Page 118 of The Rest is History

I think I might have a heart attack.

“The issue under discussion today came to our attention shortly after the complaint against Mr. Cameron reached the school district’s office. To Mr. Buddy Carter, we are thankful for exposing the moral indiscretions committed by Mr. Asher Cameron. We do not – we vehemently do not – condone such behavior, and our reasoning is that it is not morally acceptable to be in a relationship with more than one partner. Our official stance is that we do not support polyamory and we believe such behavior is an act of rebellion against God and his instructions regarding the institution of family and marriage.”

Susan clicks away on her laptop, moving through the slides and displaying Genevieve’s despicable words on the TV screen as they spew out of her mouth.

“However, while we as Moms in Action do not subscribe to or support such behaviors, we understand that we live in a country that also prides itself in freedom. This means that, in and of itself, we do not judge Mr. Cameron’s moral choices, nor do we wish to prescribe how he lives his life. Our one and only concern in this matter is the impact Mr. Cameron’s choice may have on the children whose lives he influences every day.”

She stops for a breath and a sip of water, and looks me dead in the eye, as if she’s going to single-handedly destroy my life, and it will be her greatest pleasure to do so.

“In regard to Mr. Cameron’s influence over the students of Linksfield High School, I would also like to bring to the attention of those present, the current situation taking place on the lawns outside. Mr. Cameron’s influence runs so deep that we have sixty students currently in a silent protest in support of his lifestyle. If it had been any other teacher, would the students have taken such a stance?”

She pauses, letting it all sink in. Deliah is nodding and Gerald is picking at his cuticles.

“Mr. Cameron’s influence over the children has reached dangerous levels. I would go so far as to say that we’re dealing with a Pied Piper situation here. Mr. Cameron will lead these children straight into a life of debauchery and sin and they will follow him blindly. We can’t let it go on. We need to put a stop to it. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I’d like to pose a question. How far is too far? This country has already made liberal allowances for—”

She pauses.

—“For alternate lifestyles. And we do so gladly because we believe in liberty. But we have to ask ourselves: when will we stop moving the goalpost when it comes to morality? We already allow, support and celebrate homosexual relationships and marriages. We accept and understand gender dysphoria as very real for those going through it. We accept and understand these alternate lifestyles, but there must come a time when we decide where the line in the sand is. If we continue to allow people to bend and reshape the fabric of important societal elements, such as exclusive romantic relationships, what’s next? Child marriages? Familial marriages?” She pauses and ends with an impassioned, “Thank you.”

“Alright,” Ferdi says. “Let’s pause it there. Let’s take a break and we’ll reconvene in twenty minutes.”

We disperse. Principal Watson is too stressed to talk and, frankly, I don’t feel like talking to anyone. I’ve avoided Abdul’s texts asking to let him know when I have a break so he can come over to talk. Instead, I text Reece and Sawyer while I smoke a cigarette at the back of the building.

They tell me they’re at work but will try to leave early to meet me at home. I tell them not to worry because I probably need the alone time. The reality that I may lose the job I love so much settles deeper and deeper in my stomach, and along with it, such a deep fucking rage that I’m here right now because of Buddy Carter’s big fucking mouth.

I finish my cigarette, tossing the butt into the trash can. Then, I walk over to Principal Watson, who has returned from his office.

“Principal Watson,” I say, when he tries to walk past me.

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Look, Cameron. I’m really sorry for all of this.” He hardly makes eye contact.

“You’re just doing your job.”

He sighs. “It’s not right, Cameron, and I’ll give that recommendation when the time comes. I’m going to ask for you to stay, but that Genevieve Flock? She’s got a track record for getting what she wants.”

“I still need to give my statement. Things can still go in my favor.”

“Yeah. I hope so. Hate this shit.”

“I called you over to ask about the kids.”

“Yeah. We had to call the parents. Cops came. They’ve been escorted out. Parents are picking them up now.”

“I’m sorry for all the trouble, sir,” I say, genuinely regretful for the situation with the children.

“Yeah, Cameron. I don’t know what’s worse. Choosing to have, not just one lover, but two, or having an entire institution coming out here and saying you can’t.”

“I’m worried about Sam,” I say, ignoring his statement.

“Yeah. Me too. That boy belongs in the NFL. I’m not gonna just let it go if the school board gives us trouble.”

Susan pokes her head around the corner. “Time, gentlemen. Let’s go back inside.”

Inside, I take my seat, getting ready to give my statement. I’m not afraid. I didn’t survive Buddy Carter just to come before a school district board and cower.

Ferdi reconvenes and I’m given the floor.

“Stating for the record: I’m Coach Asher Cameron, and I’m currently Linksfield High School’s Physical Education teacher and football coach. I’ve been at Linksfield High School for four years and, under my leadership, we have retained the title of three-time championship holders. Today I’ll address the concerns raised by the school district and certain members of the community.”

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