Chapter 4

word count  778

The teacher’s lounge screamed neglect with soiled coffee cups and overflowing butt trays everywhere the eye chose to look. They weren’t supposed to smoke in the main section, but the partitioned smoker’s area had bled over into the middle room despite all attempts to contain it in its designated area no bigger than a closet. At this moment, the coffeemaker emitted a burned odor indicating the last patron had not only refused to start a new pot, but didn’t have the decency to shut it off before the empty pot burned.

Mr. Roberts, Elliot’s homeroom teacher, sat alone at the big round table in the middle of the room. A neglected cigarette dangled in his fingers, the ash growing longer and longer until it finally fell on the table in a silent avalanche. His coffee has gotten cold in the cup, never drunk, just placed there and abandoned. A voice over his shoulder made the teacher jump in surprise.

“Chuck, aren’t you due back for your next class?” It was vice principal Leland. He stood behind Roberts, arms folded across his chest. The man tried to look like a disciplinarian, but no one ever bought it.

“Leland, I’m glad you are here. Could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, Chuck.” Leland pulled out a chair across from the other man and sat, folding his hands on table.

“I’m a little worried about that Taggart kid. Does he seem all right to you?” Charles Roberts finally took a sip from the neglected coffee, grimacing when he tasted the cold brew.

“As a matter of fact, I found some bullies harassing him in the restroom today. They were making fun of him. I believe he was deliberately hiding out in a stall.” Leland said.

“The kid is aloof. He doesn’t appear to have any friends; and like you said, he gets bullied all the time. I sensed an anger in him today that troubles me.”

“What do you mean?” Leland leaned closer, his interest piqued.

“Well, he was late for class, and when I reprimanded him he was flippant with me. I pressed it and when he answered, he seemed like the lid was ready to blow off.”

“That boy? His lid ready to blow? I don’t think so, Charles. I’ve never seen any sign of anger in him.” Leland brushed a speck of lint off his sleeve, his mind wandering on to other things.

“That’s my point, Leland. He was uncharacteristically angry.”

“Well, it’s not like we’re allowed to make accusations about our students. You know how parents are--they claim we’re picking on their children and tell us to leave them alone or lose our jobs.” Leland slid out the chair and got up.

“I’m just wondering if anyone cares about the kid. I hope someone at home is paying attention.” Roberts tried the coffee again and spit it back in the cup as soon as it hit his tongue. “Maybe I should call in his parents for a meeting.”

“I don’t recommend it. He hasn’t done anything wrong. I wouldn’t worry about it...Better get to your class.” That stated, Leland fled the room with uncharacteristic speed.

That’s the problem. I can’t stop worrying about it.


Later, Roberts went to the office and pulled Elliot’s file, extracting the home phone number. He felt like a criminal getting the information. Leland had told him to let it go, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. His thoughts flashed to his own brother, Owen. If those many years ago, he had only told his parents about the changes in Owen he had seen. If only he had warned them, told someone, maybe it all would not have happened...

He punched the number in his cell phone and waited. It rang six or seven times before someone answered.

“Hello!”

“Yes, I’m calling about Elliot Taggart. I’m his homeroom teacher at school. Mr. Roberts is my name.”

“You’re calling about Elliot? Oh my Gawd! Is something wrong with my kid?”

“Nothing urgent. But I’ve been concerned about him. He seems a bit angry lately. I thought you might want to know. Is there anything going on that might be provoking him?”

“What? Provoking him? Our home is none of your business! Are you saying I don’t know how to raise my kid? What are you calling here like this for?”

“Mrs. Taggart, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not Mrs. Taggart. Elli’s new stepfather hasn’t adopted him yet. I’m Mrs. Hunt. Not that it is any of your damned business.”

The phone went dead.

 I should have listened to Leland. Mr. Roberts shrugged his shoulders and went to his next class.