Amateur Hour

Janice Miles stepped out of the green Suburban, and joined her husband, where he stood at the front of the SUV. Liam had sagged against the right front fender, and the engine made ticking noises behind his skinny bottom, while he stared at the house.

They were both silent, for a long moment. It was Janice who spoke first, pulling her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, to reveal her blue eyes, momentarily, as if for a better look.

“Sugar, you did say you’d buy a fixer-upper. I’d say you accomplished that.”

“No… No, no! This is nothing like the photos!” Liam groaned.

Janice didn’t doubt that. No sane Realtor would have offered a photo of this place, as it was, now. It was only superficially like the tidy brick house represented in the brochure. That picture hadn’t shown the rain gutters that had come adrift from their moorings at the bottom edge of the roof. The storm awning over the large front room window hadn’t been askew, either. The bricks were in dire need of pressure washing.

Janice’s lips twitched. She began to laugh.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny,” Liam growled.

“I think it serves you right,” Janice replied, then went off into another giggle. “Who was it, who lectured his sister about buying property, sight unseen?”

“I did,” he admitted. “But her pictures didn’t lie. That place looked like trouble. This,” he gestured toward the house before them, “is beyond misrepresentation.”

“Maybe it’s not so bad, inside.” She was sorry she had laughed. Liam was tired and stressed from the drive up. “I’ll wake Spike, and we’ll have a look.” With a parting peck on his cheek, Janice went to the back door of the Suburban, to rouse their spaniel and unload him.

Spike yawned and stretched, the stump of his tail wagging in excitement at the prospect of being freed from his carrier.

“You phony,” Janice said. “You slept the whole way.”

The dog lapped frantically at her face and arms, as she lifted him out and set him down in his new front yard. Janice took a moment, to scan the other houses on the street. They all seemed to be similar to this one, though better cared for.

“Are you two coming?” Liam called from the front stoop.

“Afraid to go in, by yourself?” Janice quipped, before she could stop herself. “Sorry— You know how I am.”

“I’m going to make you an ‘inappropriate jokes’ jar. At a quarter a pop, I’ll be a millionaire, in a year.” Liam smiled, as he said it, however.

The house wasn’t bad, inside. The carpet would have to go, of course. It was a stained, yellow shag, that all the steam cleaning in the world wouldn’t fix. There were traces of crayon drawings on the walls in the smallest of the three bedrooms, that had bled through the last haphazard paint job; the bottom pane of the window in one bathroom, was cracked, and would barely crank open; and there was a worrisome stain on the ceiling in the master bath, but the place had some nice features, too.

The back yard was large and fenced. Spike would have all the room he needed, and would love it, once the grass was cut. There was a screen around the back patio, which would keep the mosquitoes at bay in the summer, and there were even a few fruit trees. They weren’t citrus, so Janice had no idea what they were, but they gave off some nice shade.

“It’ll do, I guess.” Liam said, when they had toured each room.

Janice could see that he’d relaxed, considerably.

“It’ll do, very nicely,” she agreed. “A touch of paint, some fresh, low pile carpet— It’ll be great.”

“Let’s back the trailer in, unhitch it, and grab something to eat, before we start unloading,” Liam suggested. “It’s nearly lunch time, and I need fuel.”

“I hate to leave Spike, and we can’t go into a sit-down place, with him.”

Liam stroked his greying ginger beard. “Okay,” he said, after a moment’s thought, “We’ll get a couple of chairs out of the trailer, and I’ll run for takeout. We can improvise a table out of some boxes.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll give Lisa a call, and let her know that we’ve landed.”

“As long as you don’t show her the front of the house,” he grinned. “I’d never live it down.”

*****

“Hi, Janice,” her sister in law answered, after two rings. “I was starting to worry, a little. Did you make it?”

“We did. Liam’s on a lunch run. We didn’t want to leave Spike alone, in a strange place.”

“Did he do okay, on the trip?”

“Spike slept, most of the way. Liam cussed until we were off the Turnpike. I never did hear a teacher with such a flair for profanity.”

Lisa chuckled. “My brother is gifted, in many ways. Probably best that he got it out of his system. You both start… is it next week, or the week after?”

“Week after next.”

“Nervous?”

“Petrified. Lisa, I don’t know anything about counseling kids. It’s not my thing. I’ve always worked with data, not children.”

“You’ll be a natural. You’re a people person. Children are just miniature people.”

“Speaking of miniature people, how’s the grand-baby?”

“Adorable. Starting to eat finger foods, and fling them. Toni swears he said ‘Mamaw’, this morning, but I’m skeptical. He calls Tucker ‘Papaw’ though, and it’s as clear as a bell. Want to see a picture?”

Janice smothered a laugh. Lisa had denied herself the status of grand-motherhood right up to the last minute. Now, she was embracing it.

“Of course. I always like pictures of little Willie-T.”

The picture arrived in seconds. “He looks like a redheaded version of Tucker,” Janice observed.

“Doesn’t he? Toni says he’s not hers,” Lisa laughed. “When will you be up, to see him, in person?”

“This weekend, maybe. Liam and I are the advance party. We have the real movers coming, tomorrow. After that, it’s all over but the unpacking.”

“You know, I could close the shop for a day or two. Help you get settled, maybe?”

“That’s sweet, Sis—but I’m not even sure where I want things to go, yet.”

“I get it. Moving is chaos, as it is, without extra ‘help’. What’s the place like, though?”

“The carpet’s a nightmare, but the AC works. Liam was disappointed that the photo wasn’t accurate. The house is a little older, and needs some outdoor care, but it’s not bad. I think we can feel at home, here.”

They chatted a while longer. The call ended after Liam arrived with the food and said a few words to his sister.

**********************************

There was something about New Canaan Academy that reminded Janice of the infamous orphan asylum, in Jane Eyre, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. The students were not ‘charity children’. They were the children of people with money; tuition at New Canaan was not inexpensive.

Nor was it a girls’ school; the student body was coed. They weren’t starving, certainly; more than one rotund student passed her in the hallway, as she was led on a tour with Liam, given by the Dean, Dr. Starkey.

Starkey was a tall, cadaverous man with perfect manners that were nearly condescending. Janice pondered the possibility of someone being so courteous as to be rude. He wasn’t popular, among the students, she could tell. They gave him a wide berth, even as they glanced at her and Liam with curiosity.

More than once, she heard “a shark”, disguised as a sneeze, as they neared a group of students just before they disbanded. Evidently, Starkey had heard it, too.

“We don’t allow our students to idle together, in large groups,” Starkey remarked.

“In the hallways,” Janice stated.

“Anywhere,” he contradicted, with a white smile that was the product of high end veneers. “There are social functions, sponsored by the school, and mealtimes are a natural time to socialize, of course, with one’s table mates.”

“You have assigned seating, at meals?” Janice asked, ignoring Liam’s warning glance.

“Mrs. Miles, this is a therapeutic educational program. The students here have failed to thrive in public school, where the rules are more lax. Our rules are stricter, and they are enforced. They keep the students safe, and provide healthy boundaries. Good behavior is rewarded, I assure you.”

He paused their walk, and turned to face her. “I understand the culture shock, Mrs. Miles, truly. I was a teacher in the public sector, myself. It took time for me to embrace the program. Yet, when I saw, with my own eyes, the undeniable benefits, I couldn’t do otherwise.”

Starkey resumed their walk. “This is the refectory,” he said, leading them into a large room, with rows of long tables and chairs. “Junior members of the faculty take meals with the students. Women at the head of girls’ tables, men with the boys. You’ll be given a handbook with the guidelines for overseeing students at mealtimes. Don’t be alarmed, Mr. Miles. As the most junior teachers on staff, you’ll be asked to oversee breakfast and lunch, but dinner is always handled by our Honors students. One of those rewards I mentioned earlier, to your wife. Senior staff eat at the upper table, of course.”

The rest of the tour seemed endless. There was a gym; a computer lab; a drama room; a wood shop; a metal shop; a home economics room; a teacher’s lounge, and an art room. By the time they reached the library, Janice’s feet had begun to hurt, and she had worn her ugly ‘sensible’ shoes.

“All of the actual classrooms are upstairs, of course,” Starkey said. “Your office is in the administration wing, next to the clinic, Mrs. Miles. “You may have a look at it, on our way to uniform supply.”

“Uniform supply?” Janice asked, trying not to look as horrified as she felt.

“Yes, indeed. Our junior staff all wear uniforms and lanyards. You didn’t notice?”

“I didn’t realize they were teachers, I suppose.”

“Refectory staff wear white; custodial wear orange; medical wear grey; and educators have their choice of two shades of blue. You uniforms will be blue, Mrs. Miles. You aren’t a teacher, per se, but it would be confusing to have you mistaken for medical staff.”

“May I ask—“

“Why even teachers wear uniforms? Simply because we lead, by example. This,” he indicated his suit and tie, “is my uniform. I have several of them– all identical.”