The Academy (13 page)

Toward the front of the theater, several teachers cheered.

The charter committee?

“We can make Tyler into not only the top-scoring school in the district but in the county, the state, the country!”

More people cheered this time.

Linda was stunned. The purpose of a school was to educate children, and her job was to do her utmost to teach every student in her classroom, be he good, bad or indifferent. In fact, she received the most satisfaction from seeing the light go on in the eyes of a student who claimed to hate reading but suddenly discovered the joys of literature through the power of a book that she had assigned. She was shocked to the very core of her being that Jody would even suggest cherry-picking students in order to boost the school’s overall test scores, and she quickly looked around to see who was in agreement with this horrifying idea and who was not. She’d always believed that crowds brought out the worst in people, that a mob mentality could override the better instincts of most individuals, and she thought that even more so now. On their own, many of the teachers cheering the principal’s proposal were good people and caring educators, but together, following a leader, they surrendered any pretense of independent thought and became a frighteningly pliable entity that could be used for any purpose.

Now Jody was talking about punishing parents who took their children out of school for doctors’ appointments, dentists’ appointments or, worst of all, family vacations. “It is their responsibility to schedule these appointments at a time that does not conflict with school hours!” she announced. “From now on, failing to do so shall result in a day’s in-house suspension for the child and a fine of fifty dollars for the parents!”

There were cheers, but not quite as many this time.

“Under no circumstances shall there be any makeup tests or independent study for students whose parents remove them from school.”

“So let it be written, so let it be done,” muttered Paul Mays, the EH teacher, from the row in front of her.

Linda had to smile, though the situation was anything but funny. She’d always hated staff development days. Most of the teachers did. But whereas, in the past, the dopey seminars they’d attended and the useless consultants they’d listened to had all had at their core the best interests of the students, it seemed now that their in-service days were to be spent in strategy sessions that made students and their parents into enemies to be conquered.

Linda hadn’t seen anyone else come in after her, but the last few stragglers must have arrived because Bobbi had left her post and was walking down the theater’s far right aisle and up the steps to the stage. She said something to Jody and then stood respectfully behind the podium.

“Listen up!” the principal announced, placing the microphone back in its stand. “We have something special planned for the rest of the morning. All of the vendors assisting us with fund-raising this year have graciously consented to showcase their goods and services so that you may be aware of what is available. As you know, each classroom has a quota that it is expected to meet, and each instructor may choose the fund-raising options that best suit his or her needs. There will be presentations in the gym. Please feel free to stop by each booth or table, and ask all the questions you want.”

Linda raised her hand, but when the principal looked at her and did not call her name, she blurted out: “Will we need a name tag to get into the gym? Because I seem to have lost mine.”

“She never
got
her name tag!” Bobbi shouted, rushing forward. “She refused to wear it!”

Several teachers chuckled.

Jody held up a hand to silence Bobbi, who was red-faced and furious. “You will still be allowed inside,” she promised. “And I think you will be very favorably impressed.”

“Very funny,” Diane admitted, catching Linda outside the building a few minutes later.

Linda laughed. “I thought so.”

“You’ve made an enemy for life, though.”

“And she wasn’t already?”

“Good point.”

“What is going on with this school?” Suzanne said, meeting up with them. “Am I the only one who thinks all this emphasis on fund-raising is a crock? I mean, aren’t we supposed to be
teachers
?”

“You’re preaching to the converted,” Diane said.

Like a herd of lemmings, the faculty and staff walked en masse through the center of campus to the gymnasium.

“Do you think anyone would notice if I just hid out in my room and corrected papers?” Suzanne asked.

Diane looked around mock-furtively. “Be careful. Bobbi’s not only counting heads—she’s monitoring conversations. Your pay could be docked for a statement such as that.”

“That’s probably not as much of an exaggeration as you intended,” Linda pointed out.

“I thought that even as I said it.”

All of the gym’s doors were open, and when they walked inside, the sight that greeted them looked like a cross between a carnival and a trade show. There were tables and booths, balloons and even a band. Several of the salesmen were trying to compete with one another by using remote microphones, and there was one display under a large white canopy that featured two shimmying women in bikinis.

“What the hell is this?” Diane marveled.

They walked from one exhibit to another, picking up pamphlets and catalogs, samples and bribes. The sheer breadth of options was overwhelming. They could send their students home to sell everything from magazine subscriptions and holiday decorations to resort time-shares and life insurance. There were even prizes offered to those students who sold the most and to the teacher whose classes raised the greatest amount of money. Linda stopped to look at a table piled high with miracle cleaning products. This entire concept did not sit well with her. The kids in her class were students, not salespeople, and they should be concentrating on their schoolwork rather than fund-raising.

“Did you see the portable tent?” Bill Manning, the biology teacher, asked excitedly, passing by. “It fits in a school backpack!”

“I think I’m done here,” Linda said, hefting her plastic Store bag filled with freebies.

“Me, too,” Diane said.

Suzanne had gone back to her classroom, and the two of them walked past a shrill-voiced man conducting a no-stick frying pan demonstration and out the door. Linda looked up into the sky, taking a deep breath, suddenly aware of how claustrophobic it had seemed inside the gym. She turned around and saw teachers flocking around booths, trying various products, hurrying to catch another demonstration. “Shouldn’t students be rewarded for doing well academically rather than for selling . . . crap?” she asked.

“The kid who sells the most magazine subscriptions gets a limo ride,” Diane said. “Did you see that? And whoever sells the most books gets to go to Familyland. During school hours!”

“Ridiculous.”

They started walking back toward the classrooms. The PTA was catering a lunch at eleven thirty, and after that was an afternoon’s worth of speakers, but until then they could catch up with whatever they needed to do.

Diane glanced behind them to make sure no one else was nearby. “You heard about Michelle’s husband, didn’t you?”

“Yes! Oh my God, I couldn’t believe it!”

“Did you hear how he died?”

Linda shook her head.

“Choked on his own vomit.”

“Was he drunk?”

“Oh, no. Food poisoning. He fell asleep in his chair, in front of his computer, with his head leaning back, and asphyxiated when he threw up. It seems that he tried to clear his throat and get it out of there, but he couldn’t do it.” She shook her head. “What a horrible way to go.”

“And Michelle found him?”

“No. Their son did.”

“How old is he?”

“Ten.”

“Wow.” Linda was silent for a moment. “Choking on your own vomit when you’re not drunk. That’s pretty rare, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Are you starting to notice a pattern here?”

Diane frowned. “Pattern? What do you mean?”

“Mary’s getting a divorce. Coleen’s moving because her husband is being transferred to Texas. David got caught with kiddie porn—”

“Which I
still
can’t believe.”

“—and now Michelle’s husband is dead. Dead! Doesn’t it seem to you that all of the bad things are happening to the teachers who opposed the charter?”

“I’ve heard of conspiracy theories, but this takes the cake.”

“I’m serious. Look at it objectively. Our side’s being decimated and Jody’s allies are getting off scot-free.”

Diane stopped walking. “Listen, this is crazy. I’m right with you on all the anticharter stuff, but what are you saying, that Jody’s putting some kind of curse on teachers who oppose her?”

Linda sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I do know. And that’s just not happening.”

“You don’t think things are a little . . . weird this semester?”

Diane smiled. “It would be weird if things
weren’t
weird.”

“Come on. The new pledge of allegiance?” She held up her bag, using it to motion behind them. “All
that
?”

“Yes, things are weird,” Diane admitted. “But they’re
explainable
. They’re not . . . supernatural, or whatever you’re suggesting.”

Linda lowered her bag. “I hope you’re right,” she said, though she was still not convinced. “I hope you’re right.”

Nine

Myla’s mom let her borrow the minivan, and for that, she was grateful. Despite what she told Brad when he teased her, she wasn’t quite as comfortable with most of the other student-council members as she made it seem, and this semester she’d even been feeling a little distant from her friends. It was probably from spending so much time with Brad and Ed, but she’d found herself increasingly irritated with Reba and Cindy’s annoying gossipy chatter, so much so that sometimes she actually dreaded seeing them. Cheryl was all right, but Myla still didn’t want to carpool with her. She wanted to head straight home after the meeting, and she knew her friend would want to stop by Starbucks or Del Taco and hang out awhile.

Myla wasn’t sure why they had to have their meetings at night anyway. Last year’s council had met at lunchtime, and everything seemed to have run smoothly. She suspected that it was because Cheryl’s lunches were consumed with early lobbying for homecoming queen, and because she wanted the chance to cruise around on a school night in the new VW that her absent and guilt-ridden daddy had bought her for a “senior-year present.” Student-council meetings offered perfect cover.

There were only a few cars in the parking lot, and Myla pulled next to an Explorer that she recognized as Reba’s dad’s. She shut off the engine and the headlights, but left the radio on as she sat there and waited for someone else to show up. The campus was dark, and as she looked out the windshield, she thought that maybe she
should
have carpooled with Cheryl. Lights were on in the parking lot, but they were a strange muted orange and offered little illumination. There seemed to be
no
lights on in any of the buildings, and she could see only a dim faint glow from some indistinct light source within the quad.

She sat through one song. Two. A commercial.

According to the clock on the dashboard, it was eight already. The meeting was supposed to be starting. There weren’t enough cars in the parking lot for all the council members to be here. Where was everybody? It occurred to her that some of them might have walked or taken a bike, and some of them may even have parked on Grayson Street on the other side of the campus, which was actually a lot closer to the multipurpose room where they would be holding the meeting than where she was now.

She had to walk all the way across the school grounds to get to the meeting.

Myla took the key out of the ignition, shutting off the radio, causing the lit dashboard to go black. The world was suddenly silent. Getting out of the van, she locked the vehicle’s doors. She wished she’d brought a flashlight. There was one somewhere in the van that her mom kept there for emergencies, but she didn’t know exactly where it was, and she didn’t have time to look for it. She was late already.

Myla stepped over the curb, starting down the walkway that led into the center of campus. She didn’t like the echoing sounds her footsteps made on the cement or the way that indistinct light shining from within the quad ahead of her made the surrounding trees and buildings look unfamiliar and threatening.