The air in the large office was cold with the air conditioning turned on high. Wesley pulled his cardigan on tighter and waited for the principal to finish reading the investigations report on the harassment that Wesley had been suffering. The principal was a potbellied, balding man whose remaining hair had long ago turned completely white. He was fiddling with the long sleeve of his tweed suit while catching up on the details of all the incidents - the last of which had been almost two weeks ago.
Wesley waited patiently for his boss to finish and was just glad that the pranks and teasing whispers had come to a stop. The rumors of his alleged homosexuality had taken the school by storm, but they had quickly become old news like the crocs that Wesley still considered wearing from time to time.
“No incidents since last Tuesday?” Principal Edward Warner finally spoke up.
Wesley cleared his throat and answered, “No. None since then.”
“And the frequency before then was quite high…” He muttered to himself more than he engaged Wesley in the conversation.
Wesley was not sure if he was meant to respond, so he just kept quiet in his seat. Principal Warner had been the Vice Principal during Wesley’s time at Wildwood and had specialized in the proper disciplining of the students through a strict enforcement of the rules and a glare that could make you wet your pants even if you had just come from the restroom. His demeanor has softened since then, and the extra weight he had put on took away any intimidating factors he had left; however, Wesley had never quite outgrown the emotional trauma he received from the man in his younger days.
“High frequency before then?” Edward repeated his question.
“Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes. It was almost a prank per day or more, but nothing since last Tuesday.”
The principal did not remove his eyes from the report until he had finished going through it thoroughly at least twice. “This is very serious, very serious. We can’t have our school be blasted across the news for homophobia right after having our second Pride Parade.” He sighed.
Wesley quietly muttered a “yeah” because he was again unsure if he should say anything.
“Bolt tells me that he’s been unable to find a culprit to take ownership of the pranks.”
Wesley hated talking to Edward because he would never know when it was appropriate to speak. “Yeah, Vice Principal Whitman said he caught a couple kids whispering rumors about who had done it, but he couldn’t get anything else out of them.”
Edward sighed again. “I’ve already spent too much of our overtime budget trying to figure out who did these things.” He looked up at Wesley, who gave off an expression that displayed exactly how unsure he was of what to do or say at that moment. “I’m going to stop investing so many of our resources on trying to find the kids responsible.”
“Oh.”
Edward continued before Wesley could get a chance to object or say anything at all. “The incidents have stopped, and I think most of them have been forgotten by the majority of the student body. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think it’s best for everyone involved if we move on.”
Wesley opened his mouth to ask whether that would send the best message to the students, but he could not find the words to express his thoughts.
“It seems that that phase has passed, anyways. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about anyone giving you grief over your life choices.” He smiled kindly at the quiet English teacher. “In fact, I think it’s great that you serve as a source of inspiration for some of them.”
Wesley thought about telling Edward that he was not gay but decided it was just easier to say okay and leave the uncomfortable office as soon as possible. “Alright. Well then is that it?”
Edward nodded. “I just wanted you to hear it from me, so you wouldn’t take it personally. I’d love to find the kids responsible, but it’s just not practical anymore for the budget or for the staff that have other duties to focus on.”
“I understand.”
Wesley was about to get up, but his boss continued to speak.
“I hope you don’t think this has to do with any sort of agenda against you. Trust me, I’m just as livid as you are about the whole thing. I mean, defacing a teacher’s car? And on school grounds in the middle of the school day, too!” His pale skin turned pink as the anger washed over him, but it quickly subsided as the passion was quelled.
“It’s okay, really. I understand.” Wesley was more apologetic than any reason he had to be.
“You do?”
“Yes. There’s more important things for us to be focusing on than this.”
“I agree with you. That’s my boy. I knew we taught you well when you were here.” The principal chuckled with a much lighter air. “Well then that’s that.”
“Yep.” Wesley quickly got up and left the office before he could be roped into another speech.
Outside, Desiree smiled at him as if she felt sorry for him knowing exactly what the meeting had been about. Wesley waved bye to her and headed directly to O-4-7 to gather his stuff. On the way he ran into a couple other teachers who had been talking in the hallway. When they saw him, they asked about the meeting and told him that they were sad at how it all went down. Apparently, the entire school’s faculty staff had known what this meeting was about. Wesley quickly thanked them for the support and retrieved his things before anyone else could bug him with unnecessary condolences.
From the school, he headed to the girls’ apartment because Hayley had called him wanting to talk about her latest visit to Sergeant Donohue’s office. When he arrived at the third story apartment, Hayley let him in and lead him into her room. There were clothes strewn around everywhere, and posters of 50’s Pop Art hung on the walls next to nearly a hundred photographs of Hayley and her friends that she had printed on the special paper herself.
There were more than a few with Wesley in them, and when he caught sight of a childhood picture of him in a surgeon’s Halloween costume, he couldn’t help but reminisce. “Remember this? That was the year you ate so much food doctors thought you developed diabetes and would have ended up in a coma if you had eaten just one more piece.”
Hayley gave him a look of slight yet loving annoyance. “That’s such a lie! My mom made up that story to scare us from eating so much candy. It was only a small stomach ache.”
Wesley laughed knowing that she was telling the truth but still half believing Mrs. Patel’s version of events. “Whatever you say.”
Hayley threw a small pillow at him and stuck out her tongue. “You’re a jerk.”
Wesley laughed again. “You’re the only one that says so.”
“That’s because I’m the only one that knows you well enough!”
Wesley’s trifecta of laughs was fulfilled with his last comment. “Or maybe you’re the only one that’s completely delusional.” He pushed her shoulder softly and sat down on the bed beside her. “So what did you want to talk about?”
Hayley inhaled and released a long sigh. “I went to see the private investigator, and she gave me this.” She leaned over to the dresser and grabbed the folder the sergeant had given her.
Wesley shuffled through the contents of the folder and quickly gathered all the information that stuck out to him as important. “So your mom’s dead…” he frowned.
“Don’t say that! My mom’s alive!” She received a quizzical look from her friend so she explained, “My biological mom is dead…” Lowering her eyes, she said, “It’s weird to hear anyone say that my mom is dead. She’s not. She’s still there in Arizona with my dad and little brother…”
“Yeah sorry. It’s just hard to say which one you’re talking about.”
“Yeah I know what you mean.”
“But your dad - I mean, your biological dad. He’s still alive.” He scratched his chin. “Well I guess both your dads are still alive,” he added laughing at his own corny joke.
Hayley shook her head but smiled.
“Are you thinking of going to meet him?”
Hayley sighed. “I don’t know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. What do you think?”
Wesley considered her question, and although he had wanted to tell her to go meet the man, he thought about what would make Hayley the happiest. “Let me ask you a question. What would make you feel worse - never knowing what type of man he is or finding out who he really is, even if what you find might not be the best?”
She pondered his words and reflected on the fact that he had voiced the exact concerns that had been running through her mind. “I think not knowing would eat me alive, especially since I know who he is and that he’s so close.”
Wesley scanned the papers again. “Yeah, Jacques Etienne. Le French man wiz ze French akzent.”
Hayley pushed him and laughed. “Shutup, that’s not how he sounds?”
“Yeah? How would you know.” He got up and started walking around in an odd manner that somewhat resembled a one-legged chicken while sporting his horrible French accent. “I am Jacques Etienne, and I left my child at the ‘ospital. Zat is why she does not know I zound like zis.”
Hayley fell over laughing so hard at his ridiculous imitation. “Stop it. No that’s not what he’s like!”
Wesley switched his stance to a more frumpy and bent over one. “Ma’be zis iz ze way zat it goez.”
Hayley was writhing with laughter on her bed trying to regain composure. “No, no. Stop.”
“Ztop? Zai zannot zoo zat!” He twisted his imaginary mustache. “Zah zah zah zah zah!”
Hayley had regained some control over her diaphragm, so she pulled Wesley back onto the couch. “Stop! You’re gonna make me pee myself!”
“Oh gross! Fine!”
The out of breath girl wiped a happy tear from her eyes and brought the conversation back to its more serious nature. “So you think I should go meet him don’t you?”
Wesley had wanted to say yes, but again he wanted Hayley to make up her own mind. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“Yes it does! Just tell me!”
He assented, “Fine, yeah. If I was in your shoes, I’d go meet him. I’d want to know everything I could about who I am.” He backtracked realizing that he had implied Hayley’s adoptive parents did not let her fully realize who she was. “Not that you don’t know who you are, but this would just be another piece to the puzzle of life. It would kill me knowing that I never made an effort to at least try to get to know one of the people that brought me into this world.”
Hayley sighed. She had expected him to say something similar, but she had not expected to agree with him so much. “You’re right. I need to know. I’ll give Sergeant Donohue as call and let her know to set up a meeting.”
“Good,” Wesley smiled and hugged her. “Now do you ever plan on telling anyone else about this whole thing?”
Hayley was quiet for a second. “I’ll tell everyone after the meeting.” That way I can pretend it never happened if it goes badly.
“Ahhhhh!” A shrill scream erupted from the common area shocking both of them.
“What was that?” Wesley asked.
“It sounded like Cas.” Hayley inched towards her door, but Wesley pulled her back.
“Hold on, let me go check.” He quickly peeked out the door and then slowly proceeded towards the kitchen. Hayley shook her head and walked passed him to see what the commotion had been.
Cassidy was clutching a letter and jumping for joy while spinning in circles. She stopped abruptly when Hayley came into her view. “Oh, sorry. I thought I was alone.”
Wesley caught up to them and asked, “What’s going on?”
Cassidy was still bouncing off the walls with excitement when she replied. “They liked it! And they wanna see more! Oh my god, I can’t believe it!”
“Who liked what? What do they want to see?” Hayley looked to Wesley who was just as lost as she was.
“The Lin Divine Dance company! They want me to audition for a spot that opened up recently!” She ran up and hugged Hayley tightly.
“Oh my god! Congrats!” Both girls bounced and shrieked loudly to Wesley’s consternation.
Once they had pulled apart and calmed down a bit, Wesley congratulated Cassidy on the honor of being considered for such a highly regarded and talented group. “When’s the audition?”
“In a couple weeks.” The reality for the time frame ht her. “I need to start practicing. I need to figure out what routine to do. I need to call them!” She pulled out her phone from her pocket rushed to her room reading the letter over again.
Hayley and Wesley looked at each other and laughed.
* * *
To whom it may concern:
I have been trying to get in contact with Mr. William Frances for well over a week and would greatly appreciate it if you could let him know that I am awaiting a call from him.
Elliot Quentin
--
Mr. Frances
I am writing to you concerning the invoice I sent over. It has been almost two weeks, and I have not heard a response from you. I would appreciate it if you could let me know whether or not you received it.
Thanks!
Elliot
--
Hello Mr. Frances,
This is Elliot Quentin. I’m the designer that worked with you on the “Save the Children From Violence” campaign. If you could give me a call, I would really appreciate it.
EQ
--
Dear Sir or Madam,
I am writing to you in the hopes of getting acquiring some information about a bill payment. I apologize for emailing the publicity email for the Bryce Jenner Foundation, but I have been having some trouble getting a hold of Mr. William Frances. If you would be so kind as to forward this message to him, i would greatly appreciate it!
Thank You,
Elliot Quentin
Graphic Designer
Quentin Graphics
Elliot sat staring at his computer screen hoping to find an email from his latest client. There were nearly a hundred unread messages, but none had come from the public relations officer of the charitable organization. The computer bounced as Elliot slammed his fist down on the table. He grabbed the edges of the screen and shook it as if it were the shoulders of the man he was thinking about. “Damnit! Pay me already!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Meow.”
Elliot looked out with furious eyes towards his perennial arch nemesis. “Not now, Tartar! Not now!”
The tabby at the window looked at the frustrated man for a second before jumping off the ledge and out of sight.
“That’s it,” Elliot thought as he slammed his laptop lid closed harder than he had intended. He grabbed his keys and a newly printed invoice and briskly exited the front door.
Outside, he fumbled with his keys too enraged to have full control over his fine motor functions. By the time he had locked the door and entered his car, his anger had only grown. He rolled down the windows, and blasted the first song that he could find on the radio before backing out much too fast for a residential driveway and driving away while testing his car’s acceleration.
Within ten minutes, he reached downtown and began looking for the tall building of the Bryce Jenner Foundation that he had seen before but never visited. In his blind fury, he had almost run over a couple of kids leaving their school and a helpless old lady in a wheelchair. One more than one occasion, he yelled expletives at drivers who erred even slightly in their driving while he himself ignored as many driving laws as he could get away with.
When he finally found the brass mirrored building, he turned sharply into the entrance and almost ran over the operator of the parking tab booth. Skidding his tires on the pavement, he pulled into an open spot and marched into the lobby of the rich structure with bill in hand. He looked around the large open area and saw a couple people standing next to the couches on the side before noticing the girl seated at the reception desk.
Marching straight up to her, he slammed the paper onto the desk and demanded to see William.
The girl looked startled, but she answered in a haughty tone. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“I’m the-” Elliot stopped himself to lower his voice, but his tone was even more vitriolic. “I’m the designer that worked on the “Saving the Children From Violence” campaign, and I need to speak with the head of the Public Relations Department.” He waited for her to move, but when she didn’t he shouted, “Now!”
The girl kept her composure. “What is this concerning?”
Elliot took a quick breath in and out before shoving the invoice towards her. “This is concerning the bill I sent over to be paid nearly a month ago. I haven’t had a response, and I’ve been calling and emailing for weeks, so I’d like.” He emphasized every phrase. “To talk. To. Mr. Frances. If that’s alright with you.”
The receptionist looked over the bill and stamped it to mark the current date and time. “I’m sorry, but he isn’t in at the moment. I’ll make sure he gets this.”
Elliot twitched his neck as if something sharp had bitten into it. “What?”
The girl hesitated before replying this time. “He’s, um, he’s not in at the moment.”
Elliot’s mouth curled up on both sides, and he began to laugh almost sadistically. The force of the desperate mirth increased until there were tears in his eyes. When he had calmed himself again, he leaned in and read the girl’s name tag. “Okay, Michelle.” He emphasized her name to show just how serious he was. “I expect an answer from Mr. Frances in two days, or I”ll call up your supervisor and complain that you did not forward my message to the appropriate party in a timely fashion.” He gave her a false smile. “Thank you.”
On the way out of the building, Elliot felt bad that he had treated the receptionist so badly, but he convinced himself that it was justified because she worked for the company that was trying to get away without paying him.