Page 87 of Atticus
“No thanks needed. Least I can do,” Trey replies. “I’m gonna miss you both, you know. Seeing your faces around here. It was refreshing.”
“Me too,” Bryant agrees, though somewhat gruffly, as though he’s slightly embarrassed by the admission. “Lucy’s got a lot of passion, and I haven’t always agreed with her, but you both brought a semblance of class this place lacks.”
“It means a lot to hear you say that, Cornelius.”
“Call me Corey,” Bryant replies. “Might as well now, since we’re probably not coworkers any more.”
Several children with their families come in and peruse Bryant’s history books, and before long, the little payment kiosk resting on his desk collects money for his books with swipes from credit chips in watches, phones, and other accessories. Armed with their new books, they chat amiably with him about grades, assignments, and upcoming projects.
Lucy opens the door tentatively. “Can I come in?”
I all but surge forward. “Lucy.” I throw my arms around her and embrace her tightly. “Are you all right? Tell me what happened.”
“Carlisle and I came to an understanding,” she says. “I’ll tell you everything later. But it’s all going to be okay now. I’ve come to take you to my room. We’ll get my things, take some time to say goodbye to the kids as we can, and head home.”
“So he’s yours? She’s not going to fight you on that?” Trey asks in astonishment. “How’d you manage that?”
Lucy is tired. Her eyes are drooped, the normal, healthy glow of her face now ashen. All of this has clearly taken a toll on her, but she’s doing her best to remain strong and in control. “I had a few things up my sleeve, but Atticus won’t be destroyed. That’s what matters. He’s free.”
“Hear that?” Trey grins at me. “You’re a free droid.”
Free. It’s such a foreign word to me. I certainly know relief as I sense it now, the acknowledgement that I am no longer in danger, the lack of worry that I won’t have to defend myself in any way, something I’d hoped to always avoid especially after all my talks with students about avoiding the fist and using words as weapons.
But to be truly free...I consider what that could mean.
Lucy seems to read my expression and takes my hand. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I say after a moment, gazing at her, choosing to remain ignorant of any odd looks we may be collecting from students and their parents. “I’m more than ready.”
We walk together, Trey leading us protectively, down the corridors with our fingers woven together. I observe the reactions of parents as they see us together. Some barely notice us at all, too enveloped with the chatter of their kids. A few are startled. Some are plainly disgusted, faces twisted into deep frowns. Others are merely curious, staring.
It’s the students who are more accepting, who wave and say hello, unbothered by our innocent show of love and solidarity. It’s such a simple gesture, holding hands. And yet now, as we part crowds of families enjoying themselves and the creations their children have made for a good cause, I recognize just how powerful this moment is for Lucy and me.
There are no more secrets for us anymore. Her taking control in the office must have changed everything. She walks with such purpose, chin lifted, fierce and unapologetic as she’s seen here with me. I, in turn, have never felt more pride in her than this moment. That I am registered to such an amazing, intelligent, and capable woman.
When we reach her classroom, I gather the classic books on her counter, removing one of her holobins from underneath the cabinet to pack them away. She similarly rustles through the contents of her desk and removes many of her decorations.
“You can’t leave!”
We both turn and come face-to-face with Lucy’s ninth grade World History class and a few eighth graders too. Their eyes are wide, expressions perplexed and upset. Jack and Hoseok are alone. Pearl brought their parents. Vanessa has her older sister with her, and the adults are all similarly peering at us like we’re a pair of curiosities displayed behind glass.
“You can’t,” Jack insists, clearly upset by the way he clutches his hands. “Please don’t go.”
“I wish I didn’t have to,” Lucy replies, coming to stand with me. Her voice is calmer than her vitals portray. When she wraps her arm around my waist, I slip mine around her shoulder. “But it’s been made very plain that we aren’t welcome here.”
Pearl’s father steps forward and offers his hand to Lucy and me. “Adam Krasinski. All Pearl has talked about this semester is how much she loves your class, your teaching style. And honestly”—he shifts his dark eyes to me—“this business about you, the android, and the photos is absolutely ridiculous. I apologize for the way people in this city have treated you. If there’s anything I can do...”
The mayor of St. Morgan is offering us aid. Lucy is so overwhelmed by not only his words, but the agreements voiced by other parents and caretakers.
“Vanessa struggled with her grades last year,” Vanessa’s older sister says. “Now she’s flourishing. Best grades we’ve seen all year, and she’s actually enjoying class.”
“My son is reading more than he’s ever read before. I haven’t seen him touch a video game all week.”
“You’ve inspired me so much,” Hoseok says. “I told my parents I want to be a teacher. They are very proud of me.”
Tears glisten in Lucy’s eyes, and she brushes them away. “Thank you all so much.”
“You’re the mayor,” Jack says, his voice cracking just a little as he addresses Pearl’s father. “Can’t you make them keep her here? Stop them from firing her?”
