Cleese nodded and looked away, somehow understanding. Some men, when everything important in their lives is stripped away, have only the pain and the anger left. Their anguish becomes the one thing they can count on and they cling to it like a life preserver because, in a lot of ways, that was exactly what it was. Cleese didn’t fault them for feeling that way. Everyone walked their path in life and they held the things that worked for them close, the things that nurtured and protected them. Anger and hatred could oftentimes be as reassuring as a warm blanket on a rainy day. However, sometimes that comforting blanket wrapped around them, weighed them down, and dragged them to the depths of despair. Cleese silently hoped Weaver was the type of man who could one day learn to let go.
'It’s one of the main reasons why I appreciate the work you do,' Weaver continued. 'I mean, you cut a swath through those fuckers and nothing seems to affect you,' Weaver laughed and slapped Cleese on the thigh. 'You’re a baddass, Son, and you’re able to do the very thing I wish I could have…'
'And that is?'
Weaver looked away, up toward the piece of sky where he liked to think the love of his life waited for him to one day return to her.
'Save my Dora, I guess.'
Ridgeway Elementary
The afternoon bell rang out across the crowded playground, signaling the end of the lunch recess period. The sharp, shrill sound made many of the children playing there jump in their shoes. Some of the more excitable girls squealed in surprise and then immediately cupped their hands over their mouths as if trying to catch their voices before they could be heard. Balls bounced and swings swung, but all that soon came to a stuttering stop once the Yard Duty Teachers blew their whistles and gently herded the kids toward the main building. There were a few stragglers— that was to be expected with children of this age—but the women soon had the mass of waving arms and runny noses all heading in the right direction.
Chikara Pressfield walked toward the red brick facade of Ridgeway Elementary School, stopping every now and then to gather up an abandoned jump rope or orphaned Four Square Ball. She tried to soak up as much of the midday sun as she could since it would be her last chance of the day to feel the warming rays of the sun on her skin. The rest of the afternoon would be spent in her classroom, her time monopolized by what she’d come to think of as 'her kids.'
She’d been teaching at Ridgeway for most of the school term, having received her teacher’s certificate the prior year, and she’d come to really enjoy her new vocation. In college, she’d ridden an athletic scholarship for all it was worth and at one time even thought herself destined for the pro tennis circuit. She had a backhand that was— or rather, had been—pretty devastating, if she did say so herself. But after a car wreck had more or less shattered the elbow of her left arm, those dreams had been set aside. After months of rehab and a heart full of tears, she’d found that she’d been unable—and unwilling it would seem—to invest the kind of energy it took to make a full recovery. Now, incapable of competing on a professional stage, teaching became the best of a set of limited options.
At the large double front doors of the school, she dropped off the playthings in the bins kept by the entrance to the playground and—as she was the last one in—turned to shut the doors behind her. The midday sun had just reached its epoch and was beginning its long slow slide toward the horizon. Birds could be heard chirping in the trees that lined the soccer field, their song joyful and carefree. Momentarily, she envied them.
As she pulled the door closed, through the glass she noticed a man standing far across the playground outside of the fence which encircled the perimeter of the school. She continued to watch him for a minute or so as she absentmindedly straightened her long black hair with her fingers. The door’s lock clicked into place and a chill abruptly rippled down her back. Shaking it off, she turned and headed down the hallway to the stairs and up to the second floor where her small class waited at the end of the hall.
As usual, her classroom was in a total uproar. The children, still bristling with excitement from the play yard, were jostling one another and bouncing around the room like pinballs. She opened the door, which was flanked on either side by large bulletin boards, and stepped into the room. The class was in the midst of learning the countries of the world and each continent was represented on the corkboard by assorted maps and pages carefully cut from
Along the far left side of the room, a whiteboard stretched from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. Across the top was taped a banner which read 'Word Wall.' Underneath it were all of the letters of the alphabet arranged in orderly rows. Slips of paper with handwritten words on them were taped beneath each corresponding letter.
At the head of the class to her immediate right, a large chalkboard was mounted, the day’s lesson plan written in Chikara’s swirling scrawl. She approached her desk as the door closed with a hiss behind her, and the class immediately began to settle down.
'Hello, Miss Pressfield,' the children called to her in a sing-song tone as she took her position before them. Quietly, but firmly, she redirected the children’s energies back to their studies.
'Ok, settle down now, boys and girls,' she said, smiling warmly. This being the first real class of her teaching career, she couldn’t help but love them all dearly. Despite her best efforts to conceal how she felt, her affection for them was readily apparent. 'Can anyone remember what we were talking about before recess?'
A pond of blank faces met her gaze.
'Oh, come on, you guys… we were
Sheepishly, a hand rose at the back of the room. The boy had a crew cut and a soft, round face. He was new to the class, having just arrived from St. Louis a month or so ago. From what she’d seen, the kid was pretty smart.
'Yes, Jeffrey.'
'We were talking about the… Messopotavia and Youfrageous Rivers.'
'Well, sort of.'
The class giggled and hid their faces behind their hands.
'We were talking about the Tigress and Euphrates Rivers in Mesopotamia. What many call the Cradle of Civilization. Good job though…' She cast a playful frown toward the rest of the class. 'No one else remembered even that much.'
The kid’s laughter stuttered to an embarrassed stop. Behind a tapestry of faces, Jeffrey blushed and looked down toward his desk. It seemed that Jeffery, like many of the boys in her class, had a bit of a crush on his teacher.
Chikara considered the whole idea quite cute.
'Does anyone remember anything else from our discussion?'
Before any of the children could answer, the Public Address System crackled overhead. A few thumps later, and Principal Borden’s voice was heard, peppered with static.
'Excuse the interruption, Ladies and Gentlemen, but we have an announcement.'
Chikara held a single finger to her lips as a sign to the children that they should be quiet. As the children had been taught, they dutifully repeated the gesture.
'We have been notified,' he continued, 'that due to some road closures, we’ll be staying after school today until everything is cleared up. Thank you.'
The class collectively groaned and shuffled in their seats.
'Ssshh,' Chikara said and tapped her finger against her lips. The children again mimicked her. As the Principal began talking again—something about parents having been called and 'how everything was ok' and for them 'not to worry'—she walked over to the window and looked out at the schoolyard from over the fire escape that ran up the side of the building. The area was empty. A sudden gentle wind swirled and gently pushed the swings to and fro as if invisible children who occupied them were enjoying a ride.
As her eyes drifted across the slides, carousels and Jungle Gyms, she noticed a small group of people congregating outside of the school fence. Just a few of them stood there, but the sight seemed incongruous with the hour of the day. Parents never started gathering until near the time school let out. The sight of folks waiting out by the fence now just seemed odd. At first, they appeared to be talking to one another, but as she watched them
