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Emily’s first period class was Freshman English.
She stood outside her classroom, greeting each student as they turned to go into her room, with a smile that she knew must look forced. She knew she had to portray a calm and confident demeanor, so she kept her hands, which were literally shaking, clasped behind her back.
She was as nervous as she’d ever been. She was also thoroughly excited. She’d never in her life been so certain that she was in the right place. Exactly where God wanted her to be.
When the bell rang, she entered the room and gently closed the door behind her. She had arranged the desks in a circle, and so a circle of eyes stared at her expectantly. Fourteen eyes. Seven students. Seven freshmen in the whole school. She slid into one of the empty desks.
“Hi, guys. My name is Miss Morse, and I am thrilled to be your new language arts teacher.”
Only a few snickers.
“So, let’s go around the circle, and each of you please tell me your name and one cool thing about yourself.”
Aiden told her that he loved dirt bikes. That seemed normal enough.
Tyler claimed he couldn’t think of anything to share.
Caleb told her he was a lobsterman. Not “my dad is a lobsterman” but “I am a lobsterman.”
Victoria told her she was on the basketball team.
“Oh, wow! So you must be excited to finally play on the high school team!”
Victoria looked at her as if she were the stupidest person on the island.
“We can play high school sports in seventh grade here,” Caleb said.
“Ah! Because we’re so small?”
“We?” Tyler repeated sarcastically.
“Shut up, Tyler,” Caleb said. “Yes, because we’re small. We’re like the second smallest high school in the state, not counting the Christian ones that have like ten kids.”
Every kid laughed.
“OK, then, moving on ...” Emily looked at the next student. “What’s your name?”
The get-to-know-you name game and going over the syllabus ate up the entire forty minutes of each class. By her prep period, Emily was exhausted. She closed her classroom door and fell into her chair. The door immediately opened behind her, and Kyle entered.
“How’s it going?”
“You have a prep period right now too?”
“Nah, I’ve got kids in my room. I just ducked out to check on you. Everything OK?”
“Everything’s good, I think. I mean, really good. Kids have been great.”
“So, you haven’t asked them to do anything yet?”
She smiled. “Right. I have not.”
“OK then. Enjoy your downtime.” He vanished, and she caught herself looking at his bottom as he left. This made her wonder what Bible-dashboard-guy was doing. He didn’t work at the high school. Was he a lobsterman? What else did men do for work around here? Then she realized, with regret, that she didn’t even know if he lived on the island. He could have been just visiting. What a tragedy that would be.
Her fifth period prep, which flew by, was followed by lunch, and she had lunch duty. Much to her delight, so did Kyle. She found him leaning against a wall with a half-eaten protein bar and a bottle of water.
She tried to look confident, for both the kids’ and Kyle’s benefit, as she strode across the gym to stand beside him. “Oh keeper of all island knowledge,” she began, and much to her satisfaction, his eyes lit up, “can you tell me why our gym has a tiled floor?”
“Or do you mean why our cafeteria has basketball hoops?”
She nodded. “Or that, yes.” She leaned back against the red wall pads and tried to look cool.
“No idea. It’s always been like this. I didn’t even know it was strange until I graduated. I mean, I never once gave it an ounce of thought, but I remember thinking that the Civic Center was fancy because it had hardwood floors.
“Civic Center?”
“Yeah, in Augusta, where they play the tournament games. Just because I didn’t play basketball doesn’t mean I didn’t go to the tournament games. The whole island goes to those. It would be downright freaky to stay here during tourney time. You’d be the only one on the island.”
“I doubt they empty out the nursing homes?”
He looked at her.
“What? We do have a nursing home, don’t we?”
“Yes, but just one. You said, homes, as in plural. We don’t have that many old people. And most of them do go to Augusta.”
“What else don’t we have?”
“Excuse me for a second.”
Emily watched him walk to a table full of kids and then say a few words. One of the kids removed his earbuds, while the other kids laughed. Kyle returned to his spot along the wall.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked.
“I ate during my prep.”
“Good thinking. So, we have lots of stuff. We’ve got a library, a grocery store, and a post office. We have a health clinic, with one doctor. We don’t have a pharmacy, but they do have some drugs right there at the clinic. We’ve got a veterinarian too—”
“Any animal shelter?” she interrupted.
He shook his head. “Why? You looking to get rid of someone?”
She laughed. “No. Go on.”
“So we’ve got a bar that serves food, a bar that doesn’t serve food, and a restaurant that doesn’t serve booze. We don’t have a movie theater, bookstore, bowling alley, or Walmart.”
“Do you have a church?”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “Yep. We’ve got one of those. Why, you’re not a Bible thumper are you?”
Well, that answers one question.
“Only one church? On the whole island?”
He nodded, as he pointed to a milk carton someone had dropped.
“What kind of church is it?”
“I don’t know. Protestant, I think.”
The boy stooped to retrieve the milk carton and threw it away.
“Wow, they kind of obey you.”
“Not really. It’s only the first day.”
