Teacher

by R. L. Merrill

  Danny pushed past me to a bathroom across the hall. He sat on the counter and put his foot in the sink to rinse it off. He was still cursing under his breath, careful not to talk.

  I grabbed some tissue and said, “May I?”

  He snatched the tissue from my hand. The anger bleeding from him gave me pause.

  “How about I just go wait for you in the other room?”

  He nodded angrily and proceeded to clean up his foot.

  I turned and went back to his office. “Nora, is there anything I can do to help?”

  She was crouched on the ground with a dustpan. She looked up at me and shook her head, a sad smile on her face. “Nah, I can take care of this. You just go on and take care of him, can you?”

  I nodded and gave a nervous smile.

  When I turned around, Danny was coming out of the bathroom and he motioned for me to follow him into the far corner of the living room. There was a bar there in front of the massive glass wall. With my heels on we were close to the same height, but he had a very stocky build and probably outweighed me by about sixty pounds.

  I noticed he had a MacBook, which was a relief since all I had to work with was an ancient laptop I had checked out from the district. He gestured for me to sit next to him at the bar so I placed my bag on the chair next to me and sat, crossing my ankles. He glanced at my attire and ran a hand absently through his disheveled hair. Apparently at some point he'd had a mohawk, but the sides were grown in and the middle was just a wavy mess a couple of inches longer. He hadn't shaved for a few days and had a longer goatee. I noticed in the sunlight that his eyelashes were long and interspersed with blonde hairs. He had a faint spattering of freckles across his nose and I could see some on the top of his chest and the back of his neck. I gulped. Why was I paying attention to this? I shook myself and pulled out some papers I’d brought for him to look at.

  “Are you ready to get started?”

  He nodded, pulling at his lower lip, his leg bouncing rapidly on the stool.

  “Ok. You said Social Studies was your least favorite subject, so I thought we’d start by having you take some pre-tests. We use a program online for our students. They seem to get through it pretty well. I brought a laptop from the district, but yours looks like it might work better.” He nodded and booted it up. Then he pushed it towards me so I could log him in. I smiled at him. “This might be the quietest class I’ve ever taught.”

  He smirked and grabbed for a tablet. “Lucky for you,” he wrote.

  I smiled at him and pushed the laptop back towards him. “We’re starting with World History. Take this pretest and depending on how you do, we’ll see how much work you'll need to complete. I’m going to get started putting together assignments for you online and developing a calendar. I think Patricia told you I have a little under three more weeks of school left?” He nodded. “So while I’m at work you can get as much of the studying done that I outline for you as possible and then when I’m here you can take the tests. I do have a commitment on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, but other than that I am able to come over to work with you. After school is out I will only need those two nights free.”

  He didn’t look happy, but he nodded. He grabbed for the pad and wrote, “What do you do those nights?”

  I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to divulge of my personal life, so I said, “I have a second job. Those nights I work from five to 9 and sometimes on Saturday I sub for others.”

  He frowned. “What if I need you to work those times?”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “Mr. Black, I’ve made a commitment to this second job and I need to honor it.”

  He wrote hurriedly, “What do you do?”

  I blew out a breath and figured it wouldn’t hurt to tell him. “I teach dance at a studio downtown. Now go ahead and finish your test.”

  He smiled knowingly, glancing down at my legs before getting back to work.

  I busied myself with preparing a calendar for him and before I knew it he’d finished. I checked over his pretest score and saw he’d earned a 70%. I smiled at him.

  “That’s great! Now see, this score will exempt you from some of the other parts of the class.”

  He looked over the assignments and nodded.

  “I thought you said Social Studies was your least favorite?”

  He shrugged and wrote, “Hated the teachers. They thought they knew everything. Argued a lot.”

  I laughed and smiled at him. “Guess I am lucky you can’t talk.”

  He smirked at me. “I can still write and argue with you.”

  I smiled down at what he wrote. “I am happy to argue with you if it means you pass your tests. Is your throat feeling better or worse than yesterday?”

  He gave me a thumbs down.

  “Well, I’m glad you are taking care of yourself today. Now, take a look at the assignment list...”

  He nudged me with his elbow and started writing. “Sorry I was a jerk last night. Frustrated. Can't talk three more weeks at least. Can’t sing two more months.”

  I related to what he was going through on so many levels. I knew just how it felt to be kept from doing what you loved.

  “I’m so sorry. I know how hard this is for you.” He raised an eyebrow at me and obviously wanted an answer. “I’ve, uh, been in a similar position before. Anyway, if you’ll look at the-”

  He was nudging me again, but he didn’t make an attempt to write, just kept looking at me like he was waiting for me to continue. “What?” He gestured for me to continue.

  I guess I couldn’t play dumb with him. “I just know, ok? I’ve been in a similar situation.”

  He frowned and nodded.

  “Ok. Now, your assignment sheet shows you which sections you have to finish. For the first semester, you’ve exempted out of six of the eight Mastery tests. That means you only have to take those unit tests and then complete the last unit and the final. I recommend that you-”

  Nudging again.

  “Yes?”

  He wrote, “Are tests like one I took?” I nodded. “So if I pass these, I pass the semester?”

  I nodded at him, grinning. I was hoping this would make him optimistic and it seemed to do the trick.

  “Typically my students work on two classes at a time, so I thought I would give you a second class, an elective?”

  He wrote, “What elective?”

  I took a list out of my bag and showed it to him. “You have met your fine arts requirement with Band and have five more credits of that plus a semester of Health so you need thirty five more elective credits. You can choose whichever you want from this list.”

  He glanced over the list, chuckling at some of the selections. He pointed at Home Economics and snorted.

  “Yeah, some of them might not appeal to you. Unless you want to learn to make an apron? You actually have to sew for that class.”

  He shook his head vigorously.

  I laughed. “Ok, we’ll cross that one off.” He kept looking and pointed at Creative Writing. “You want to do Creative Writing?”

  He nodded and wrote, “I better be able to do that, I kind of get paid to do that.”

  “I guess so. Ok. I’ll leave you with the instructions for that class. The other thing I was going to suggest is that we choose a novel. You’ll need to read several for English and if you want to get a head start we can choose one now. I don’t want to overwhelm you, though.”

  He shrugged and shook his head.

  “Ok then. What kind of stuff do you like to read?”

  He motioned for me to follow him and he walked me down an opposite hall from where his office and the kitchen were. He opened the door to a room and I gasped in delight when I saw it.

  “Oh, my! This is a great library! Are these all yours?”

  I walked to the shelves and looked over the titles. There had to be several hundred books in here! He tapped me on the shoulder and held out his notepad.

  “Bought house from a film director. These we
re his. I've read some.”

  I tried not to act too giddy, but I wanted to rub myself all over the books, bathe in them! Can't help it. I'm a huge bibliophile!

  “Which ones did you like?”

  He walked over to a section on the far side and motioned with his hands that he’d read these selections. One of the shelves had a mixture of poetry, science fiction and classics. He pointed to Gone With The Wind.

  “You liked that one? That’s a great story.”

  He nodded.

  So not what I was expecting.

  I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure this guy out. I didn’t follow the tabloids, but I knew he’d been married to an actress at some point and that they had at least one child. I looked around the room and found not a single picture or anything that seemed personal. He seemed to follow my eyes and frowned at me.

  “Sorry, I was just thinking that your house doesn’t really say anything about you. Have you lived here long?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and wrote, “A couple years.” He didn’t seem to want to elaborate so I didn’t push.

  I glanced at a couple more titles on his shelf and saw that he’d read Jim Morrison’s poetry and a biography on the band.

  “Are you a Doors fan?” He nodded and I smiled. “Me too. Your reading tastes are kind of all over the place. Is it ok if I choose something? You can reject it.” He smiled at me. I looked around and saw he had a complete collection of Ray Bradbury. I pulled Fahrenheit 451 out for him and handed it to him. He read the back and looked up at me.

  “It’s really good. My students enjoy it. He’s a bit of a rebel.”

  He smirked and put the book in the hand with his notebook. And then we were staring at each other again. It seemed like he wanted to ask me something, but was trying really hard not to speak.

  “Ok. So. I’ll let you get to work? Did you want me to stay so you can take some more tests later or would you rather just study and I can come back another day?”

  He shook his head. He walked out to the bar quickly so I followed, practically at a trot, praying I didn’t slip in my heels. He put the novel down on the bar firmly and started writing on his notepad.

  “Told you last night want you to stay while I work. Got somewhere to be?”

  He shoved the pad in front of me angrily and I read what he wrote. I looked up at him and he had his arms crossed at his chest.

  “No, I don’t have anywhere to be. We just didn’t discuss a time and I wasn’t sure-”

  He sat down on the bar stool, frustrated. I blew out a breath and sat next to him.

  “Mr. Black, I’m here for you. You just tell me how long you want me to stay and I’ll stay. Ok? I’ve just never done this before and didn’t know what to expect.”

  He was staring at the computer screen, his brows furrowed. He looked over at me and I could see several emotions cross his face. He picked up his pen.

  “Never done this either. Sorry. You'll stay?”

  I nodded. “Sure. As long as you need me, Mr. Black. I've got no other plans.”

  His lips curved into a small smile and he nodded his thanks. He got to work and I took out more papers to grade. After I’d been there for a couple of hours, Nora came in and offered me another drink.

  “Thanks, I’d love some water,” I said.

  Danny held up two fingers and Nora said, “Of course, sugar. Did you want me to cook up that pasta tonight?”

  He nodded and looked to me with a questioning look.

  “What?” He rolled his eyes and started writing. “Do I like pasta? Yes, pasta is fine, but you don’t need to worry about me.”

  He frowned and wrote, “You need to eat, right? Teachers eat, too.”

  Food. Great. “Ok, whatever is fine with me.”

  Nora looked back and forth between us. “Alright. Danny I’ll have dinner ready by 6:00? I’m going to run to the store. Is there anything you want?”

  He nodded and wrote down, “More popsicles, rainbow sherbet, lime jello.” He smiled as he showed it to her and she rubbed his back.

  “Poor baby! Of course I’ll get you more. There’s still a few popsicles left if you want one.” He nodded. “I’ll bring it in before I leave. Miss Martin, anything I can get you?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  She raised an eyebrow as she looked between us again. She went back to the kitchen and returned with a blue popsicle for Danny. He smiled a huge boyish smile at her and I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly sexy his mouth looked as he put that popsicle between his lips and sucked. I shook myself and got back to work grading papers.

  By the time 6:00 rolled around, Danny had taken three unit tests, passing each one with scores between 85-98%, and was finished with the work for the fourth unit. Nora let us know dinner was ready and Danny motioned for me to come to the dining room.

  “I’m just going to wash up, is that ok?”

  He smiled and nodded, pointing to where the dining room was.

  I used the bathroom and washed my hands. I’d finished grading all of the papers I’d brought and had a calendar put together for Danny through July. Depending on how well he did with his classes, he just might be able to finish by the end of the summer. I figured a week to two weeks on each of the Social Studies and Science classes, but that was give or take. I dried my hands and pulled a hair tie out to put my hair up for dinner. I was uncomfortable eating here, but I guess I’d have to work around that.

  I walked to the dining room, which was off to the right of the living room, the opposite end from where we’d spent the day. I was stiff from sitting so long and had no way to alleviate that. Nora had set a space next to Danny, who was at the head of the table that would seat twelve if necessary. He watched me sit and put a cloth napkin on my lap. I slipped off my shoes and rolled my head around on my neck.

  Danny slid his notepad over to me. I read it and answered.

  “I’m fine, a little stiff. No worries.” But I was worried. If we were going to do marathon sessions like this I was going to have to do something. I massaged my knuckles under the table and he frowned at me.

  “You’re not all right,” he wrote.

  I shot him an irritated glance and thankfully Nora arrived then with our plates. She’d whipped up some tortellini with a cream sauce and steamed vegetables. It smelled delicious and I told her so.

  “Thank you, Miss Martin. I love to cook and Danny loves to eat so we make a good pair.” She ruffled his hair and he winked at her.

  I took a bite and the scent was nowhere near as delicious as the food itself. I almost moaned it was so good. I hadn’t had a real home cooked meal in forever. “Nora, this is amazing, thank you.”

  She smiled at me and asked if we needed anything else. Danny shook his head and she left us.

  “She’s quite a catch, your Nora. How did you find her?”

  He finished chewing and whispered, “She came with the house. The director was retiring and moving back to Europe, so I offered her a job. She is a phenomenal cook and she keeps this place running so I don’t have to worry about anything.” His smile fell at that and I wondered what else he had to worry about.

  “Is it just you here?”

  He nodded. “Well, me and my band. They mooch meals off her whenever they can. They’re all in love with her.”

  I laughed. “I can see why,” I answered. I wanted to ask so many more questions, but I didn’t want him to close down. I thought I’d stick to the facts. “I noticed you went to school in Los Gatos?" He nodded and continued to eat from his huge portion of pasta. “I grew up and went to school in Fremont.”

  He looked up at me and smiled. “So we were neighbors,” he whispered and I laughed.

  “I guess so.”

  He took a long drink of water and his hand reached for his throat.

  “You doing ok?”

  He nodded, but winced a little. “When did you come down here,” he whispered.

  My stomach clenched. I really didn’t want t
o get too into this topic so I just said, “For college at Irvine, and then decided to stay. I did my student teaching at Hollywood High and then got hired to teach Independent Study. I’ve been teaching there for five years.” And still live in the same shitty apartment, I didn’t say out loud. I took two more bites of my tortellini and felt too full. I sat back and finished my water.

  “Thank you for dinner, Mr. Black. Did you want to continue working?”

  He frowned when he looked at my plate. “You hardly ate anything.”

  God, was he really paying attention to what I ate? “I’m really full. It was great.”

  He shook his head. “Yeah, I thought we could start the Creative Writing?” He looked hopeful, so I resigned myself to more sitting.

  I reached down and rubbed at my ankles and knees, which were starting to tighten up. “I just need to run out to my car for a minute.”

  He nodded, looking confused.

  I stood up quickly and forgot I’d taken my shoes off. “Oops,” I said and I slipped back into them.

  “Ms. Martin,” he whispered. “Perhaps you want to dress more comfortably when you are here? I’ve never worn heels like that, but they don’t look comfortable.”

  I laughed. “They’re like second nature to me. I’ll be right back.” I turned stiffly from the table, biting my lip to keep from crying out.

  He must have caught my wince because his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. “What’s wrong? You don’t look well.”

  I tried to pull from his grip, but my wrists were hurting and he was holding on tight. “I’m fine, I just need to go to my car. Excuse me.” I looked down at his hand and he let go immediately. I hurried into the bar and grabbed my purse and the bag with my papers. I made it out the front door without stumbling, but the pain and stiffness was bad tonight. I got to my car, threw my bag in the back seat and reached for a water bottle so I could take some medicine. I’d have to be more careful. I’d have to get up and walk around more. I definitely would need to stretch out when I got home. I took a few paces up and down the sidewalk and felt things loosen up a bit, so I returned to the house.

  Danny was back at the bar and had turned some music on. I recognized the guitar playing of Gary Moore and smiled to myself.