just the same.

  Walt Springer’s face grew grim.

  “Peter’s mama shouldn’t gossip,” he said. “And you don’t pay any mind to what Peter said. Ms. Perkins is our guest, and your teacher. So you’ll treat her with the respect you’d treat any other adult, understand?”

  “Yes, Papa,” the kids said in unison.

  “Now go say hello,” he ordered.

  Aidan and Kerry walked over. Kerry had her thumb in her mouth. Polly’s heart twisted with sympathy. She felt sorry for the little girl who had to deal with her mother’s departure. Walt likely had his hands full dealing with the community. She wondered how much time that left for the kids.

  “Hello,” she said. She leaned down and tapped Kerry’s chest. “That’s a very pretty dress.”

  “My mama made it,” she said.

  “She won’t take it off except on washday, and then she cries until Papa gives it back to her,” Aidan said.

  “Well,” Polly said. “We all get attached to our most favorite things, don’t we? Did you know that I still sleep with my stuffed dog Roscoe?”

  “No you don’t,” Aidan said skeptically. “You’re just saying that to make Polly feel better.” He was scowling and Walt started to step forward. Polly stopped him with an imploring look.

  “Wait right here,” she said. She went into her new room and emerged less than a minute later with a threadbare brown dog with one button eye and a patched ear.

  “Here he is,” she said, leaning down again. “I got Roscoe when I was six. I was very sick. I had a disease called leukemia, but I was very lucky. My doctors caught it early and they cured me. But being in the hospital was scary and because my parents had to go home some nights to take care of my sister and brother. They got Roscoe so I wouldn’t be scared and lonely. He was a good protector.” She held him up and looked at him. “Some people just see a toy when they look at Roscoe, but I’ve always felt he was real. That’s the power of a child’s love. It can make amazing things happen.”

  Kerry smiled. Even Aidan seemed interested now.

  “Can I hold him?” he asked.

  “I want to hold him!” Kerry objected.

  “You can take turns holding him while you sit,” Polly said, motioning to the couch. “Just be careful. He’s still magical, but he’s an old dog now so we need to treat him gently.”

  The kids retreated to the sofa with the dog.

  Polly looked up to see Walt staring down at her.

  “I didn’t know you had leukemia,” he said.

  “Why should you? I never told you.”

  “Is that why you wanted to be a teacher, because you had such a rough childhood?”

  “My childhood wasn’t rough, Mr. Springer. I had a fantastic childhood thanks to some really remarkable people who loved me and took care of me, doctors, nurses, my parents, and teachers who cared enough to bring work to me when I couldn’t get to class. It was the people who made a difference in my life that made me want to be a teacher.”

  He grew quiet.

  “Can I ask you a question now?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “How is Kerry handling her mother’s absence?” Polly didn’t tell him that she believed the child’s clinging to the dress was really just a way of clinging to her mother.

  “She’s doing fine. She goes to school, has friends, plays with her brother. She doesn’t talk about her mom much anymore. I think she’s gotten over it.”

  Polly raised an eyebrow.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Polly said, unwilling to engage Walt Springer in the conversation. She was stuck with him now, and the last thing she wanted to do was make him feel defensive. And there was no way that she could say the things that were on her mind at that moment without making him feel like he was being judged for exhibiting clear signs of denial.

  But the sad face of the little girl haunted her that night as she went to bed. As Polly sat in the dark holding her stuffed dog, she wondered what she could do to help Kerry and her brother. It was clear from Walt’s resistance to any kind of testing for the obviously hyperactive Peter Criner that he did not hold a favorable view of the kinds of interventions that could help struggling children. It made her angry, and in her mind, it was just another sign of his arrogance; Walt Springer obviously thought that he could handle everything on his own, whether he could or not.

  It didn’t help matters that her bottom still hurt. With Roscoe she felt safe, but tomorrow she’d emerge from the Springer’s cabin and face a sea of hostile faces. She’d take the helm in a classroom filled with children who had overheard their parents talk about how she’d broken the radio and been spanked by Mr. Springer. How was she supposed to earn the kids’ respect? Judging by some of the hateful looks she’d seen from the Pepper’s Hollow community that very day, most of them would have likely heard directly or indirectly about her sins against the community.

  She turned over, clutching Roscoe. Outside the snow continued to fall and the wind was howling. She could hear the trees around the cabin groaning. Somewhere a wolf howled, a long, low, mournful sound. Pepper’s Hollow was a lonely place for someone who felt alone.

  Polly heard a rap at her door. She opened it and was surprised to see Kerry standing there.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

  “I heard a wolf,” the little girl said.

  Polly knelt down. “I heard him too. But I think he’s far away.”

  “My mama used to say that,” Kerry said. “She used to say the wind carried their voices down from the mountain, but that didn’t mean they were close by.”

  “Your mama was right.” Polly whispered the reassurance as she pushed a strand of hair away from the little girl’s angelic face.

  Kerry was looking at Roscoe, which Polly just realized she’d carried to the door when she answered it.

  “Does he keep you safe from wolves?”

  “Hmm. I never thought about it?” Polly held Roscoe at face level and appraised him. “He kept me safe from cancer, and that’s worse than wolves. Or it seemed worse to me. So I’m thinking yes.”

  Polly gasped then as if having an epiphany. “You know what, Kerry? I bet Roscoe would make you feel safe, too. It’s been a long time since he’s had a job. Would you like to sleep with him tonight?”

  “Oh, Ms. Perkins…I couldn’t,” the little girl said politely, but her blue eyes were fixed on the stuffed dog with such longing that Polly knew she would have to insist.

  “Please,” she said. “Do it as a favor to me. Roscoe sometimes gets bored. Grownups aren’t scared of much. It’ll make him feel useful.” She held out the dog. “Please? I’d really appreciate it.”

  The little girl took the dog almost reverently.

  “OK,” she said. “I’ll give him lots to do. I’m scared a lot. And sad.” She paused. “But don’t tell Daddy. I don’t want him to know.”

  “My lips are sealed,” Polly said, and watched as the little girl trundled off to bed with her arms wrapped tight around Roscoe.

  Polly smiled through her tears, thinking that maybe being stuck at Walt’s might not be a bad thing after all. Maybe she could make a differe
nce in Pepper’s Hollow, at least for two hurting children. And maybe, just maybe, she could help their father too.

  Chapter Six

  Kerry brought Polly’s stuffed dog to the breakfast table the next morning.

  “How did you get that?” Aidan asked, shooting a look at Polly that suggested that he already knew. Polly bit her tongue; the little boy was already a lot like his father.

  “Your sister heard a wolf last night,” Polly said. “I told her she could borrow my little dog since he’s always made me feel safe.”

  “That’s stupid,” Aidan said. “The wolves are far away. They just sound close.”

  Polly looked at Walt Springer, hoping he might call his son down. When he didn’t she fixed the boy with a hard gaze.

  “The dog helped ease her concerns and she got a good night’s sleep. So it worked.” She paused. “Kerry is your little sister, Aidan. You should be kinder to her.”

  This got Walt’s attention. “The boy’s been through a lot.”

  Polly studied him for a moment. “Indulging his hostility isn’t going to help,” she said.

  Walt slammed his fork down. “My son’s not–” He caught himself and looked at Aidan, as if just remembering that his son was still in the room.

  “You’re the village teacher,” he said. “You are hired to teach, not to tell the parents how to raise their children.”

  Polly looked at Aidan, who glanced at her and grinned. It bothered her that what was so obvious to her, even as a stranger to these children, was lost on their father. Kerry was desperately sad over her mother’s departure. Her brother was desperately angry. As soon as she’d shown any kindness to the Kerry, she’d soaked it up like a thirsty sponge. Her brother—made hurt and fearful by abandonment—was distrustful and hostile to any maternal figure.

  But Polly knew this wasn’t the time or the place. She didn’t want to start the day by arguing with Walt, especially since she was already dreading her first day back in the classroom as the most hated woman in Pepper’s Hollow.

  She stood and helped Walt clear the breakfast dishes. As she did, she heard Walt scold his son, who was making it clear that he didn’t want to walk to school with Polly.