Confessions from the Principal's Chair Page 12

  I also had a big towel, jeans, and a tee to change into for the water balloon fight—I mean festival. I put the bag out on the front porch first thing even though Rendi wasn't up yet. I didn't want to take a chance on her wanting to know what was in the pack.

  I dressed in my dark red suit, and I was singing in the kitchen as I took a bowl and cereal from the cabinets. Rendi came wandering in, rubbing her eyes. "It's not even seven. Why are you up?"

  "Just couldn't sleep. I thought I'd get to school early, maybe get a chance to meet some people before class."

  "They'll let you in the building an hour early?" Rendi looked doubtful, but too sleepy to argue.

  "Lots of clubs and things meet before school here," I said. "I'm sure the principal will be there early. She'll let me in. You look tired," I said, "why don't you go back to bed. No need to be up with me."

  She looked at me. "Well, I wanted to see you before you went off to say I hope you have a better day than yesterday." She sort of leaned toward me like she wanted a better look or something. "But then I heard you singing. You sounded pretty happy for a girl about to go to a school she hates."

  I tried to make my face look long and sad. "Oh, you know what they say about singing when it's dark or something to get your courage up."

  Rendi sank into a kitchen chair, and I went on with pouring my cereal. "I stepped out on the porch this morning just to check the weather outside. It's beautiful, as warm as summer."

  "Indian summer's what people call days like this. Oklahoma has lots of them."

  There was something in her voice. "You're glad to be back in Oklahoma, huh?"

  "I guess so, but I wish you felt better about being here." She shrugged.

  "Don't shrug your shoulders at me," I said in my principal's voice, and we both laughed. I would never have admitted it, but it felt good to laugh with Rendi.

  "You have your school supplies?" she asked while I was eating.

  "Took them yesterday," I said. "Remember?"

  "Oh, yeah." She reached out to touch my cheek. "Why don't you change your clothes, honey? You've got some good jeans and cute shirts."

  I shook my head. "No, Rendi. I'll take the other three suits back, but I guess this is sort of a test. If they don't like me because of the way I'm dressed...," I thought for a minute, "Well, kids like that aren't the kinds of kids I want to have as my friends anyway."

  "Bird," she said, "that's deep. I'm proud of you, very proud."

  "Got to go." I knew Rendi was about to slip into one of her, "let's talk about humanity" moods. I could hear it in her voice.

  "Want me to drive you?"

  "No, I want to enjoy the walk on this beautiful Indian summer day." I was out the front door before she had a chance to say anything else. I got my backpack and started toward my last hours in the principal's office.

  When I got to the big sandstone building, it looked different to me somehow. Maybe the sun was hitting it in a different way. I don't know why, but I liked the looks of the building. I decided to walk around it before I went in so that I could see the spot where the water fight would be.

  There was a nice grassy area, and I could just imagine water balloons flying through the air. From behind the school, I could see the gym too. It was a big old building with wide front steps. A girl came up the steps and settled cross-legged on the concrete porch. She took something out of her book bag, and all at once two pigeons came flying down to land beside her. I moved a little closer. I could see then that the girl was tearing off bits of bread to feed the birds, and I could see that the girl was Serenity. I felt sad watching her. I'm telling you the truth, I think I would have known how lonely the girl was just by seeing her with the birds. No one would have had to tell me that Serenity didn't have any people for friends. I knew right then that I'd keep my promise to change that.

  I didn't call to Serenity or watch very long. I went back to the front door, squared my shoulders and got into my principal way of thinking. I got out my key and used it to let myself into the building. I liked having a key to the school, but I supposed they would want it back after my replacement came.

  I had the beads and the band poster up and was on a chair tacking up the love one when I heard Mrs. Simpson at her desk. My door was open, so I knew she had already seen the beads. I couldn't wait to show her the rest of my decorations. "Mrs. Simpson," I called, "could you please come in here for a minute?"

  I loved seeing her push through the beads. "Do you like what I've done with the place?" I asked. She seemed speechless, so I went on. "I'm thinking of getting some big pillows for the floor. You know, get rid of the chairs. Let my guests make themselves comfortable."

  She didn't say anything, just backed out of the beads and closed the door. I didn't hear a peep from her until I walked past her desk on my way to the meeting. "I had the cafeteria send the cinnamon rolls and coffee down to the library," she said. "Everything should be set up by now."

  The library had two glass walls just like the outer office, so I had a clear view of the group that waited for me. I clutched the outline of my speech. Last night I had enjoyed writing it, but now seeing real people who would hear me, I felt really nervous. Maybe I should pretend to get sick suddenly. I had once had a part in a school play where I was an old lady who had a heart attack. I was pretty good with heart attacks, but I decided against it. I'd end up in the hospital and miss the festival.

  There were maybe fifteen people in the room, not a big faculty. Most people were already at tables, eating their cinnamon rolls and drinking coffee. A couple of men were still getting their refreshments when I stepped up to the podium. "That's fine, gentlemen," I said with a smile that wasn't genuine. "Get what you need, but I'll go ahead and start the meeting." I paused for a minute. "Think the thought," I told myself. "Well," I said, "here we are, aren't we? I know I didn't get to meet many of you yesterday, but, of course, there were lots of things to take care of on my first day on the job. I know I look young and everything. That's because I am young." I looked at their faces, many of them frowning. "You know," I said, "I may even be the youngest person in this room." I lifted my hands in a sort of helpless gesture. "The thing is, I think the principal's office is making me older fast." I heard a laugh or two and felt encouraged. I went on, "Just wait, maybe I'll catch up with you. The thing I want to do during my very short term as your principal is to concentrate on a serious problem. I want to fight bullying in the school." A few people clapped.

  I felt better, but then an angry-looking woman near the front said, "What about this ridiculous water balloon thing the Student Council wants to have? Are you really allowing such a mess?"

  "I am," I said, and I think I sounded confident. "I know many of you do not agree with my decision. However, I ask you to remember that my strength is my understanding of young people." I laughed. "In fact, I might be considered one of them." The faces before me did not look friendly. "Let me make you a promise," I said slowly. "I pledge to you that if this water balloon festival does not prove to be a valuable step toward less bullying in this school, I will not be with you tomorrow." I gave them a big nod. "That's right! If the water balloon festival is not a success, I will give up my position."

  "Ms. Miller," someone called from the back of the room, but I held up my hand in a sort of stop gesture. "People," I said, "I would like nothing better than to stay here and get to know you all." I pointed toward the clock. "But look at the time." I stepped away from the podium. "Okay, people, go out there and educate!" I pulled up the bottom of my skirt so I could run, and I ran out of the library.

  No one followed me. I looked through the glass just as I was even with the corner of the library. Mostly the teachers were standing in little groups, talking. Lots of them were shaking their heads. A few, though, didn't seem interested. They were going back for more cinnamon rolls.

  "How'd the meeting go?" Mrs. Simpson said when I came into the office.

  "The cinnamon rolls were a big hit." I hurried through the
outer office. "I don't want to be disturbed until further notice," I said just before I went through my door. Just to make sure, I flipped the lock.

  In Denver, Katie was probably in her mother's SUV on her way to school. I dialed her number. "No party here," she said instead of hello.

  I made a face. I didn't like that Katie was now answering her phone with Ivory's pet expression. "Hello, Katie," I said. I tried to emphasize the "hello" so she would get my point that she had not said hello to me.

  She didn't get the point. "Bird," she said, "what's happening?"

  I couldn't keep the pride out of my voice. "Oh, not much, except that I just held my first faculty meeting."

  "Really? You stood up there and talked to a bunch of teachers like you were a regular principal and stuff."

  "I did."

  "No way! I want to know everything, everything that happened yesterday and everything that happens today."

  "I don't have time right now." The wild thing is that just at that very minute, talking on that phone, an idea just came to me, I mean a huge idea. For sure the best idea I'd ever had. "Katie," I said. "A brilliant scheme just flashed through my mind. If I can pull this thing off, you will know everything that's happened, you and a lot of other people. But right now I need that number."

  "You mean Marcy Willis's number."

  "Yes, you got it for me. Didn't you?"

  "Don't break into a sweat. I got it all right. I asked her for it. At first she wouldn't give it to me, thought the Pack wanted it to torment her or something."

  "But you got it?"

  "Yes, I didn't think she would give it to me if I said you wanted it." There was a little pause. "See, Bird, there's something I kind of forgot to tell you. Since you had moved and everything anyway, Ivory told Mrs. Howard and everyone that you wrote the note. She sort of said you did the whole thing by yourself."

  "What?" I pounded my hand on my desk. "The rest of you let her do that? You all went along with it?"

  "Well, we didn't see how it could hurt. I mean you were gone and stuff."

  I sighed. "Okay, Katie, but did you get the phone number?"

  "Yes, finally I told her it was just for me, that I wanted it so I could call her if I had a problem with algebra."

  "Well, Katie, you could use some help with algebra. Maybe you ought to call Marcy sometime."

  There was silence on Katie's end for a minute. Then she said, "Bird, you know Ivory wouldn't like it if I called Marcy. The Six-Pack has rules about talking to girls like her."

  "Katie," I said, "give me the number."

  "Okay, hold on. I've got it written in my algebra book."

  "Good place for it," I said, then Katie repeated the number, and I wrote it down. "Thanks, Katie. Most of the time you're a real friend, and I'm glad I got a chance to know you."

  She made a surprised sound with her breath. "Bird, don't talk like that. I mean, you sound like we might never talk again. You still think you will come back to Denver, don't you? When you do, we will drop the new girl from the Six-Pack. Anyway, I think Ivory will agree to that."

  "I don't know if we will come back or not, but, Katie, I want to tell you something. I'm pretty sure that once you've been a principal, you can't be in the Six-Pack ever again. It just wouldn't work."

  "I don't understand you anymore, Bird."

  "That's okay," I said. "Lots of other people feel the same way."

  After the phone call, I couldn't think about anything except my idea. I didn't want to start on it, though, until after the balloon fight. I needed something to help me calm down. I picked up my bag and got out the book Ivory had insisted I carry out from the library. I'd send it back, but before I did, I'd read it. It looked interesting. I read for a long time, until Mrs. Simpson buzzed me.

  "I know you said no disturbances, but Coach Pickle is here with popcorn. He is insisting you would want to see him."

  I looked up at the clock. It was almost eleven, time for All My Secrets. "Yes, send him in," I told her.

  "I used the popcorn machine down in the concession stand we have in the gym." He handed me a nice warm bag, set the other bag on my desk, and took two colas from the bag he had across his shoulder. "We'll just power back after a hard morning, and take a little break. Don't worry about spoiling your lunch. Today is spaghetti day in the cafeteria, horrible stuff."

  We really got into the program, and when Secrets was over, we started on Specific Hospital. Coach Pickle filled me in on background. In the first scene, Lorraine was in a hospital bed, near death. She had divorced Carl years earlier and been married to five or six other men, but now she realized she had always loved Carl, who happens to be her doctor. "My life has been empty without you, my love, if only I had realized while I had time left to spend with you," she said. Carl told her that he was going to perform an experimental surgery on her, but that her chances were slim.

  Coach Pickle was sniffing, I handed him a tissue. He's got a soft heart, I thought. Maybe Rendi would like to date him. She had certainly done worse. I was pretty sure Richard, whose picture was still in my bag, didn't have a tender heart. Just then Mrs. Simpson buzzed. "Teachers in the cafeteria are asking for you. Word is that there will be a spaghetti fight today to protest the food."

  "I'll take care of it," I said.

  Of course, Coach Pickle heard Mrs. Simpson's message. "Do you want me to come with you?" he said.

  "No." I patted his shoulder as I walked by. "You stay right here, power back. You deserve a rest. I think I can handle this."

  Just as I walked into the cafeteria, two boys, a table apart, picked up several strings of spaghetti and threw them at each other. "Stop this at once," I shouted. Then I scooted over a kid's plate, held up my skirt, and climbed on a table. I noticed that several of the kids had picked up pieces of spaghetti too, but they put them down when I yelled. "Listen to me," I said, "I understand you do not like what you've been served today."

  "No." Their shouted answer filled the room.

  I looked down and saw for the first time that Kash Edge sat at the table I stood on. Kash looked so hot in a gold-colored tee that I almost forgot why I was standing on a cafeteria table. I forced my mind back to the food. "I'll taste the spaghetti, and let you know what I think." I pointed to Kash. "Young man, would you mind handing up a bite from your plate?"

  He stood up and held out his fork wrapped with spaghetti. I felt a thrill pass through my hand and up my arm when I took the fork. But I made myself concentrate on the food. The room was totally silent as I chewed. I made a face. "Terrible," I said, and the entire student body cheered. The cooks had stepped out of the kitchen, and they stood with their arms folded, staring up at me.

  "Is one of you Doris Davis?" I asked.

  A large, angry-looking woman stepped forward. "That would be me." She glared at me.

  "Mrs. Davis, I understand you are the head of this cafeteria," I said. She nodded, and I went on. "First, let me say that I have never tasted better cinnamon rolls than the ones you bake."

  "Thank you," she said, and she almost smiled at me.

  "Next, let me say your spaghetti... Well, shall we say your spaghetti needs work. I don't want you to be here tomorrow. I want you to spend the day with Judy at City Café. I will arrange for her to give you lessons on making spaghetti. Your staff can serve cold cuts in your absence. What do you think?"

  "Reckon that would be all right with me. Don't think there's shame in needing to learn."

  "Excellent," I said. "I'll call Judy, and by the way, I want you to take Thursday off too. Sort of a thank-you frora the principal's office."

  The kids all cheered again, and I noticed that some of the cooks were clapping too. "Young man," I said to Kash, who was still standing near me, "would you help me down?"

  He put up his hand. I took it, and this time the tingle went through my entire body. "I'll call for you just before last hour," I said softly when I was beside him.

  I went back to my office, closed the door, and read mo
st of the afternoon. At two, I buzzed Mrs. Simpson. "I want to see the Edge boy," I said. "I believe his name is Kash, is that right?"

  "Yes, Kash. He's a very nice boy."

  "I'm sure he is," I said. "Please have him sent down here at once."

  When he came into my office, I could hardly keep from making a whistling sound because he looked so hot. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up so that the top of those beautiful arms showed. I had pulled the chair from the other side of the desk to make it closer to me. "Sit down, please," I said, and I put my hands in my lap. I was afraid if I didn't fasten them together, I would lose control and reach out to touch him.

  "Did you find a note in your bike basket?" I asked.

  "Yes." He looked down at the floor.

  "I imagine you found the note somewhat confusing."

  "I sure did. It said I had an admirer, but it was written on a pad that said from the principal's office."

  "Well, I promise you will understand everything before you leave here, but first I need to talk to you about one of your classmates who is a very troubled girl. Her name is Serenity Blair. You know her, don't you?"

  "Sure," he said, and he looked up at me for a second before dropping his eyes again. "Prairie Dog Town is awful small, Ms. Miller. Everyone knows everyone else."

  "Have you noticed that Serenity is tormented by some of the other kids?"

  "I guess I have."

  "She tells me that a certain group of girls started it, and others follow."