Chapter Thirty-Three

Liza sat in Nick’s classroom, taking notes at the speed of light. The English team had scheduled a unit on rhetoric. Nick didn’t have a problem with the exercise, but he handled it with a couple of speeches, Sojourner Truth’s “Ain’t I a Woman” and Lou Gehrig’s “Farewell to Baseball,” something his students might actually take some interest in, not the dry worksheets the district assigned.

After school, he had a note in his staff mailbox:

Mr. Foster: You were off the curriculum schedule again. You are on notice. No more departures from school policies will be tolerated.

L. Grambling

The week went downhill from there. Friday morning, as he taught his fourth period he heard a voice coming from the stairwell outside his classroom. He thought it was her voice, though he’d rarely heard Sierra speak above a whisper. And her voice was clearly raised.

There had been a buzz of conversation a minute before, but his class hushed as all eyes turned to him, alive to his sense of alarm as he looked out the door. Raised voices in the hallway weren’t unusual during the middle of the day when a half dozen lunch periods followed each other. To an observer who knew nothing of Sierra, the voice in the stairwell wouldn’t signal any distress. But he did know her.

Nick set his book on the desk and turned to the door. “Javier,” he said, “you’re in charge until I get back.”

And for the first time in his career, he walked out of a class in session.

He sprinted to the open double doors and swung down the stairs. It only took seconds to piece the situation together. Emilio rested his hands against the bricks, keeping Sierra trapped inside the wall of his arms.

She blocked her face. “Get off me. I’m not interested! Not even a little bit.”

Nick was impressed by Sierra’s confidence, but the words didn’t faze Emilio. The boy’s face flushed with anger. He flexed his arms. “Oh, you’ll be interested in what I got to give, sweetheart. And some day, when you’re alone, I’m going to give it to you.”

Rage flashed through Nick, but he made himself stand still until somewhere deep inside he found a measured voice. “I don’t think so, Emilio.”

Nick walked down the stairs at a deliberate pace. If he counted his steps, he might keep himself from breaking every bone in the boy’s body. “The only thing you’re going to give Sierra is ten feet of breathing room.”

The fury in Emilio’s face was something else. He pulled back, but his hands circled Sierra’s arms. Nick stepped behind him and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. He kept his voice deadly calm. “I’m telling you once, Emilio. Let go. Get to class. I don’t want you within shouting distance of Sierra Wright again.”

The friendly Emilio from seventh period was gone. He seemed to be working on adrenaline. He threw off Nick’s hands and turned to face Nick. “You and me, Mr. F. I’ll take you any day.”

“I’m not looking for a fight, Emilio. But I’ve got to tell you, you’re this close to facing assault charges.”

“Whatever!” Emilio strutted up the stairs and out the door on the second floor.

As the door clanged shut, Sierra slid to a sitting position on the stairs. Nick came to her in cautious steps, afraid of startling her. He sat beside her. “Sierra?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Foster.” Her words were silky quiet, and small tremors worked through her.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the red handprints on her arms. He spoke softly to erase the anger coursing through him. “I’m proud of you. You stood up for yourself.”

She looked as if she might cry, but he had to say what came next. “Sierra, what Emilio said … he’s a real danger to you. And not just at school. I need to report it to the principal’s office. And to the police.”

She shook her head with a vengeance, squeezing her eyes shut. “They’ll make me come in. They’ll ask me all kinds of questions.”

Nick inched a fraction closer. “It’s the law. And it’s for your protection. Emilio could make things much worse for you than any set of questions.”

She looked up to the doors. “Please, Mr. Foster.”

“I’ll be there at your side. But I have to report it.”

“Not today. Please.” Her voice was so small, so broken.

He thought about Sierra’s haircut, her pitiful schoolwork, how she’d alienated herself from April, from him. He imagined her trembling and crying while being questioned, Liza hounding her, a roomful of other administrators behind her. Knowing Liza, she would probably make Sierra face Emilio again.

How could he refuse her this one request? He drummed his fingers on his knees. She could prepare herself over the weekend. And on Monday, she would have April by her side.

“Okay. Provided I let your mom know, and if she can’t give you a ride home today, I do. But on Monday morning, before school starts, we’ll need to talk to someone—the principal or the campus police.”

She hiccupped and nodded her agreement.

Come Monday, he’d have to pay for the time-lapse. Liza would be furious. But if the weekend would give Sierra time to process the coming inquisition, it would be worth it.

 

He texted April as soon as the bell rang, but just as he pressed Send, his room phone rang. The secretary told him to report to the office during his conference period.

When he got there, Liza sat perched on the corner of her desk. Officer Wilkins sat in a chair and Veronica, the sophomore counselor, sat in a second. Witnesses? Not a good sign.

“Take a seat, Mr. Foster.” Liza pointed him to the remaining chair.

Nick seated himself, looking at the faces in the room for a clue of what this was about.

“I’ll get right to the point,” Liza said. “A student reported that you left your fourth-period class unsupervised for almost fifteen minutes.”

“That’s correct.”

Liza gave a dramatic pause, looking from Veronica to Wilkins as if to verify the absurdity of his nonanswer. “Would you like to elaborate?”

He hadn’t promised Sierra, but they had an agreement. “There was an incident in the stairwell that needed my attention.”

“For fifteen minutes?”

Nick nodded.

“Did it occur to you to phone for help?”

No, it had not occurred to him. Not at first. He’d heard Sierra’s voice and knew he had to get to her. And then later he hadn’t wanted to spill Sierra’s story. “It wasn’t possible at the time.”

She tapped her fingernails on the desk, as if considering, though Nick knew better. “I don’t believe you referred any students to the office. What kind of incident was this exactly?”

She’d find out Monday it was a verbal threat, sexual harassment, probably assault, and he hadn’t reported it. But what could he say now without betraying Sierra? She had enough on her thin shoulders. “A couple of students had a conflict. They needed a few minutes of coaching.”

“Who were the students, Mr. Foster?”

He looked out the window. A bank of clouds drifted across the sky, dimming the light. This wasn’t going to get any better. “I’m sorry. I’m not at liberty to say.”

She laughed, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “You’re not helping your case, Mr. Foster. Leaving a class of thirty-eight students unattended for fifteen minutes is serious business.”

Nick looked at Veronica, who frowned. Wilkins made big eyes at him, urging him to get his act together.

“Mr. Foster, I’m going to leave the room for a few moments. When I return, I expect details about the ‘coaching session’ this morning.” She slid off the desk and tapped her way out.

Nick stood at the window, looking out at the staff parking lot, as Veronica and Wilkins kept silent. Was there some way out of this he was missing? There was only one right thing to do. Sierra was ready to crack. He’d told her he’d give her the weekend before reporting Emilio’s threat, and he would.

A memory came back to him. His mom shaking her head at Nick, who, at fourteen, refused to give in on some scuffle at school that landed him a week of detentions. He’d felt sure it was a matter of right and wrong, though he couldn’t remember what it had been about now. “Nicolae,” his mother had said, “it is a grace to give in. Must you always be so stubborn?”

Liza returned with his file in her hand. She flipped through its pink notes. “I’m asking you one last time, Mr. Foster. Explain your absence from class today.”

The file, the pink notes. He knew what they spelled. Quietly, he said, “I’ve explained all I can.”

He could ask Liza to wait until Monday. But it would be pointless. Today Liza had him on the carpet for leaving his class. On Monday, he’d be in trouble for failing to report an act of violence in a timely manner.

She laid the folder down on her desk and turned to face him. “You give me no choice, Mr. Foster. I’ve given you repeated warnings. You’re suspended until further notice.”

The word suspension knocked into him. He’d seen it coming. He’d weighed his answers with it in mind. Still, he felt as if some vital thing had been kicked out of him.

He looked to Wilkins and Veronica, expecting at least a word in his defense. They knew him. They knew his character and his ability to bring kids up a level or two. But their faces only registered bewilderment.

“You have the rest of the period to gather your personal effects and leave your classroom. Officer Wilkins will accompany you.”

Gather your personal effects. Leave your classroom. The words registered at some primitive level, but they sounded too much like a faraway echo to be real.

His classroom felt miles away as he walked with Wilkins. The bell had rung during their meeting, and his sixth period sat at their desks, pretending to write out review questions from the textbook under the lazy eye of the substitute.

Nick hesitated, trying to think what he might say to his kids. He couldn’t think of a thing that wouldn’t make the situation worse. It was evident Wilkins was Nick’s police escort; as if Nick were a criminal, he stood at attention in the doorway. One last send-off from Liza.

His students stared as he pulled his briefcase out of the closet. As if Nick didn’t feel like he’d been punched in the gut, he straightened to his full height and made eye contact with his kids—Jazzy and Selena, David and Cesar—all the way through the classroom. He gave the class a firm nod, then he turned, and for the second time in his career, walked out on a class in session.