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After the Searsport wins, it was all prom planning all the time. Even though Hailey got a sports section front page write-up in the Bangor Daily, as the “Basketball standout turned pitcher,” she was much more interested in her prom plans. She was bringing a senior boy from Vinalhaven, which had Piercehaven boys annoyed and Piercehaven girls jealous.
Emily asked Juniper if she was going to the prom, and Juniper laughed derisively. Emily asked DeAnna the same question, and DeAnna said, “Of course not,” implying that it had been a ridiculous question. When Emily asked Sara, Sara told her the prom was a commercialized misogynistic social construct.
But the rest of the girls had either paired off with boys or were going in all-girl gaggles. Sydney had made the trip to Portland for a gown, which she made clear had cost five hundred dollars, but most of the girls had ordered online, and new gowns arrived each day. Julie, to her credit, unpacked the crate of gowns from the athletic locker, steamed them, and hung them in the office. Anyone who wanted to could try one on and/or take one home. Emily wondered if there was a tuxedo crate somewhere too.
Julie asked Emily to chaperone, and Emily declined in a voice that quivered with panic. But when she told James about the offer, he said, “Aw, let’s do it. It’ll be fun.” Apparently, Julie had asked him too, as the girls’ basketball coach.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so devastating if the State Police had shown up on an ordinary day when the students were their usual grumpy selves. But they showed up on the Wednesday of prom week, when boys were scheming about transportation and booze, and girls were planning hair and makeup. They came into Emily’s seventh period creative writing class, and, after a perfunctory apology for interrupting, ordered Duke Crockett to come with them.
There were four of them, two in suits and two in uniform, as if Duke were some violent ninja whom one cop couldn’t handle. This impressive display of force scared Emily, but not as much as Duke’s response scared her. Duke was never without a wise guy quip, never without a mocking gesture, but in that moment, he looked like a very young child, a child who knew he was in an awful lot of trouble—he looked terrified.
Emily couldn’t imagine why they’d taken Duke, but after several silent shell-shocked seconds, Thomas volunteered a theory: “He must’ve been the one who called in the bomb threat.”
Emily couldn’t believe that and jumped to his defense. “Duke is a peace-flag-waving hippie. He doesn’t even eat meat. He doesn’t make bomb threats.”
But Thomas stood by his theory. “Miss M, but he didn’t actually use bombs. He just made the threats. And I guarantee his mother is loony enough to make him do it. Think about it. What else could they possibly want him for?”
Emily was still in denial. Duke wouldn’t be that dumb. Duke didn’t care enough about the stupid windmills to be that stupid. Did he?
But after the final bell rang, when a sobbing, shaking Sara showed up at her classroom door, eyes raccooned with smudged eyeliner and tears, and fell into her arms, Emily started to believe it. Duke was in serious trouble.
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At lunchtime on Thursday, Hailey came bolting into Emily’s classroom. “They just posted the brackets,” she said breathlessly.
“What?” Emily had been thinking about Duke and had no idea what Hailey was talking about.
“The playoff schedule. It’s online. We’re going to Valley.”
“Oh!” Emily said, finally understanding, and joining in on, her excitement. “Valley? I thought we were in sixth place. Doesn’t that mean we’d play Buckfield?”
“No, the first and second place team get a bye in the first round. So we play third place, which is Valley.”
“I’m surprised they’re in third place. I mean, they were good, but they weren’t great.”
“I know. That’s why I’m excited. We beat them, Coach!”
Emily looked at her. Her giddiness was adorable. “Well, good, let’s beat them again then.”
“Although, of course, it’s not just about winning,” Hailey reminded her.
Emily laughed. “Correct. It’s about having fun and really enjoying another ten-hour bus ride to Valley.”
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After school, Emily stopped into Marget’s Grocery for some frightfully expensive kitty litter. The store was mostly deserted, and she saw Jane Crockett alone in the produce section. Her first instinct was to give her a wide berth, but she overrode that.
“Hi, Mrs. Crockett,” she said, setting her heavy acquisition down at her feet.
Jane looked up at her, but only briefly. “Hi,” she said, giving the avocadoes her full attention.
“I don’t know what the right thing to say in this situation is, but I just wanted you to know that I am very fond of both your children, and I am—”
“You’d be the first teacher,” Jane said.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’d be the first teacher to be fond of my kids.”
“I don’t think that’s true. Your kids are brilliant, well-spoken, and funny. I adore them both.”
Jane looked at her then. “Well, then ... thank you.”
“And I’m just sick over the Duke situation. I’m so sorry. Please let me know if there’s anything I—”
“I didn’t tell him to do it, you know.”
“I know,” Emily said, though she hadn’t until that moment.
“Everyone thinks I did. As if I would put my son in harm’s way like that. I did no such thing.” She leaned forward onto her cart and looked at the ceiling, as if trying to persuade gravity to stop the tears from falling out of her eyes. “Oh sure, I think he did it for me, but I didn’t want it. He was just trying to be an activist like his mama.” One tear escaped and slid down her cheek. She looked at Emily. “So I’m all done anyway.”
Emily didn’t know what she meant, but she nodded, trying to look empathic.
“I’m done with this windmill cause. I can’t win—we can’t win anyway. The deal is already done. They’re saying the windmills will be operational by the end of September. Hard to believe things can change that fast, isn’t it?”
Emily nodded. “Have you heard from Duke? Is he OK?”
“No, he’s terrified. He’s still a little boy, you know, even though he talks big. He’s not even close to OK.”
“Well, like I said, I’d like to help. If there’s a way to write to him, or go visit him, please let me know.”
Jane looked surprised. “OK.”
“OK then. You try to take care.” Emily turned to go.
“My daughter really loves softball.”
Emily turned back toward Jane. “That’s good, because softball really loves her.”
Jane smiled through her tears. “Never saw that coming. We’re not much of a sports family.”
“You don’t have to be,” Emily said.
