In the early days of July, many Pennsylvanians get a glimpse at the dog days of summer sitting on the horizon. Most times they must wait several more weeks for those balmy temperatures to arrive, except for this past week. In Cullton, each day soars into the upper nineties. Combine this sultry weather with the extended sunlight and time tends to slip from thought. And today, time once again holds no bounds.
On a rural Pennsylvania road, a white Jeep Cherokee bounces along with its windows down. The warm evening breeze blows the driver’s long brown hair about the interior. Alone, the driver passes the time singing along with the radio. As the song ends, she glances at the clock on the center console. 7:12 p.m. The day got away from her once, and truth be told, she has no desire to swing by the school. After all, she’ll call it a second home again in a little over a month. But her colleague’s persistence about the book intrigues her. His exact words were, “One of the finest books written in some time.” So, being an English teacher and a reading fanatic, she can’t wait to dig into the pages.
A teacher, yes. Keys to the building, no. Not wanting to waste time with a maybe, the woman heads straight for the school’s maintenance entrance. The custodian’s office has a window ten feet from the door, and there should still be someone working. As the brunette pulls her Jeep into the service driveway of Cullton High School, she reflects on her colleague’s text message.
“I have a meeting with Principal Devon at the school. Afterward, I will be heading to the beach with my girls. A last-minute getaway before Bri leaves for college and we begin another fun-packed school year. I’ll leave the book in your classroom. Can’t wait to hear your insights. Have a great rest of your summer,” the text reads.
In haste to put this side trip behind her, the woman bypasses the empty parking spaces, pulls to the curb, and kills the engine. Several steps across the grass, she spots a hand in the custodian window motioning her toward the door.
At the entrance, she’s met by a stocky, middle-aged man dressed in a blue denim, short-sleeve jumpsuit. “Good evening,” the man says in an enthusiastic voice.
“Hi, Jonathan. How are you this evening?” says the brunette, sliding her sunglasses on top of her thick brown hair.
“Good. Thanks for asking.” A beaming smile lights up the man’s face. “This sure is a popular place here today. What brings you by at this hour?”
“A book was left for me in my classroom. I was hoping I would be able to grab it real quick.”
Jonathan pulls his lips against his teeth as he hums for a moment. “Yeah. I believe the hallway is clear to your room. If you find any security gates locked, come get me. I’ll open them for you.”
“Thank you,” says the woman as she slips through the door and past the man.
“No. Thank you,” says Jonathan under his breath. Glancing over his shoulder, he drinks in the parting view of the woman heading deeper into the school.
The book in question sits on the woman’s desk, and as quick as she dashes in, she darts from the room. Briskly moving down the hall, she hears a faint echo from the opposite direction. But as fast as the voice bounces off the lockers and into her ears, it fades into oblivion. She freezes mid-step, hoping to catch the disturbance once more.
However, the hallway remains quiet. No more muffled shouts. No voices slithering through the corridor.
Curiosity getting the better of her, the woman turns and creeps in the direction of the echo. She sees nothing ahead of her but the school’s vacant eeriness highlighted by the fading sun, her breaths reverberating down the stark hallway her only company. The brunette rounds a corner and picks up the slight murmur of voices. She inches her way through the hall, and with each new step, the voices become louder. Yet, despite being audible, their clarity remains jumbled until she rounds the next corner. As she approaches the closed gymnasium doors, the voices begin to refine themselves. She can make out five distinct voices from where she stands beyond the gymnasium walls, but the echo from inside the gym still distorts them.
She creeps closer to the doors. Now standing with only an inch and a half of compressed wood between her and them, the voices become clearer. One voice becomes recognizable, then two more. She squats on her haunches and peers through the gap between the two old doors.
At first, she sees nothing but a gymnasium floor and a sliver of bleachers. In the blink of an eye, a figure moves into view. As the individual fills the gap in the door, the woman rears her head back in astonishment. Fearing being noticed, she glides away from the opening. What the hell is going on?
Positioned beside the doors but still within earshot, she hears the voices seep out from inside the gym. Another voice breaks into the conversation, and her heart freezes. No. What are you doing here? What are any of you doing here? None of you have any reason to be here. Still refusing to leave, she listens as a fifth voice responds back to the others. Brad?
“I don’t tolerate bullying from the students, and I will not tolerate any of yours,” comes Brad’s voice.
“This is not bullying,” comes another voice. “This is a matter of fact.”
“A matter of fact, what?” says Brad. “If I don’t look the other way, you’re gonna do what?”
Another voice speaks up, this one belonging to the one that froze her heart. “No one said there’s gonna be anything that’s going to happen.”
“If I walk away?” asks Brad. “What you’re doing is wrong. And I don’t care as to why. It’s just plain wrong.”
“Don’t press for any further investigations,” comes another voice. “Don’t press it, or there will be consequences.”
The brunette cups a hand over her mouth as she slinks away from the gymnasium doors. Once around the corner and sure no one has followed her, she flees down the hallway toward the exit. She slows her steps briefly as Jonathan calls from his office, asking if everything is okay.
“Yes,” she shouts. “I remembered I have an appointment, and now I’m running late.” Making haste out of the exit, “thank you” trails off her tongue as the door pulsates closed.