Page 96 of For Your Own Good
Yes, it does. Or it did. Doesn’t matter now, since he’s no longer at Belmont. At least that’s one good thing.
“What did she do to get on his bad side?” Zach asks.
“I don’t know exactly. I just remember her raging about him online. And that was after we graduated. Something to do with a reference letter.”
“She asked him for one? I’d never do that.”
“That’s the thing about teachers,” Titus says. “Sometimes, you don’t know you’re on their shit list until it’s too late.”
59
TEDDY FEELS GOODwhen he walks into the school on Monday morning. It’s quiet out front, because the reporters have gotten sick of standing around in the cold, waiting for news that doesn’t come. The DA hasn’t said anything else, nor have the police. No leaks, no rumors. Someone has tightened up their ship.
The only thing new is the sign in front of the school:
SECURITY NOTICE
Video surveillance in use on these premises
The cameras work after all. Finally.
He wonders if the students will change their behavior. If they’ll feel like they have to watch what they say and do. Not a bad thing.
Teddy isn’t the only one thinking about the effect on students. In theteachers’ lounge, Louella is clutching her crystals, moaning about Big Brother.
“Kids shouldn’t have to live like this,” she says, almost spilling her herbal tea. “They should feel safe and loved, and not like someone is watching their every move.”
“It is a shame,” someone else says. “But it’s also reality.”
Indeed.
Teddy makes his coffee and picks up his things, heading down to his classroom. The door is locked, just as he’d left it. The first place he looks, as always, is at the wall.
His Teacher of the Year award is back.
At first glance, he thinks it’s been returned. That someone had snuck into his class and returned it on Friday, before the cameras in the hall were functional. Upon closer examination, he finds a sticker on the edge of the frame.
A new plaque.
Rather than investigate the one that was stolen, the headmaster—or, more likely, Ms.Marsha—had another one made. A shortcut. Teddy hates it when people take shortcuts.
Still, his classroom does feel better now that he has an award plaque on the wall. Like everything is as it should be.
Today is going to be a good day. He thought it would be when he woke up this morning and saw that the sun was already shining. The temperature was above freezing, and the ice had already started to melt. It’s still winter, but the end is near.
And now that class is starting, he gets to continue talking about Dante’s version of hell. It doesn’t get better than that. He doesn’t even feel like picking at his cuticles.
Everything continues to be smooth. No ripples, no trouble, no surprise announcements on the news. A perfectly normal day of teaching.
Until about one o’clock.
He starts to feel a little light-headed. A little woozy. He’s in the middle of fifth period, talking about the circles of hell, and he has to sit down.
“Are you okay, Mr.Crutcher?”
A student says this, and Teddy nods. “I’m fine.”
In the distance, he hears a scream. Or he thinks he does, but it’s hard to tell. All he wants to do is put his head down on the desk and make the spinning stop.
