Amateur Hour

The food in the cafeteria looked more appetizing than Liam had expected. After filling his plate with only the amount of food he thought he could eat (per the etiquette guidelines, in his handbook), he followed his young minder to the table he had been assigned to oversee. He would be glad to be free of the young man’s company. Riley had proved to be taciturn and unfriendly, though scrupulously respectful.

Liam supposed he couldn’t blame the kid. As a rule, boys his age weren’t enamored of authority figures. He glanced around the huge room, before seating himself, and finally spotted Janice, far away on the girls’ side. He managed to catch her eye, and wave. She briefly touched three fingers to her lips, and held them up, in an approximation of the greeting from the Hunger Games.

He grinned, shaking his head, and took his seat. She was hanging in there, so far.

“You know that lady, sir?” the boy at his left, piped up. He was a short, skinny kid, with glasses.

“My wife,” Liam replied, still smiling. “Liam Miles,” he introduced himself, extending his hand. “I’ll be teaching World History.”

The boy hesitated, then shook with him. “Robert Miller. Professional truant.”

“Then, I’ll try to make my classes too interesting for you to want to skip, Mr. Miller.”

Riley, seated to his right, gave a skeptical ‘pfft’ sound, even as he pulled a small black object from his blazer pocket, that reminded Liam of a cop’s citation book.

“Gonna give yourself a demerit, for dissing a teacher, Franklin?” another student asked.

“Watch the slang, Ramirez. I was just thinking that the only class Miller skips is gym.” Franklin Riley said, a little defensively, Liam thought.

“When I want to smell animals, I go to the zoo,” Miller shrugged. “When was the last time you changed your socks, Franklin?”

“Is it my fault your mom’s behind on my laundry?”

“Too busy writing your term papers, for you, I guess. No, wait—I’m the one who does that.”

A few of the other boys snorted, and Franklin Riley reddened. He seemed quelled, for the time being, however.

“What does your wife teach, Mr. Miles?” Ramirez changed the subject.

“Self awareness, critical thought, decision making…”

“Guidance counselor. Got it,” Ramirez grinned. “She’s a step up from ol’ Falconi, at a distance, anyway. “That poor old fart finally lost it. Oh, put your little ticket book away, Franklin. He’s not here.”

“It’s still disrespect,” Riley maintained, continuing to jot.

“To what? His memory? Dude’s gone, not dead. Kiss-ass,” he added, when Riley, ripped the pink paper at the perforation, and passed it, to the boy on his immediate right.

Reaching across the table was forbidden, so the demerit slip had to make its way from hand to hand until it reached its recipient. When it did, Liam caught Ramirez’s eye, pointed to the demerit, and made a summoning gesture. The paper made its way back around the table, to Liam.

“New rule,” he said, ripping it in half. “No more demerits at breakfast. No one screws up someone else’s day, before it gets started, from now on. I’ll have your copy, too, Mr. Riley”

“With all due respect, sir—“

“With power comes responsibility. The first responsibility is not to abuse the power. Are you a leader, Mr. Riley, or a tyrant? Choose.”

Riley mulled it over, for a moment, then reluctantly tore his copy out of the book.

“They’re numbered, sir,” he warned. “If Dr. Starkey notices…”

“Then, you tell him what happened, and it’s my responsibility. Good man,” he added, as Riley handed it over. “Eat, gentlemen. Busy day, ahead.”

*******

“Kill. Me. Now,” Janice groaned, settling into the passenger seat, next to her husband.

“That good, huh?” Liam smiled, tiredly.

“I got a talking-to, courtesy of Dr. Starkey.”

“Already? You work fast, honey. What did you do? Unbutton your cuffs and roll them up a couple of turns?”

“I introduced myself to a student, by my first name. She tattled.”

“Was it your minder?”

“Yeah,” Janice sighed.

“Try not to take it too much to heart. ‘Honors’ student doesn’t have the same meaning here, evidently.”

“No kidding, Kojak!” She was glaring at him.

In return, he squinted at her. “Did you actually eat anything, today? Sounds like your blood sugar is tanking. There’s a granola bar, in my satchel,” he offered. “That should hold you, until dinner.”

“I don’t like the hard ones. They’re like gnawing a plank.”

“You’re having an episode, Jan. Eat it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her dig out the granola bar, and unwrap it. “We’ll stop off at the store, and get you some proper protein bars, on the way home.”

“And a girdle, or whatever passes for a girdle, these days.”

He knew better than to touch that comment. Janice wasn’t fat. He had always found her curves appealing. If she had a bit of a tummy, it didn’t detract from her looks, in his opinion. But, in her current hypoglycemic state, anything he said on the subject would be wrong, even a sincere compliment.

“Maybe I should get a backup pair of slippers, too,” he commented, just for something to say.

The noise she made sounded like a chuff of laughter, disguised as a cough.

“Sorry. Crumb went down the wrong way,” she said.

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

Guy

Guillermo Ramirez had good instincts, when it came to people. From the day he was born, his Abuelita had insisted that he had had “old eyes”, and would see everything through them. Abuelita Rosa was something of a mystic, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. Guillermo had seen a lot, for his age.

Franklin Riley was a tool, in the literal sense. He was proving to be as useful to “Guy” Ramirez as he was to Dr. Starkey—more so, maybe. Naturally, Guy couldn’t care less about Franklin’s Rat Book, other than that it amused him. The dude had a bright future in traffic enforcement, if he could learn to spell ‘enforcement’—or ‘traffic, for that matter.

Guy had learned some interesting things at breakfast, thanks to Franklin and his ticket book. This new guy, Liam Miles, was either simple or ballsy. The wife had to be a shrink, of some kind, so Guy’s opinion leaned toward ballsy. It was a brave act to marry someone who had a degree in screwing with people’s heads.

Miles appeared to have a sense of fair play, and justice. In his own way, he had made it clear that he was an enforcer, too. Vetoing Franklin’s demerit was an alpha move, on the first day of a new job. Calm, firm establishment of dominance was the way to go, with the Franklin Rileys, of the world.

Guy couldn’t wait to meet the wife. He hoped she would turn out to be made of sterner stuff than her predecessor. Falconi had been half broken, already, by the things he knew about New Canaan. Guy wondered where he was, now. Had he ever even made it home, after the ambulance ride?

“Lights out in ten, Ramirez,” Franklin said, poking his crew cut head into the room.

“Fuck off,” was Guy’s automatic response.

“Slow learner—but that’s okay.” A little smile played on his face.

Guy flashed Franklin his most menacing grin. He’d cultivated it, for years; fashioned it from an old image of the father he could barely remember. It was effective. Franklin opted to fuck right off. Guy chuckled to himself, when he had.

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

Janice

“What the hell are you doing?” Liam demanded, scowling at the Security officer, who was digging around in Janice’s satchel.

“Retrieving contraband,” she replied, drawing out the box of protein bars.

“Protein bars are contraband?”

“No, sir. Protein bars in a box are contraband.”

“That is the most moronic—“

“Liam,” Janice warned. “It’s fine. I can see why boxes are suspect.”

Liam held his tongue, for a moment, but his ire grew, when the guard proceeded to open the plastic wrapped, factory sealed box, to inspect the contents. Janice could feel it, as much as see it.

If it hadn’t been for her hard pinch, on the back of his arm, he would have had even more to say, when the guard turned the box up and dumped the bars onto her table.

“Satisfied? Or, do you need to open each bar, individually?” he asked, his voice oozing sarcasm.

“I was almost satisfied. Ma’am, how many of these will you be needing, today?”

“Two should do it,” Janice managed, hoping the expression on her face looked like a smile.

The guard took two bars off the table, and placed them back into the satchel.

“In the future, just leave them loose, in your bag, and you’ll be fine. He can collect the rest from Dr. Starkey,” she said, reaching for a tape dispenser.

Liam glared at the woman, as she replaced the remainder of the bars into the box, and taped the top shut. “Go ahead,” she said, motioning toward the door that exited into the school.

“I’ll have her job,” he growled, under his breath.

“You won’t, either. She was just functioning within her parameters.” Janice sighed. “You have to pick your battles, Sugar. Her issue was with the box, not with me. You can see her point, can’t you?”

“I can. You absolutely look like a smuggler.”

Janice smiled. “If I were, I’d have learned something about the system, anyway. Boxes don’t fly.”

“How is that useful, to know?”

“If I wanted to smuggle something? Well, I’d try different kinds of containers, of course, until I found something that was ignored.”

“Huh—“ he laughed. “And, what would you smuggle?”

“Cell phones. Darlin’ did you know these kids are here twenty-four-seven, with no means of contacting anyone outside the school? That’s not safe, or humane.”

“Maybe it’s to prevent Internet access.”

“Yes—God forbid anyone should watch videos, listen to music, or see any social media.”

“My wife, the rebel. I’m not saying you’re wrong, honey. But, this isn’t the place to talk about it.”

“No, it’s not.” He was right, of course. Janice had never felt so observed, in her life as when she was nearly alone in these halls, with her husband. The cameras were everywhere, and for all she knew, they were equipped for sound, as well. “Step into my parlor?” she invited, unlocking her office door.

“All right,” he agreed.

Once inside, Janice dropped her satchel onto a chair, and turned to receive her parting kiss, for the day. Some rules were meant to be broken, and this was one of them.

*******

Steph

Steph Howard didn’t have time for a trip to the guidance counselor’s office, nor the patience to deal with Mrs. Miles’ hurt feelings, just now. A girl in B Dorm had gone missing, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it, if she could.

“You summoned?” she asked, dropping into the chair opposite Mrs. Miles, with an ironic smile, and an affected indifference.

“I did, and thank you for coming, Miss Howard.”

“I did tell you I’d have to rat you out, to Starkey,” Steph said, cutting to the chase.

“Yes, and this isn’t about that.”

Steph smoothed her face into a blank, allowing only a curious tilt of her head.

“You seem preoccupied, today,” Mrs. Miles continued.

“As opposed to all the other days you’ve seen me.”

“No, I don’t know you, very well. That’s true. But, I can tell when something’s eating someone. I’ve observed enough to know that your appetite is off. You’re inattentive and withdrawn.”

“Sometimes, I just fall to thinking about being awakened out of a dead sleep at three twenty-two, on Sunday morning, dragged out of bed by screaming strangers, and hustled into an unmarked cop car. Dulls the appetite.” The flat, bald delivery had the desired effect. Mrs. Miles was shocked. Steph felt sorry for her, but she just didn’t have time for this. Her story wasn’t unusual; Mrs. Miles would just have to toughen up, or find another job.

“That shouldn’t happen to any child. I’m very sorry it happened to you.”

“Why? You didn’t arrange it.” She considered mentioning that the counselor simply made her living off the practice, if indirectly, but that seemed like unnecessary roughness. “May I go, now, Mrs. Miles?”

“Of course. Unless you want to talk to me about Jess Greene.”

The comment startled her, though not visibly. “Jess was in another dorm. I’m in D-Dorm. She was in B.,” Steph hedged. “Personally, I hope she’s halfway to Key West.”

“So do I.”

This remark surprised Steph, as did the realization that this meeting really wasn’t about her. She wondered what the gossip was, on the guidance counselor’s side of the house.

“Are you pumping everyone for information?” Steph asked, feigning mild boredom.

“Everyone that I dare,” was the frank reply. “I don’t know the rest of the staff very well, and it would look odd, for me to suddenly be calling in girls from B-Dorm. I’m sure someone would tell me to mind my own business, before the day was over.”

Steph allowed herself a small smile. She couldn’t help it. “Something tells me you’re very bad at that, Mrs. Miles.”

“It’s my superpower, and my Achilles heel.”

They studied each other, for a long moment.

“You have the right idea, Janice, if you’re sure you want to go there. I can’t tell you much, though. I had two classes with Jess. She always seemed baked. Word was she was dealing, too. You have more info than I do. Access to it, anyway.”

“Do you think she ran off, Steph?”

“No. If we’re being honest, no. Jess is the tip of the iceberg. I’ve been here, for four months. Jess is the fourth kid to disappear, since I came. There’s even a pattern. Watch who gets all wound up, in the next month. I guarantee you, it’ll be the boys.”

“You don’t know anything, because no one talks about it. Is that about right?”

“Nailed it. Of course, I don’t know about faculty gossip.”

“I don’t know if everyone’s quiet because I’m new, of if that’s just the way they roll.”

Steph nodded, and rose.

“What are you going to report me for, this time?” Mrs. Miles joked.

“I’ll point out your dress code violation. Don’t forget to roll your sleeves down, before you leave the office.”

“Have you considered a career in law enforcement?” Janice scowled, tugging her cuffs back to her wrists, and buttoning them.

Steph was still laughing, when she was halfway down the hall.

*******

Liam

“You’re quiet,” Liam observed. “Thinking about the runaway girl?”

“I’m not so sure she is a runaway. Are you?”

“That seems to be the consensus.”

“Where did you hear a consensus? My impression has been that she’s gone, and no one is talking about it.”

“The guys are. There’s been some wild speculation, of course; they’re kids, and that’s what kids do. The more level headed boys seem pretty sure that she just took off.”

“And the other staff?” Janice challenged.

“Didn’t hear much, from them. We haven’t been around long enough to be ‘in’ with them, exactly. Not to mention that I’m building a questionable reputation for myself. The interview with Starkey, regarding the protein bars didn’t go well. I may have lost my temper, a little bit.”

In point of fact, Liam had been incensed by Starkey’s intimation that perhaps Janice might benefit from eating less. The prick just couldn’t wrap his head around hypoglycemia, and the fact that more, smaller, meals were better for Janice than fewer, larger, ones. He seemed unable to differentiate between calorie consumption and maintaining blood sugar levels. It had been like trying to explain flight to a worm.

“Oh, Liam—Why?”

“I don’t like being pushed around by glorified mall cops,” he shrugged. “It turned out all right, though.”

It had, once he’d demanded that the staff doctor come in, to verify. The doctor had even gone the extra mile, suggesting that Janice be permitted to bring boxes in, as long as they came in, sealed.

The doctor, LaFace, pointed out that Janice could never know, from one day to the next how many she might need, and that vending machine snacks from the teachers lounge were far from ideal. By then, Starkey had lost his taste for the argument and granted written permission.

Liam had gotten a sense that the doctor had enjoyed taking the Dean down a peg. He didn’t doubt there was some history, there. Liam grinned, now, at the recollection. “You have official permission to bring your protein bars in, by the box,” he announced.

“How on earth did you come out on top, on that one?”

“Long story. I had to bring in an expert, though, and I don’t doubt that he spread the news. Maybe people are keeping their distance from me, for now.”

“So, I’m not just imagining that people were looking at me, oddly.”

“Guilt by association, I guess. I’m sorry about that, Jan. It’ll blow over.” He paused. But, you’re saying the girls weren’t even a little chatty, about Jess Greene?” he asked, returning to the original subject.

“Only one. The rest are like broody little hens. And, what the one had to say wasn’t very comforting, at all.” She went on to relate it, leaving the girl’s name out of it, which Liam was accustomed to; Jan almost never mentioned names of people she dealt with in a professional capacity, even in the old days, when they had been no more than names on paper.

“Okay. That’s disturbing,” he allowed, when she was finished.

“What do you think I should do?”

“I think you should leave it alone. It’s one girl’s hearsay. Poking around could get you into trouble, and it could be for nothing. And, if there’s anything truly underhanded going on, it could be dangerous.”