Page 48 of The Teacher

“And how is it with Mr. Deep?” Mr. Brown asks.

The question throws me. I open and close my mouth like a goldfish.

“Skip - Mr. Deep? In what way?”

Before Mr. Brown can answer, Miss Tweed interrupts.

“Something is not going right with Mr. Deep,” she asserts. “Mr. Deep has not invested in the school yet or has made any indication that he’s going to buy shares in this place. I’m getting worried, Miss Finn, especially because it seems like Mr. Deep seems satisfied with everything else in the school. Everything except for you, Sandy.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, indignant. Miss Tweed continues like I haven’t spoken.

“I really do hope that you are not going to be the one thing that holds back the school from Mr. Deep’s potential large investment.”

“I don’t believe this,” I reply. “I’m not doing anything to stop Mr. Deep.”

“You sure?” Miss Tweed asks.

Tears come to my eyes. What is it with this woman and her ability to always make me come to the verge of crying? She’s a horrible person. A terrible person. “I just want to teach my class,” I say. “I just want to see them do well at their exams. I just want them to develop a love of Shakespeare and English.”

It’s true.

It’s all I care about. My students falling in love with Shakespeare and words and poetry and the English language. That’s all that matters here, not some kind of weird school politics with Miss Tweed and fundraisers and money. I’m here for the pure love of teaching.

I turn my attention to Mr. Brown. The nervous man isn’t saying anything, he’s completely in thrall to Miss Tweed. She’s the one holding all the power inside the school, even though she’s just another teacher like me. He’s weak. He lets her ride all over him.

“I’ve got my eye on you, Miss Finn,” Miss Tweed says. Her face narrows into a scowl.

She hates me.

She wants me gone, out of the school, and she’s going to use Skipper as an excuse to do so.

I can’t believe this.

“If Mr. Deep doesn’t invest,” Mr. Brown says. “And your students don’t do well in the exams, then I’m afraid we’ll have to look at your performance.”

“What do you mean?”

Miss Tweed nods. “It means,” she says. “That you’re going to have to work extra hard to not lose your job, okay?”

16

SANDY

I close the door to Mr. Brown’s office and nearly break down in the middle of the school hallway in floods of tears.

How dare Miss Tweed insinuate that I’m holding the school back?

Every day she seems to insult my integrity, my teaching ability, my passion for my students and my school. Every single day she brings me down with her directed attacks. And now, after our little meeting in the principal’s office, I can see she’s got Mr. Brown on her side; the principal fully believes her and her lies about me.

It’s hopeless to resist.

I love this school. I love my students. I love teaching.

I can’t get fired.

I wipe my face and start walking with my shoulders back. I’m not going to cry in school again, especially not in its hallways. Not where I can be seen.

The place is empty. There’s silence. The students have gone home. There are only the janitors about.