The Blameless Bystander

By Autumn Writer

Chapter 2—A Ray of Hope

James was naked when he woke on Saturday morning. His bout of self-pleasuring the prior night filtered back into his consciousness. He had performed an act that he had vowed that he never would. It was a vow made only to himself. He had never broken his vows made to others, and to God, only this private one. As he lay in bed perusing the cracked ceiling he allowed that fact to rationalize the act, but the self-permission struck him as weak and he knew that he would struggle with it many times before final resolution.

It was time for his morning run. He dressed in running clothes and stepped out the door. The sunny weather was gone, along with his innocence. There was a drizzle that kept everything damp and it felt chilly. As he descended the stairway to the ground he wondered if the blonde goddess of the prior day would reappear. He stretched for a few minutes before starting out and looked around. No one was about, blonde or otherwise.

He set off on his run, thinking about his route. Yesterday’s run had been a good introduction to his new surroundings, but hardly satisfactory for a routine. He decided to circumnavigate the school grounds. That would extend his exercise to something more challenging.

It was the Saturday before Labor Day. He wondered what he was going to do with himself. He knew no one; had nowhere to go. Descartes could only keep one company for a limited time. Even the library would be closed. He thought about the difference between loneliness and solitude.

He had thought that he craved solitude. He found all of it that he wanted. He thought that the difference was in the desire, or lack of it, to be alone. It was simple enough. He was finding that that there were deeper truths to be understood. There was a spectrum of the state of aloneness, wherein a person could find oneself drifting from red to violet without full awareness of the shift until it was too late.

Solitude caused a person to think, learn, meditate and achieve understanding. A person could exercise a mind and a body. Improvements of all sorts were possible that could not be achieved in the company of others. Outside influences were a distraction. As one would approach understanding, the intrusion of exterior influences would invariably disturb the purity of thought, the perfection of reasoned truth.

“Whew! I’m going bonkers already,” James said out loud.

He was contemplating the meaning of loneliness, too. He really hadn’t had a chance to experience it. Since he had driven into town he had been often in the presence of others, either at the diner, the school office, Mrs. Wilkinson, in the stores. He wondered to himself if it was the expectation of loneliness that worried him, or if the contacts had been less than satisfactory. He feared loneliness, but understanding of it eluded him. He looked ahead to days of nothingness if he could not travel back to the sweeter end of the spectrum. Yes, it was tricky business, this state of aloneness.

“I should have bought a television,” he panted as he rounded a corner.

His blonde ideal did not appear. It might have been the rain. Maybe she had peeked out at the gray sky and slid back into bed and snuggled up to whomever she had slept with. It was sure that she had someone to sleep with. The young and strong, the beautiful, those who were sure of themselves, never worried about loneliness. They could choose solitude or togetherness when and with whom they wished. He pictured her snuggling with her lover, or husband, or husband-lover, thinking about the next steps the snuggling might lead to.

After a while he rounded the final corner and stopped in front of his Victorian-style rooming house. He walked up the long driveway to cool his muscles down. He would put on some coffee and take a refreshing, hot shower. This morning he decided to try making some breakfast. Later, he thought that he would take a ride around the countryside and learn what he could. He reminded himself to buy some wine for Nathan’s party Monday night. The run had been good for him.

********

During his solitary travels over the weekend James made sure to find out where Nathan’s street was, based on the directions that Abby furnished him as he departed the school office on Friday. It was on a cul-de-sac on the edge of the village. It was unclear if it was inside the village or just outside within the Town jurisdiction. Its location allowed it to take on a village or country look at the choosing of the occupant. As James drove past at six in the evening on Labor Day it looked as Nathan had arranged a little of both.

It was a ranch-style house—all on one floor. It wasn’t a starter house or a down-sizer, but large and sprawling. It appeared to have been built more recently than most of the houses in the town. It sat atop a knoll on a double lot. The grounds were neatly kept. The house was made of red brick with a large picture window the focal point in the center. Evergreen shrubs flanked it and the dark green blended nicely with the brick. It was an edifice composed strictly of right angles. There were no arches, curves, oblique or acute angles. That fact stood out because it imposed a tone of plainness on the place despite its size and quality of construction. All-in-all, it was nice, but meticulously without ostentation.

The rainy weather of Saturday had given over to the comfortable sun of late summer. The driveway and street were full of cars. James finally found a remote empty space down the street and parked. He chuckled as he thought that the Nathan’s house looked like a miniature of the school that he was in charge of. He grabbed his bottle of wine that had, unfortunately, warmed up and set out for the big house on the knoll. As he approached, the smell of a barbecue and traces of gray smoke rose from over the crest of the roof of the house. As he drew closer he could hear the cacophony of a dozen unconnected chattered conversations.

He didn’t bother with knocking or the doorbell—just followed his ear to the source of the noisy crowd. As he entered the back yard James realized that it was the same scene that he had witnessed countless times during his teaching career.

As he looked about he could see that he could classify most of the party-goers into one of three categories. Huddled in one corner of the patio were a group of women, each with a glass of white wine in hand. James identified them in an instant—wives of teachers. They chattered away about little. Each looked slightly uncomfortable; as well they should, since they would rather have been elsewhere. They were probably counting down the minutes on an internal clock, nursing their Chablis and explaining to themselves why Nathan’s big house wasn’t really that much nicer than their own, after all.

In another corner stood a similar group, except they were the male counterparts of the first group—husbands of teachers. They were positioned around the keg, trading lies about fishing and golf. They looked a looked a little more relaxed than the women. They didn’t care about Nathan’s house and each knew how much beer remained in the keg.

James looked around at a half dozen smaller groups—the teachers. Not all of the teachers attended, of course. Many had their own family commitments. They were divided by department or discipline. They were undoubtedly discussing the budget for the coming year and how their department took all the cuts while the football team got new uniforms. It wasn’t that James was cynical; even in a private school the scene played out without end.

He thought that he would try to guess the teachers’ groups’ subjects but felt a hand slap the back of his shoulder.

“There you are!” He recognized Nathan’s voice and spun around to face him. James lifted the bottle of wine as his offering and Nathan took it with a simple ‘thanks’ and did not release his hold James’ shoulder until he offered his hand to complete the greeting. It wasn’t a strong, forceful grip that Nathan employed. It wasn’t intended to be physical. The act and presence of it was enough to let James know that Nathan was in control. “Glad you could come. Let me show you around.”

“I was an idiot to forget to invite you the other day,” Nathan went on as they filtered through the crowd. “Abby told me that she took care of it and I was relieved.” They stopped at the keg and Nathan poured James a beer. He didn’t ask if he wanted one—just assumed that he did. James accepted it from him and he took a gulp.

“Just serve yourself when you want to eat,” Nathan called out over the din. He pointed to a reserve of already-cooked hots and hamburgers and a bank of salads lined up on a table nearby. “This is our last barbecue of the year, so it has to be a good one!”

To James’ surprise he was quite hungry and he loaded a plate with a hamburger and potato salad right away. Until that moment he hadn’t realized how poorly he had fended for himself in his apartment. Nathan's eyes widened as he glanced at the heavily-laden paper plate.

“For me, cooking is still a learning process!” James confessed with a grin. Nathan laughed and said that he understood.

“Let me introduce you around.,” Nathan offered. “I suppose that we should start with your own department.” He led James to a group of three men and a woman. They stopped their conversation as Nathan approached and stood waiting attentively for him to start speaking.

“This is James O’Toole. He’ll be joining the Math Department this year. I thought that I’d bring him over so you could all get to know each other.” With that, Nathan turned and left the group.

Each succeeding math teacher extended a hand to greet James. There were Bill, Ed, John and Doris. Each of the four appeared to be uneasy for an unknown reason. James felt that he would be fortunate if he could only remember their names. Doris appeared to designate herself to lead the questioning. She was a short, plump woman, about fifty. She had salt and pepper hair with streaks of blonde that made James suspect an abandoned attempt at coloring. Her face bore an aggressive expression, full of suspicion. James knew that they had never met, but somehow thought that he knew her.

“Where are you from, James?” she started. “Where did you teach? Where did you go to college? Why did you come down here to Bates?”

James answered each interrogative as it was posed. On the last one, he followed Nathan’s advice.

“I realized that I had to switch to the public schools for the retirement and benefits. The Catholic Schools just can’t give those.” There were traces of nods from the audience. “I’m not getting any younger,” he added, laughing at his own joke. His audience politely laughed along with him.

“Did Nathan hire you as the Department Chair?” one of the men blurted out.

“No! I didn’t know a thing about it until I met with Nathan a few days ago,” James replied in all honesty.

With that answer his fellow teachers broke into smiles and relaxed their postures. The mood turned more cordial.

“What are you teaching?” Doris asked.

James told her and a silent groan emitted from the group, ruining the mood.

“Four Sections!” Doris responded with disgust. James was confused. “We just got our load cut to three sections last semester. Nathan’s trying to undo it through the back door. Of course, you had no way to know.” James shrugged. In fact, in the Catholic school he had always been used to four sections, and took on a fifth on a few occasions when staffing was short.

“Sorry.,” he apologized. “I didn’t ask for them. Nathan just told me the other day in the office.”

The group of four rolled their eyes and seemed to accept his explanation.

“Where are you living?” Doris demanded. James sensed the end of the inquisition approaching.

“On Whitman St.—in a big Victorian house,” James answered.

“Oh! That’s my mother’s house. I grew up there.” Doris piped up. She decided to release James at that moment. James got the feeling that she would be comparing notes with his landlady the next morning.

After that, the group melted away. Doris, and one of the men, collected their spouses and started to edge toward the exit. One of the men wished James good luck. It was then that James saw her.

She had been inside the house. She strode out to join a group of three male teachers. Each wore a polo shirt and khaki trousers. They all had thick necks and narrow waists. Each crisscrossed sinewy forearms over their chests like steel belts. There was no mistaking that they were the gym teachers. Attaching herself to the group was the blonde runner from Friday morning.

She, herself, wore khaki cropped pants and a polo shirt. It fit so well, neither stretching the fabric nor allowing excess material to sag from her form. With her perfect, toned body, what else could she be but a physical education teacher, unless she was an athlete? Perhaps she was both. She assumed the center of attention of the group and obviously enjoyed it. She was careful to show a lot of teeth and come tantalizingly close to rubbing her perfect body up against that of one of her male colleagues, but never quite actually touching them. If she had recognized James she did not show it. He tried to convince himself to amble over and give himself another chance at her. But, he stopped. What chance did he have? After the rebuff of Monday morning he would only be inviting humiliation, especially as she was flanked by the polo-shirted Adonises from her department. He turned and headed for the door to go in the house.

Against one wall was the usual lineup of ladies waiting to use the rest room. He decided to head in the other direction. In the living room there was a gathering of people having a conversation. In the midst of it he spied Abby. As she saw him, Abby motioned James over to their corner.

“Listen, everyone!” she said in a happy voice. “This is James O’Toole. He’s just moved down to Bates to teach math this year.”

There were introductions all around. It was a friendly group. The last to be introduced was Abby’s husband.

“Bubba McIntire!” the big man thrust out a meaty paw and grabbed James’ hand before he had a chance to offer it. “Well, it’s really Edmund— so you know why I like ‘Bubba’ better!” At the joke the whole group broke into hearty laughter.

“Bubba’s just in today from the road!” Abby informed James. It seemed that the rest of the group knew it already.

“I’ve got my own rig. I drive over the road.” he proudly stated. “I was just in Texas carrying piping from Pennsylvania for oil platforms. I’m going back down south on Wednesday.”

“Oh, no!” cried Abby. “I thought that you were going to be home for a while.” It appeared that he was breaking the news to her and the group at the same time.

“I forgot to tell you; sorry honey,” the big man confessed sheepishly. “You know how good the money is on these oil platform runs.”

Abby fell silent. The others started chattering again. No one noticed James looking at her. He couldn’t help it, and compared her to the gym teacher-amazon-goddess out in the yard. James started telling himself that Abby’s breasts were a lot larger than he originally thought. Sure, the younger gym teacher had it all over any woman in looks, but Abby wasn’t so bad. The two women were so different, and the similar too. The biggest similarity was that both women had the ability to fuel fantasies in lonely men. The widest difference was that the goddess was inaccessible on her pedestal, while Abby, on the other hand was not.

She was older, a bit more ordinary, and flirted with him in the school on Friday. At least, he thought that she flirted. At any rate, when it was only a fantasy to be indulged James could make it flirting or not as he chose. She had called him into their group, a friendly act, which James knew would never have come from the blonde.

James told himself to quit staring. Bubba was standing next to him, and he might not be quite as friendly if he figured out what James was thinking about his wife. It would be a high price to pay for the indulgence of a daydream. He excused himself to go outside and freshen up his beer.

“I’ll go with you—I need one too!” Bubba exclaimed, and James wondered if he had already been caught and the big man was going outside with him to set him straight.

“I’m not that good at that long-term gabbing,.” Bubba told him. “I’ve got the idea that it doesn’t suit you very well either.” He slapped James on the back, and they made their way to the keg. “I’ve only got myself for conversation when I’m in the cab of my truck.”

The crowd was thinning. The keg was almost empty. With full beers in hand, they turned back inside when a man called out Bubba’s name and got his attention. He moved to the side to talk with his acquaintance.

James realized that he didn’t want to go back inside to stare at Abby again, to perhaps get caught and embarrassed. He aimlessly strolled round the yard. His stomach was full; he worked on his beer sip by sip. At the edge of the patio he stopped at a brick wall about waist high. He leaned against it while he looked out on the sun setting over the hills in the western sky.

“Hi, there!” he heard a female voice behind him. James turned to find a woman standing beside him. She was in her late forties; could have been fifty. She had a kind of ‘Dolly Parton’ look. She was a little more made up than the other women. “You’re new!” she exclaimed.

“That’s right, I am,” James answered. “I’m James O’Toole. I’ll be teaching math this year.”

“I teach English, myself,” she said. “I’m Victoria Morgan.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Victoria.,” James answered politely.

“You’d better call me ‘Vicki’,” she corrected. “Everyone does.”

“Thanks, I’ll remember that,” James answered.

“Are you married, James?” she probed.

“No, I never have been,” James answered, a little bit on defense.

“I was married once,” she informed him. “But I’m not married any more. I’m divorced.”

She paused for a moment to let the announcement sink into James’ consciousness with all its multi-faceted meanings. James stood still and silent, feeling pressure to respond—not knowing what to say. He took a gulp of beer, even though he didn’t want it. Even the few seconds that he required to consume it would be a ploy for extra time. He wondered where Abby was and why he left the friendly group in the house that was so comfortable.

James lowered the cup from his lips. Vicki took a half step closer and leaned up against him. There was a considerable difference in their heights. She rose up on her toes and whispered in his ear.

“And don’t you worry, honey. I don’t want to get married again.” As she lowered herself down she maneuvered her ample breast in the right angle crook formed by James’ arm as it held the beer cup. The deposited breast created a strange, yet unmistakable sensation. Already on edge, James tensed and jumped away from her, just enough to break the contact. Vicki giggled at his reaction.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you spill your beer,” she proffered the weak apology.

“It’s alright,” James choked out the answer. “I didn’t really want it, anyway.”

“Oh, good,” Vicki replied. “Nice sunset.” She changed the subject, keeping him from running away.

James nodded, but made no other answer. They stood for a minute, enjoying the swirls of pink and orange in the sky. It was getting darker. It was almost time to go. Vicki turned and edged closer again.

“Is there anything that you did want?” she purred softly. “I could get it for you.”

James drew in a breath and groped for an answer that he knew he would not find.

“I see that you two have met.” It was Nathan who had come up behind them. “Are you having a good time, Vicki?”

“Pretty fair, I would have to say. I haven’t seen you all night, Nathan,” she said as she turned around.

“I knew that I would have to find you before you left,” Nathan said.

“Well, Nathan,” she sighed, “you have found me and I am leaving.” She turned to James. “I’ll see you on Wednesday morning. Good night, all.”

As she sauntered out of the yard James was saved. At least he told himself so.

“We’ve got one more day of vacation until school starts,” Nathan said, putting his arm on James’ shoulder. “How about a round of golf tomorrow?”

“I’d like to,” James replied. “The problem is that I haven’t got my clubs here yet.”

The truth was that James hadn’t played in several years. The clubs had been collecting dust in his parents’ house.

“No problem!” Nathan assured. “I’ve got an extra set. I’ll loan them to you.”

James had no excuses.

“I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow morning,” Nathan said, not waiting for an answer.

“Alright,” James agreed. “I’ll give you my address.”

“No need.,” Nathan said. “I already know where you live.”

**********

James had already taken his morning run, followed by a shower and breakfast as he waited for Nathan to pick him up for their round of golf. The weather was holding up. It was a perfect day for golf.-

James knew the game. He played once and a while when he was a priest—not often enough to be good but enough to hold his own. He was rusty, not having played recently.

He saw Nathan’s SUV in the distance and it finally stopped where he was standing. “I’ve got a set of clubs in the back for you,” he called from the driver’s seat. “They’re my son’s, actually,” Nathan explained as James climbed in the passenger’s side. “He bought a new set when he graduated from college. He keeps this set at the house for when he comes home to visit.”

“Thanks for inviting me, Nathan,” James said as Nathan put the SUV in gear.

“Glad to,” Nathan shrugged. “The golf course isn’t far from here—just on the edge of the village. It’s nice enough, but not real challenging. It’s convenient. The next closest is twenty miles away.”

“That would suit me fine,” James answered with due modesty. “I haven’t played at all this year.”

“I asked Ed Cassidy to join us today,” Nathan continued. “Ed is the Business Manager of the Teachers’ Union. Even though we’re on different sides of the table at times, we’re friends. We have been since we were in Bates High School ourselves.”

“That sounds like a long time!” James made an attempt at a joke. Nathan laughed only a little. “I’m surprised that he wasn’t at your party last night.”

“It wouldn’t have looked good in front of all the other teachers,” was Nathan’s terse reply.

“By the way, thanks again for the invitation. I had a nice time. Everything was great,” James added, remembering his manners.

“It was our pleasure to have you,” Nathan returned the courtesy. “It was a shame that you didn’t get a chance to meet my wife, Jan. She would have enjoyed meeting you.”

Nathan pulled the SUV into the golf course parking lot and found a parking space.

“There’s Ed’s car,” Nathan said. “I’m sure that he’s in the locker room changing. We’ll meet him in there.”

Ed Cassidy rose from the bench when he saw Nathan and James approaching his locker. He was a big, burly man, about Nathan’s age, but not as tall and certainly not as fit. He had black, curly hair and a thick black moustache.

“Hey, Nathan!” he called out as he stood up. He thrust out a huge, hairy forearm that ended in a meaty hand. He and Nathan shook hands.

“Ed, this is James O’Toole, the new teacher that I told you about,” Nathan announced.

Ed thrust out his arm once again and grabbed James’ hand. “Glad to meet ‘cha!” he exclaimed as he shook it. “Welcome to Bates. I hope that you have good luck here.”

“I hope so, too,” James replied.

Ed released James’ hand. “Do what this guy says and you won’t need luck,” Ed pointed at Nathan.

The three men ventured out of the locker room and into the pro shop. James stepped to the cashier to pay his greens fees.

“That’s not necessary, James,” Nathan called to him. “Ed and I are members. You’re playing as our guest.”

James shrugged sheepishly and thanked them. “You can buy the drinks after the round,” Ed consoled him.

“You might want to think about taking out a membership here next year after you’re established in the community. Ed and I will sponsor you. Think about it,” Nathan advised.

James didn’t play great, but respectably. Nathan was a low handicapper. Ed hit the ball hard but sprayed it around. It was a pleasant day to play golf and the men were enjoying themselves.

On the fifth hole James’ and Nathan’s drives were in the left-center of the fairway. Ed had sliced to the right. As they sat in their cart in the fairway waiting for Ed to hit Nathan turned to James.

“Vicki Morgan is quite an ‘aggressive’ woman, isn’t she?” he said.

“Yes, she took me a little bit by surprise, I’m afraid,” James answered. Nathan nodded.

“It’s important in this town that people don’t get the wrong impression,” Nathan answered. “I know that it’s your business; you’re single and all. If people start buzzing about you it could make things difficult. That’s why I stepped in last night. I didn’t want you getting off on the wrong foot.”

“I guess that I’m inexperienced in these matters. I’ve never had much practice,” James answered.

“I figured as much. Sometimes I need to step in, to keep things the way they ought to be. It’s important for all of us. There are certain expectations. It’s up to me to make sure that those expectations are met,” Nathan pronounced.

“I don’t know what to say, Nathan. I was just having a quiet beer. It just happened before I knew it. Well—nothing really happened. I’m sorry,” James apologized.

“Sometimes people get caught up in things and it takes them over. I was making sure that it didn’t happen to you. I’m your friend,” Nathan assured him.

“Thanks, Nathan,” James answered.

“After you’ve been around awhile you’ll get the hang of it. If you take up with a woman, be discrete, unless you have long-term intentions. In that case, be discrete in a different way,” Nathan continued.

“I think that I’ll just keep to myself for awhile,” James conceded. “For right now I’ll just concentrate on teaching my four sections.”

“That’s the spirit!” Nathan cried. After a pause he glanced at Ed finishing his struggles in the rough. “It’s your turn to hit,” he said.

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

“Let’s go in the clubhouse and have a beer.” Nathan suggested as they finished up at the eighteenth green. He shot a 78; James a 93. It wasn’t Ed’s day and he stopped keeping score after the twelfth hole.

They found a table away from the bar. A waitress brought them a pitcher of beer and three mugs.

“James taught at a private school where the standards are quite high—strictly college prep,” Nathan remarked to Ed. “I hired him because I thought that we needed some of that experience.”

“You’ll find a different atmosphere here,” Ed turned to James. “Most of the students look at Math as a necessary evil that they have to get through to graduate. Most of what they learn they’ll never use again. I wouldn’t expect too much.”

“What about those that want to go to college?” James asked. “They need it for any science or engineering.”

“They get private tutors,” Ed replied. “It’s worth it to them and it gives the teachers a source of extra income.”

“I already explained that to him,” Nathan said. “The priorities here are Shop, Sports and Social Studies—in that order.”

“I understand the first two,” James acknowledged. “I don’t see why Social Studies comes ahead of Math, Science and English. Where I taught, it was the opposite.”

“People here want their kids to come out of schools with the same view of life that they have. We do our part in the school in some things. The churches do the rest,” Nathan instructed.

Ed nodded his head. “It’s different here. We’re set in our ways.”

“Here’s the issue.” Nathan leaned forward, the tone of his voice more intense. “We can’t be set in our ways anymore. We have a lot of pressure to upgrade our Math program. If we don’t meet the new State Standards we’ll get written up as a sub-standard school. You know what that means.”

Ed shook his head. James was confused, as well.

“It means that our State Aid formula will be in jeopardy. That means less money. We’ll have to increase taxes or cut salaries.”

“Now, you’ve got my attention!” Ed conceded.

“Not only that; some of our graduates that have gone to college have come home saying that they can’t compete with students from bigger schools because their math and science preparation isn’t as good,” Nathan went on. “They’re competing with students like those that James has been turning out for years. People are starting to talk.”

Ed nodded that he was starting to understand.

“Without a good Math program you won’t be able to do much with your science program, either,” James chipped in. Nathan nodded his head in grateful agreement.

“We’ve worked together a long time, Ed,” Nathan said.

“Ever since I was the left tackle and you were the Left End when we won the Sectional Championship,” Ed replied.

“If we don’t make some changes now, people will change us!” Nathan said. “They’ll want new people in charge, and that means my job, and in time that will put pressure on yours, too.”

Ed sat silently, a worried look on his face. “What are you suggesting?”

“We have to start upgrading the Math Department. I need the right~~a good~~ person in charge. None of the current teachers can do it. I want to put James in charge after the Christmas holiday. It will mean that he’ll be jumping over a number of teachers with more seniority. They all want to be the Chair. It means an extra ten thousand a year.”

“You are giving me a lot of headaches, Nathan,” Ed answered. “I can guarantee you that Doris will file a grievance, maybe others. James, here, isn’t even part of the union contract yet.”

“I know that, Ed. That’s why I wanted to have this get together, first,” Nathan replied, still leaning forward over the table. “We really need this.”

“What would you do differently?” Ed turned to James.

“James didn’t know what was on my mind until this moment,” Nathan cautioned.

“I think that each teacher should take four sections,” James volunteered. “That way there could be smaller classes. We should have advanced sections for college-bound students. Students and parents should be brought in at the start of ninth grade to tell them what they can expect. We have to set goals for the State Test. We…”

“Whoa!” Ed cried. “Nathan, you’ve got a real revolutionary here. I’m not sure that we’re ready.”

“Ready or not—we need it,” Nathan asserted.

“And, I don’t believe that teachers should get paid extra to tutor students who need help!” James finished his thought.

“You’re really going for it all!” Ed chuckled. “Have you been to the Board about this?” he asked, looking at Nathan.

“You know that I never go to them until you and I work things out first,” Nathan answered.

“Cut the Department Chair stipend to five thousand. Then everyone will want it less,” Ed suggested. “Say nothing about your plans to the other teachers—that means you, too, James. We might have to upgrade the tutoring program as a wedge. Get ready for some unhappy times, but we’ll work it out.”

“One more thing,” Nathan stated, as they rose from the table.

“Oh, what’s that?” Ed raised an eyebrow.

“It’s the reason that James left his post at Catholic High School in Rochester. He was a priest and decided not to be one any more.”

“Hmm!” Ed scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Any more to the story—you know what I mean?”

“No,” James testified. “There is not.”

“In that case, it’s your business,” Ed assured him.

James left a tip for the waitress. The three men left the clubhouse together.

**********

“It would be better if we kept our conversations in the bar to ourselves,” Nathan admonished as he stopped in the driveway of James’ rooming house.

James was naïve, but even he realized how volatile the subject would prove to be.

“I was serious, James. I have to get that Math Department in shape. You’ll be a big part of it, if you stick with me, but you have to let me do it my way.”

“I think that I’ll just concentrate on teaching my sections—until you call me. Just let me know,” James assured him.

“Concentrate on keeping your nose clean, as well,” Nathan warned. “With your background as an ex-priest, the people in the town will be less forgiving if something should come up.”

“I haven’t had a chance to get it dirty,” James protested.

“You will!” Nathan assured him. “You’re a prime target—a single guy, new in town. When they get wind of your being a priest, that session with Vicki last night will be just a warm-up.”

“I get it,” James answered, a little impatient.

“Sorry, James,” Nathan backed off. “It’s just that something like that will take down all my plans.”

“Aright, no problem,” James assured him.

“Something like what?” James asked himself as Nathan drove off.

Late that night James sat in the dark with a glass of scotch beside him. It wasn’t easy to get to sleep; he had plenty to think about. For one thing, he was taking on a new job in a new environment in the morning. He had always taught motivated students—or, at least students with motivated parents. From what people had told him, it would be different in Bates. He never had girls in his classroom. He knew how to handle young men. He wondered about the girls. He would have to find his way through all of it.

Nathan’s insistence on managing his private life was annoying. He already sized his mentor up as a person who covered his bases, but this was going too far. He mused at how someone could interfere in something that didn’t exist.

His new job and Nathan’s annoyances would not have been enough to keep him awake. It was something else that kept him piqued, his pulse a little more rapid, his expectations honed. For it, he would tolerate Nathan as overlord. It made the challenges of the coming days seem like stepping stones. It was what made him feel like he was in Guatemala again.

He cared little for the extra money that came with the job of reforming the Math Department. They could cut his pay and he would still accept it. It was a chance for him to be a person that people needed to help them in a worthy goal. It had been so in his Central America years. It would soon be that way again. It would give him something that the priesthood could not.

He knew that he could do the job. His skills had never been in doubt. He saw truth in triangles and parabolas. In truth was happiness. He would gain it for himself and pass it on to any person to whom he could. His priestly vows had been his chains. He had sensed it, but not known it. From the ashes of his doubts God’s wisdom rose up to him like a phoenix. Best of all, James could believe in Him again, on his own terms, now that the salvation of his mission in Bates was delivered.

He drank the last of his glass of whiskey and shuffled back to bed. He thought about pleasuring himself, but decided not to. He needed no further relief; that which he had found for his soul was enough. Contented, he finally fell asleep.

**********

TO BE CONTINUED