How the hell did this man become a principal and survive a high school?
“Ms. Ashers, Dr. Spence, and associate?” He reaches for our hands before we sit down, but he gives Keola a puzzling look. It looks like he is trying to solve a mathematical problem that he can’t answer.
Keola goes to grip his hand and shake it, “Former detective Johnson.” He introduces himself, I could see the principal’s hand turning blue from Keola’s grip. He laughs nervously and yanks back his hand.
His meek smile and short laughter told me that Keola probably scared the crap out of him. “Yes, well. I appreciate everyone coming down today regarding the current situation,” he takes his seat and we follow suit, except Keola who is standing tall with his arms crossed. “We have a student that is suspected to be holding drugs in his possession.”
The principal's voice is small, quiet. He avoids eye contact, but Spence straightens up in his seat. “How were they found?” Spence asks.
I lean forward waiting for an answer. The principal clears his throat, “Well, we had someone send an email stating that they saw an exchange before school hours. Which prompted us for a search.” He hands over a printed out email with a photo, it is too blurry to make out if it was a student. Although this student is not my own, he is one of Marcus’s friends. This is beginning to not be a bright path.
I hand the email over to Keola, bypassing Spence. Keola scans it, cocking an eyebrow at it, “I assume you called the resource officer and the local precinct?” Keola questions him. Maybe it wasn’t a horrible idea to bring him along.
“We have taken the necessary steps for this type of situation. This isn’t the first time,” the principal continues.
“Are charges being pressed?” Keola continues to ask. The principal sits there stunned, not expecting to be asked that question. He starts to mumble and stutter his words, finally to say, “Due to the student being a minor, we are not at liberty to say.”
Keola just grunts, disappointingly. He must know something that I don’t.
“This has become more of a scare within our school district,” Spence prompts. “We have to think of the other students’ safety, the teachers, the neighborhood. I’m advising the board to put some measures on the table.”
More like he wants to dictate what happens and keep to his own agenda. My chest starts to heave with heavier breath. “I understand this is a problem and I think we are doing our very best with the resources and help we have,” I start to say. I’m interrupted by Spence, holding his hand up to stop me. “I don’t think you do. Your organization only helps with a certain amount of students in our district, we are looking at a grander scheme.”
I turn towards him, I grin, baring my teeth, “Dr. Spence, with the little respect I have with you, we don’t have to be enemies, we have a common ground here.” I try to be professional at the very least.
“Unfortunately Ms. Ashers, it seems to have started with your student and has expanded since then. If anything, focus on your organization and we’ll worry about the school system,” he scuffs at me.
I go to move, and Keola’s hand rests on my shoulder. “Dr. Spence. I’ll remind you again that the way you are speaking to Ms. Ashers is not acceptable,” I turn to see him, he glares at Spence, challenging him to make a move or say something. I know Keola is carrying, but he wouldn’t do something reckless.
“Sir,” he stands up, defending himself, “You weren’t needed here, if anything you do not scare me. I highly doubt you’re a former detective, no detective would look like…” He stops, as Keola takes a step forward. “Finish that statement, I dare you.”
The principal shrinks in his seat, having troubles to speak up or break up the situation. The two men are face to face, practically inches from each other. I whip out of the chair and step in between them, breaking them apart.
“Detective Johnson,” I try to keep up the charade, “I think it’s time to leave.” I place my hands on his chest, trying to break his focus off of Spence. His eyes narrow.
“Keola,” I whisper, softly, gently, as if I am the only one that could call him. Like an echo in his mind. I trail down my hand along his side, reaching for his hand, attempting to drag him out of the room. The man is a solid force, I use all my strength to get him out of the way.
I bid the other two men a good rest of the day and drag Keola back to the Bronco. He doesn’t get in the truck, he stands there, anger coursing through his veins. I may not know what he’s thinking but I know what anger and uncontrollable thoughts can do to a person.
Just as he did with me, I cup my hands around his face, yanking his head towards me. “Keola, forget Spence. He’s a jackass hiding behind an outdated power suit. I don’t know a lot about you, but I can tell one thing, you protect those that need protecting. I know you can be a good man,” I said to him. He takes some deep breaths. “We'll figure something out,” I tell him.
“I may not be a good man like you think. Some roads have been taken that weren’t intended to,” He says roughly, he lays his hands over mine and brushes them off. He shuts down all talk.
Break down a wall. You made me do it.
He walks over to the passenger side and opens the door. I’ll get him to talk, the fucker still owes from the library. We head back to the foundation, we have an art session with the kids and I have an idea, more like I have a job for him.
As Keola and I enter the foundation, he just nods his head and leaves me. A sudden ache hits. My office door is open, as someone greets me, “Teresa,” I say as I enter my office.
“Lottie. I think we need to have a discussion,” she says sitting on the couch, her legs crossed and hands folded in her lap.
My shoulders slump, I had a feeling that this would happen. “Yes ma’am.”
She cringes, “Lord, no. Please don’t call me that,” she continues, “I can see that things have become more.. harmful. I don’t think that’s the right word.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Her eyes soften, “Back down from the wild goose chase. I know you’re worried.”
