I love to think of her spontaneously combusting.
Only then do I speak. “But Martha, this is not anunexcused absence.”
There is momentary silence. “But why ever not, Mrs.Worthing? Lauren.”
I try not to smile. “Because I’ve been called for juryduty!” It’s the first time I’ve been able to admit this with actual enthusiasm.
“Oh!” Her tone changes immediately. The American flag inthe left corner of the classroom seems to wave at me. I imagine that afastidious, rule-loving person like her is all about public service to one’scountry. She leans back in my chair, pleasant now, good cop and bad cop allwrapped up in one suburban middle school principal. “I didn’t realize.”
Milking it for all it’s worth, I smile coldly and say,“No, it seems you did not.” Ha, ha, take that! Ka-pow! Right backatcha!
I stand, willing this to be over. Maybe I can make it downto Kat’s classroom after all.
Martha shoots me a look. “We’re not finished here, Mrs.Worthing. Lauren.”
Immediately, I sit. Heel, good doggie. I return tostaring at the tiny pulsating blue vein next to her eye.
“As I mentioned to you in our last meeting, you are, ingeneral, a disappointment to me.”
This registers in my stomach before it hits my brain. Ilean forward just enough to cover my belly from any more blows.
“Have you nothing to say to that?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Typical,” she responds, clearly offended.
“Typical what?” I ask. Blonde? English teacher? Frazzledmother?
Actually, now that I’ve asked it, I’m not sure I want tohear her answer. I just want to get out of this classroom, much like Martinmust have felt a few minutes ago under my gaze.
“Mrs.…Lauren,” she begins, tapping my hot-pink highlighteragainst the linoleum desktop. “You need to be clear when you are callingfor a substitute. You had me quite distraught for nothing! I wasted seventeen minutesof time on you this morning, all because of your lack of precision. Plus,do you think I haven’t noticed how your performance has dropped off in recentmonths? You arrive just moments before homeroom and leave just moments afterdismissal. I notice. I see. You refuse to serve on the committee forchildren with—what’s it called…”
“Differentiated Learning?”
“No, no that one…”
“Allergies and Asthma?”
“No, no, no…”
“Same-Sex Parenting?”
“We decided against that committee…”
Although, now that I’m mentioning them, I realize how manyopportunities I have turned down this year.
And then she remembers. “Homework Aversion Disorder!”
“That’s a thing?”
“Yes, and you reneged at the last moment! You never signedthe paperwork. The committee folded because of your irresponsibility.”
“That wasn’t me!” I say, truly concerned. “I’ve never evenheard of such a committee.”
“You gave me a verbal commitment, Mrs. Lauren. And thenyou missed the meeting and never filed the forms.”
Wouldn’t I remember giving her such a promise?
It’s gaslighting, I’m telling you. She makes me think thatI’m crazy, remaining calm as I come undone.
“That’s not true—” I begin, but she silences me with herpalm.
“The point is…” Here she stands, stretching her long torsoacross my desk to get as close to me as she possibly can. “I. Am. Watching.You.”
“O…kay,” I say. I’ve never in my life hit someone, butright now, I wonder what it would feel like if my fist made contact with heraquiline nose. Better to do that than to burst into tears.
“Which is why I’ve decided to be your substituteteacher for the day.” Martha tilts her head upward, the steadiness of her chinchallenging me to disagree.
“Excellent,” I choke out. “Let me just grab a few thingsbefore I go.”
I quickly take the hastily written lesson plan and stickit inside a folder of essays that I clutch to my chest. Then I speed walk myway the hell out of there.
Martha’s so confident, I’m sure she’ll think of abrilliant assignment with which to fill the time.
In fact, wouldn’t it be fun to get placed on a really longcourt case just to spite her? Okay, fine. I’ll take that back. I’m desperate,but I’m not delusional.
I call Kat’s classroom from my cell phone as I’m gettinginto my car. I can instantly tell that her kindergarteners are within earshot.
“Where the truck are you?” She never says hello like anormal person. “You bailed on coffee talk time.”
“You cannot even imagine my morning,” I say. “Lookout your window and wave. I’m in the VP’s spot.”
Five seconds later, a wrist loaded up with silver banglesemerges from a window on the second floor. Instead of waving, she points hermiddle finger at me.
When she’s back on the line, I say, “Classy.”
“Why are you getting here so late?” Kat asks.
“Nah, Kitty-Kat, I’m just leaving.” I put her onspeakerphone and explain as I drive through the suburban, tree-lined streets ofHadley and into the city of Alden, where the county courthouse is located. “Andthe kicker is, Martha’s my sub.”
“Love it!” She laughs. “I’m gonna have my students callover there all day and keep hanging up when she answers.”
“Kat,” I say. “I thought we talked about prank calls.”
“What? Someone has to teach these vital lessons tothe younger generation. In the age of the Internet, phony phone calls are goingto get lost, unless, of course, I work my tass off to keep the ancient artalive.”
“Whatever,” I say. “At least you’ll be having funtoday.”
“Whaddaya mean? Jury duty’s the best!” There is a muffledsound on the line, and then I hear Kat talking to a student. “Lexie, stoppinching Jane or else I’m going to have to pinch you so you know what it feelslike and, therefore, develop empathy.”
“Kat,” I chastise.
“Empathy is this year’s district imperative,” sheexplains, back on the line.
“Not what the Hadley School Board meant.”
“Live it up today, Lauren. I’m telling you, JD is thebomb. I went over to the courthouse last month to
