Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Adermoor Cove: Donovan Road - 3. Chapter 3
She drained the last of her coffee. Enzo asked her if she would another cup. Moira politely declined. “No offense,” she said, “but the coffee here sucks. I don’t know how you guys drink this crap.”
Carlos laughed, a surprise given how his day was going. “You can blame that on Melvin, the dispatcher. No matter how many times we tell him the ratio of coffee grounds to cups he never seems to get it. But you know, we drink it so we don’t hurt his feelings. So you saw the dead roadkill on the side of the road. Mick Powers and Randal Stone were there. Then what happened?”
“The next day I didn’t see Ramoma but I spoke to her on the phone. I had more things I had to grade. I did, however, speak to her on the phone and that’s when we agreed to have lunch with you this last Thursday, Carlos, the morning after Vanessa Stanton was killed. We had lunch, remember?”
Carlos nodded. “I remember.”
“That night Ramona stayed at my place. Things were fine, no signs of the bear.”
“And yesterday?” Enzo asked. “Rumor has it you got into a pretty heated argument with Mack Kelly, is that right? Something about his son.”
Moira’s mouth twisted in displeasure at the day’s memory. It all felt a bit distant... like a dream.
Eventually you wake up from nightmares, she thought. When your brain can no longer handle the shock of the nightmare it tells your body to wake up. But I'm not waking up.
…
Adermoor Cove Middle School. Nine o’ clock in the morning. First period.
She stood in the hallway, arms folded neatly behind her back, the book The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizibeth George Speare on her mind; they were in the middle of reading the book together. So much else to do. Reports to grab, parent-teacher conference at five, too much to do for so little pay.
Eric Bronson greeted her shyly as he walked into the classroom, black hat pulled over his head so most of his bright red curly locks were hidden underneath. Moira felt bad for the kid: She knew he was self-conscious about his hair and pale, pale skin. I’m glad I’m not a kid anymore, she thought. You may have to work just so you can keep yourself fed and a roof over your head but in return you just stop giving a damn about what people think of you. It baffled her, some of the things kids got stressed about.
Diagonally across from her, Mrs. Keats (Kara was her real name but for some reason Moira could never bring herself to call her that despite Mrs. Keats’s insistence), the Biology teacher cupped a hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn. She met Moira’s glance and shook her head, making her black curls bounce. “I’m going to need at least two cups of coffee before I’m completely awake. I don’t know how you always come in here every week, so chipper, Moira.”
“I love my job.” It was the truth, she did love her job. Even if the pay was crappy.
“We all start out saying that,” said Mrs. Keats. “And then after a couple of years of this we realize we were thinking the job was going to be completely different when we signed up.”
Moira was getting ready to go into her passionate speel about how teachers were the students’ final influence, other than the parents of course, before they went out into the real world; but before she could a commotion had erupted at the other end of the hallway. Students had gathered excitedly around two people. One was punching the other, backing them up into the locker.
“Oh God,” Mrs. Keats muttered just loud enough so Moira could hear her. “It’s too early in the morning for this shit.”
“I got it.” Moira jogged down the hallway, carefully weaving her way in between the spectating students. The closer she got she realized it was Mack Kelly. Of course it was. He was the biggest bully in town. “Hey!” she shouted, clapping her hands. “Break it up!”
Mack looked at her with wide eyes and immediately pointed at Riley Decker who was holding his nose. Blood had begun to run through his fingers. “This fagget tried to molest me. I swear to God.”
Mack was shaking his head. “I didn’t Miss Compton, I was just heading to class...”
“Shut up, liar!” Mack shouted back.
Moira felt her hands clench into fists despite her best effort to remain unbiased. But there was something about Mack’s chubby, babyish face she just wanted to smack, smack until the meanness was gone from him. In the back of her mind she reminded herself it wasn’t really Mack’s fault - not really. She knew his father, Tim Kelly, was an alcoholic amongst other things but the anger was still blooming inside of her.
“Mack, get away from Riley and stand on the other side of the hallway, away from him...”
“He’s not a him, he’s a her!” Mack shouted back.
“Mack, get down to the office right now!” Moira screamed back before she could stop herself.
Stunned, Mack did as he was told, heading for the stairwell. He gave her a vengeful look before disappearing out of sight, but she was too flustered to care.
“Everyone get to class,” she said. When the hallways had most emptied, she went over to Riley. His hands were covered in blood.
“Let me see,” she said gently.
Reluctantly Riley removed his hands from his nose. It didn’t look broken but it was bleeding quite a bit. She did her best to help clean the blood off and decided to usher him down the hallway. The whole time Mack’s words were ringing through her head, making the hairs along the back of her neck bristle with anger: He’s not a him, he’s a her!
Riley had been Michelle when Moira first moved to Adermoor Cove to teach. Over the last three years Riley's parents had spent a baffling amount of money to make Riley...Riley. Moira tried to imagine the transformation from Michelle to Riley, how difficult it must have been for everyone including Riley himself. But more than anything she thought he was brave to become who he was meant to become, and was glad his parents had been supportive and loving despite the pain involved.
Moira informed Nurse Hatchet - Hatchet was the nickname staff within the school affectionately called her when students were out of earshot; her real name was Anne and she was really quite nice - of what happened and told Riley she would see him back in class. When she stepped out of the nurse's office, she sighed and leaned her head back against the wall, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion.
It's going to be a long day, Moira thought.
…
The day dragged on, until finally it was three thirty and it was time for the students to go home. Until the conferences anyway.
Moira returned to her small studio apartment long enough to get the few dishes in the sink done and have a moment's peace. She both dreaded and was looking forward to meeting with Mack Kelly's father who would be at the conference. Mack's mother, Anita, had been the one to pick him up. Colin Salander, the principal had spoken with Moira, furious with the whole situation.
"I don't care how much he struts around with his chest puffed out, if he threatens to have me fired, he needs to get his son under control!" Colin had said.
If nothing else the meeting would be interesting. Moira was glad Colin would be there; the thought of handling Tim Kelly on her own sent barbs of dread through her.
She finished washing the dishes and went about straightening the rest of the studio: making the bed, picking up the dirty clothes off the floor, and taking out the trash. She went back upstairs to grab the things she needed for the conference, then drove back to the school.
Colin was waiting patiently outside her classroom.
"Hey, Colin," Moira said, digging out her keys. "Ready for the fun to start?"
"Ready to get it over with."
Tall and narrow, with black skin, Colin and his wife Suzanne, were originally from Portland. They'd moved here for a change of pace, the "island life" as Colin liked to put it. After two years of living in Adermoor Cove, Colin and Suzanne had the twins. But even with the twins Colin and Suzanne, while well respected and liked, were treated like outsiders.
Just like Moira.
Which is probably why we get along so well, Moira thought. But more than anything he was fair when he needed to be, and harsh when he needed to be. And when someone, like Riley, was being discriminated against he didn't brush it under the rug like everyone else in this town did, but dealt it with it head on. Even when it could get him in trouble. Even when it could cost him his job.
She pulled up a chair for Colin and they began talking. Small talk mostly: How are Suzanne and the twins?
Everybody's good. How about you and Ramona?
They'd been sitting down for five minutes when Tim Kelly came into the classroom. To Moira he looked like your typical white supremacist Trump supporting redneck. She knew she was stereotyping but Tim Kelly would have done the same to her. He wore a plaid polyester vest, most likely to show off his thick, freckled arms, faded denim jeans, and a camouflage cap.
"Good evening, Mr. Kelly," Moira said. She had Jack's report card sitting on the table. "Thank you for coming in."
But Tim wasn't looking at her, he was looking at Colin. "What's going on Colin?"
Colin smiled. "I'm just sitting in on the conference."
Tim looked dubiously between Moira and Colin before sitting in the chair opposite them. "Anita said you suspended m'boy, is that true?" Already his voice was shaking like a volcano getting ready to rupture. Moira fought to keep from glancing at Colin.
"We'll get to that later. Why don't we go over your son's report card first?"Colin said pleasantly.
"No, I want to know why you suspended my boy."
"Okay." Colin's easy salesman smile faded. "Moira?"
"Earlier this morning, before the start of first period, Mack was bullying another student.
"Who?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes it matters."
She could feel her face start to grow hot. Just like his son, Tim Kelly had the effect of getting under her skin quickly. "Riley Hartford. He bloodied his nose."
Tim's dark blue eyes flashed. "He said that little crossdresser tried to molest him."
"I doubt that very much."
"Why, because you two are in the same posse?"
The room went deadly quiet. Moira could sense Colin sitting tensely beside her. Moira swallowed and managed to keep her voice at a normal level, though it trembled with barely suppressed anger. "You're son, Mr. Kelly, is a bully" - and we both know who he gets it from - "who likes to pick on kids who he thinks are weaker and won't stick up for themselves. And on top of that he is disruptive and disrespectful to staff.”
“You have been informed of his behavior multiple times,” Colin said, taking the reins from her. His voice had become more businesslike. More authoritative. “This has not been the first incident in which he’s needed to be reprimanded. And I cannot have him, no matter what the reason is, assault another student. If there is not some improvement in his behavior, if there is one more incident where he is sent to my office for putting his hands on another student within my school, he can no longer come here to get his education.”
At this point Tim Kelly’s face turned beet red. He looked like he might fly across the table at Moira and strangle her to death. He glared at Moira and then turned his gaze on Colin. “Are you kidding me? Are you seriously going to stand up for this dyke?” He shot up from his chair and jabbed a finger at Moira. “I’m taking my son out of here. The last thing I need is you infecting him with AIDs.”
And then he turned and stormed out of the room.
“Well,”Colin said, looking over at Moira, “that’s over with.” His eyes narrowed in concern.
She looked away so he wouldn’t see how close she was to bursting into tears. Not by a long shot.
- 16
- 2
- 1
- 4
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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