Page 19 of Defined and Defiled
“Mr. Diction! You are awfully late.” Marge looks positively affronted. I look behind me, but nobody is there. Marge clucks her tongue and sends Richard an ice cold glare I've only seen her reserve for parents trying to pick up their kids early without the proper identification.
“Marge! I was trapped in this body in the basement!” Richard protests.
Marge huffs and unlocks her filing cabinet.
“That is no excuse Richard, you were missing for years. You never even picked up your last check. If you were really dedicated to your job you would have found a way to put in your notice at least.” She searches her drawer for a minute before pulling out a dusty envelope.
“Here. Anything else?”
I take the envelope from her, "Richard Diction?" I lift my eyebrow at Richard, before my brain catches up to what Marge said.
“Yes, of course, there's more. You knew Richard when he taught here. Do you know who cursed him or why?”
Marge waves my questions away with her hand.
“Someone was always getting cursed back then, love, I can't keep up with each one.”
“But you're the one who sent me to the basement, did you suspect he would be there? Do you know anything that could help us?”
Marge just purses her lips.
“If you can help us, I'll ask Twyla to make those molasses cookies you love.”
Marge claps her hands together.
“A bribe! Attagirl, I've taught you well.” There is no denying the twinkle in her eye. The only thing Marge loves more than sweet and a steady paycheck is mischief. “Hold on.”
Marge walks through the door to Richard's office and gestures for us to follow.
I hang back for a moment.
“Should we be doing this?”
“Bailey is having a meeting with the superintendent so I'm sure he won't mind us coming in, and if he does, what's he going to do, fire me?”
Marge’s laugh is quick and loud before dissolving into a cough.She pokes her head into Bailey's filing cabinet. It's unsettling to see her ass sticking out of the metal while the rest of her disappears.
“Ah! Here it is, I'll need some of your strength dearie.”
Marge has only asked me to do this a few times since I've joined this school but it's awful every time. I lay my hand on her back and feel cold as she takes some of my energy so she can carry out whatever it is she found.
The second she pops back up, I remove my hand and wrap my sweater tightly around myself. She shoves a yearbook into my arms.
“This is from Mr. Diction's last year.” She gives Richard a pointed glare, “Before he abandoned us.”
“I was trapped, Marge!” He argues.
Marge rolls her eyes, “I swear, you young bucks never want to work.”
“Thank you, Marge, and I'll talk to Twyla about getting you those cookies.”
“Please do.”
Before Richard and I can leave, Marge grabs my arm, and I feel my skin grow cold.
“Be careful, Shirley. Richard wasn't the only teacher to abandon his post that year. I'd never want anything to happen to you.”
“Thank you, Marge.”
