My small victory against the guy who imprisoned Roland was a hollow victory. I was glad Roland made it out of Dream Land, believed most ardently that he did in fact make it, but I wish I could have followed him before returning to my suck-ish reality. Something about the chase, the temporary truce I had achieved with my single-minded captor, made me feel like I had finally accomplished something positive in either of my worlds for a change. Once I was fully awake and realized where I had to be in an hour I felt my lifted spirits fall back to earth once again.
I hated school; despised it beyond all imagining. The only thing I still liked was art class, and since it was the only class I shared with the Terrible Twosome, the joy of learning to sketch and paint and create shadows and light on paper was lessened by the fact that the girls who ruined my life still sat across from me. But the pranks and the comments had stopped, replaced by the eerie silence and hushed whispers that fell whenever I entered the room. I had easily gotten used to being the school oddity, but I had to admit it was a lonely affair. I wanted someone to talk to. I missed Peri badly, would have gladly suffered Tonya's company for one bus ride, but I would never admit that to anyone. I existed, getting each day over with as quickly and with as little effort as possible.
Just before Christmas, somebody unexpected made his grand return. As I walked into the main foyer I noticed him standing there, glaring at me. My heart stuck in my throat; Mr. Daniels was back. Feeling suddenly guilty for no reason at all, I tried to maneuver myself into a group of people. Of course this didn't work, because just as soon as I got near anyone they made a hasty retreat, leaving me singled out as I walked in the door. Mr. Daniels walked toward me, this time smirking smugly, as if he knew something I didn't. He stopped me by raising his hand in a "halt" sort of motion. "Miss Parker, could you go to guidance before you head to class? We will inform your homeroom teacher of your arrival." Thoroughly cornered, I turned right to head to guidance instead of heading straight to go to my locker. I figured he was going to try to bust me for the outburst in Ms. Martin's office, and I knew Ms. Martin would probably be happy to elaborate on my unacceptable behavior that day. That's it, I'm getting suspended, I thought. I sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room, marking the moments until I faced the firing squad. I could have called my mother to get her to back me up. I even seriously contemplated doing so. In hindsight I was so glad I didn't.
When the secretary motioned for me to go in I was terrified. Nothing good could possibly come out of this meeting. I figured I was getting ready to spend the rest of my junior year either lounging at home or trying to prove myself in a juvenile detention facility. Neither of those things were going to happen, but maybe it would have been better if they had.
Mr. Daniels seemed to be very happy for a man who spent the last month out of a job. "Miss Parker." He smiled, gesturing to the empty chair. I noticed Dr. Tonsch had made a return visit; he was leaning against Ms. Martin's desk as I walked in. He had that blasted file in his hand. Ms. Martin was sitting at her desk, looking uncomfortable. I didn't know if she looked that way because of me, or because of the two men who thought she was incapable of doing her job. Either way I figured we were both in for it.
"Welcome back, Mr. Daniels." I replied snidely. If I was going to be falsely accused and shipped off to a detention facility I was going to earn it. In turn, Mr. Daniels ignored my sarcasm and pretended I was in earnest.
"Why, thank you for saying so Miss Parker." He said a little too warmly. "I hear we had a couple of issues with our first guidance session. I'm here to see that this session goes a little better."
"I'm sure you are." I answered. "So, how long before we head out to juvie?" I wasn't going to trust this guy for a second.
Mr. Daniels chuckled. "No need for that. We are here for you. We want to make sure you are well taken care of. Now, let's see," Mr. Daniels grabbed a similar folder to Dr. Tonsch's and began to flip through the pages, "I guess we should start from the beginning. Dr. Tonsch and Ms. Martin have done some extensive research on your behalf. And the investigation into the alleged 'harassment' yielded some disturbing results the school board felt would best be handled if I were returned to my position. The people who investigated the 'incident' discovered some prior abuse claims submitted by your grandparents when you were eight years of age. In this report, they alleged that your mother, the woman who sat by your side for all of those interviews talking about your otherwise stellar home life, had actually broken your arm in a fit of rage. However, the report wasn't made until two months after the incident occurred and your mother had abandoned you and your little sister. Are these claims true?"
I looked at Mr. Daniels and over at Dr. Tonsch. They already knew the answer; why lie to them? "Yes, it's true." I answered, watching Ms. Martin look anywhere else except at my face. "So?"
"Well, if this is true it does present some possible reasons for your reaction to the incident that occurred in October and in August. Perhaps you were looking for someone to blame for your accidental fall, and you blamed the two people you singled out as possible troublemakers, rather than face the wrath of a mother who had already proven herself rather abusive. Which in turn caused the girls you accused to react in the way they chose to react. So, as far as I can see, you were mutually responsible for what happened in this school for the past couple of months. So, in light of the new evidence, the school board has decided to drop all investigations and consider the matter as closed."
"Wait just a fuc..." I started to yell, but he stopped me.
"Miss Parker, we don't want to say anything that would go on public record, do we?" I knew he was enjoying this. He knew the truth, but this new information allowed him to force me into silence. "But we are still very concerned about your well-being. After all, lying about another student causing you physical pain is a serious matter that suggests a troubling home life. We want to make sure whatever you lack in support from your family you receive from the caring people here at Ross Alexander Memorial High School. Dr. Tonsch, what is your recommendation?"
Doctor Tonsch, who was made all too familiar with my "troubling" behavior, took out his notepad and started making notations. The incident had been caught on tape, Mr. Daniels admitted to seeing it himself. And here we were, blaming me for his brat daughter and her equally bratty cohorts. I felt like a rabbit caught in a trap. I only had Ms. Martin to help me, and she either didn't want to help me or was forced to keep her mouth shut as this official bit of tossing me under the bus took place. "I suggest we have weekly counseling sessions with Ms. Martin and myself, effective immediately." I frantically tried to get Ms. Martin to acknowledge just how wrong this was, but she continued to look down at her file, feigning interest. "After a month or so we should be able to limit the sessions to your guidance counselor and Miss Parker, should she decide to show any signs of improvement in her behavior. But I need to see improvement; otherwise I'll remain through the end of the school year. And I recommend you take Miss Parker out of any classes she might share with Miss Daniels and Miss Langston, so we might avoid any future incidents."
Now I was really panicking. "You can't take me out of art! It's the only reason I even come to this stupid school anymore! Can't you move them instead?"
Mr. Parker now had the power of the school board on his side. Of course my protests were futile. "Now Medora. It wouldn't be right for us to punish two innocent students just so you can stay in art class, now would it?" Tears were forming inside my eyelids. Fight it, fight it, I told myself. "I see there's an opening in our life skills class, which happens at the same time as your art class. You can finish out this semester in basic life skills class and take an amended exam including only the information you have learned. And when the semesters change over in January we'll choose your classes so they don't interlap."
"This is total bullshit!" I didn't mean for it to come out, but it did. And it was enough.
"Miss Parker, you're very close to being suspended right now." Mr. Daniels warned me. "One more outburst like that and I'm going to suspend you. And the school board is going to be forced to consider whether we involve the Department of Social Services in this matter. The matter is dropped for Miss Daniels and Miss Langston. They have assured me they want their lives to return to normal, before you started making your false allegations. They will not bother you, if you do not bother them. Is that understood?"
I resigned myself to my fate. Jennifer and Sasha won; I lost. I was a vindictive liar. They were falsely accused angels. Ms. Martin was gripping the sides of her desk. I could tell she was biting her tongue to the point where she tasted blood, but she didn't dare speak up, and I wouldn't have wanted her to. One woman already almost lost her job on my account. I didn't want that to happen again, just because these guys were total assholes. Also, I didn't want my family dragged through the mud, every secret of our past exposed to make my mother look like an abusive single mother who dumped us off on a doorstep. She wasn't much, but I couldn't do that to her. I nodded, afraid to speak, lest the dam break and the tears start pouring.
Mr. Daniels was quite pleased with himself. So was Dr. Tonsch, as this move helped the district avoid a possible lawsuit. As I walked out the door, Mr. Daniels handed me an amended schedule giving me the room number to the life skills class, and the time of my therapy sessions. "Your new class move is effective today. Mr. Jones has already been notified you'll be coming. Have a pleasant day, Miss Parker."
Dr. Tonsch followed this up with a hearty, "We'll see you on Monday, Medora!" I felt sick. I didn't want to go to class. I didn't want to have anything else to do with this damn school. For six months I had been putting up with their nonsense and this is what it got me. Taken away from the last thing that made this place tolerable. I finally lost it. I ran for the nearest bathroom and cried until there weren't tears left. I was so happy the next class didn't start for another half hour. I sat in the stall and thought about the horrible way my life here in Marshdale had turned out thus far.
The rest of my day was the regular crapfest it always was, except when I'd happily walk to art class, I was now turning away from the arts wing and heading toward the home economics and typing classes. Life skills class was right in the middle of the classroom full of computers and the classroom full of pots and pans. I took in a deep breath, hoped for the best and walked in.
It was a total crock of a class. A lot of stoneheads were in the class, supposedly because it was an easy grade. And I was inclined to believe it. In my introductory class, we learned about proper grooming techniques. Mr. Jones, one of the football coaches, wound up being just as bad as my old art teacher. He sat and glossed over an order form for new uniforms as a tired VHS tape from the 80's played in the very outdated VCR. In the movie a young girl named Tiffany, with hair high enough to get caught in a ceiling fan and bright blue eye shadow bright enough to warn passing ships of precarious rocks, was telling her boyfriend Bobby how he shouldn't leave track practice without taking a hot shower first, because when he left practice un-showered the whole school knew it. This was followed by illustrations of an unwashed Bobby being followed by a long stream of green vapors, indicating he reeked. It only took three minutes for me to get bored. I looked around in the dark and noticed all of the other guys in class either sleeping or doodling in their notebooks. This class was a complete waste of time and every single person in here, including the teacher, knew it.
I noticed a girl sitting in the back of the classroom. Her hair was covering her face, ends resting in a heap on the desk. I had seen her before on my first day, almost knocked her down in fact. She was looking down at something, but there was nothing there except her hair to look at. The girl looked as depressed as I felt. It was the first intriguing thing I found in this mind-numbing nightmare of a class. As if feeling me staring at her, the girl looked up, met my gaze in the dark and immediately looked down again. I looked at what she was wearing. It was a long denim skirt that was very outdated and came down to her ankles, complemented by the heaviest baggy sweater I had ever seen. She looked positively miserable. For the first time all day I felt sorry for someone other than myself, and it was sort of a relief. Somebody out there appeared to have it as badly as I did. I decided to do a little research and find out who this miserable girl was. I mean, hell, what else was I going to do?
