Matt & Zoe (32 page)

I glanced out the window. The sky is pink, the sun barely up. “I know. I like to.” She opens the door and walks out front, slamming it behind her.

I sigh, then open the door myself and step out onto the porch. She’s already halfway to the end of the driveway. I stand in the porch and watch her. I don’t know how much damage the break with Matt has done, but I do know that Jasmine was already too hurt to begin with.

As the bus arrives, I shout, “Have a great day Jasmine. I love you!” I wave.

She doesn’t reply or look at me as she climbs up the steps of the bus. I stay there on the porch for another minute or two, then head inside to get my keys and books and head to school. Before I go, I gulp down the last few swallows of coffee and put the cup in the sink.

Before I get in the car I double check that the gates to the pasture are securely closed. Paul has agreed to check in on my horses through the day while I’m in class. In return, I’m letting him use our lower pasture for his horses. He’s been needing the space because of his expansion, and I need the help because I can’t go to school and take care of the horses at the same time.

A few minutes later I’m headed out of South Hadley and over the notch, a two-lane road through the woods and over a mountain headed to Amherst. School has been going better, except for calculus. Even that was better until this week, but I’m certain I blew the test on Wednesday. It’s been a week since I saw Matt leave his apartment with that woman, six days since I broke up with him over the phone and blocked any communications from him.

I haven’t cried.

Well, except when I was drunk. To be clear, I suppose I could cry. I allowed myself to let down all of my defenses. I allowed myself to trust him. And like always: when I trust, I get kicked in the teeth. So, I refuse to cry.

He doesn’t deserve my tears.

That said, I was a mess this week. I couldn’t concentrate, I did a half-assed job of studying and when it was time to prepare for my calculus exam I just stared at the book, the numbers and letters swimming around in front of me.

Maybe Nicole is right. I should just join the force, drop out of college, and start earning a living.

For that matter, I bet they’d make me go to college if I was a campus cop anyway—former MPs might get a leg up—but they expect officers to have degrees. And I don’t want to spend my career chasing drunks and writing parking tickets. Nicole tells a lot of great stories, but the common thread of them is that she is a babysitter for 30,000 over-privileged kids.

It’s with that in mind that I decide to buckle down and focus. When I get to the campus, I adjust my frame of mind and head to class.

***

The little room in the student union is more crowded than last time. Terrell is there, along with two other guys I don’t know. One introduces himself as Mark Perez, a former Air Force enlisted man who was detailed temporarily to the Army for two tours in Iraq. The other man is older, in his late 30s.

“Nick Conti,” he says. “Retired Sergeant Major.” We shake hands. I ask Craig if Luke is coming. He frowns, and gives a minute shake of his head. “I don’t think he’s going to be here. He’s not been to class in a week.”

Nicole and I meet each other’s eyes. A mix of thoughts run through my head all at once. I’ve got enough problems without taking on someone else’s issues. More than enough problems. On the other hand, I had instinctively warmed to Luke, and his haunted stare left me deeply concerned. I mean—I have nightmares about the war. I freak out sometimes, and find myself feeling weird and disconnected and randomly angry. What I experienced in Iraq wasn’t anything like the trauma he carries around every day. I can’t imagine what goes on inside his head.

“Why don’t we get started,” Craig says. “I think this is going to be everybody.”

Like last time, we go around the room and introduce ourselves. Craig begins the session by prompting us with questions about our experiences in college since returning from the military. I find myself drifting off periodically. Thinking about Jasmine, and how she has begun stammering again; her listless behavior since last Saturday morning.

I think about Matt. I don’t understand how he could live that way. I knew he was secretive about his past, and assumed there was something there that he was ashamed of. But I never expected that he was cheating, when our relationship had barely even begun. I never expected that he was lying to me when he said he had urgent family business. I never expected he was going to break my heart or Jasmine’s.

I find myself thinking about Luke Osmond.
109 reasons
, he had said.

How do you heal from
that
? I couldn’t even imagine the struggle and pain he must go through. It made my problems with Matt feel trivial. I remember Nicole saying that she had seen Luke panhandling in front of the Starbucks in Amherst. I have a little bit of time after class before I have to head back home. I decide to go see if he’s there.

Are you going to explain? (Matt)

I get back to South Hadley at 10:35 in the morning, driving Messalina’s car. Too much time to stand around waiting at the superintendent’s office, but not enough time to go check on Zoe or take care of anything else. So I park the car near the town hall, and walk up the street to
The Egg and I
, a small diner just a couple of blocks away. I grab a used newspaper off a small stack near the door, sit down and order a cup of coffee. While I wait I scan the headlines.

It’s the local weekly, and there’s not a whole lot of excitement in there. Coverage of the high school games, meetings of the South Hadley Falls Association which is trying to rejuvenate the area, other similar stories. On the editorial page, however, it’s a different story. A half page editorial covers the recently ended strike. I scan through it and I’m shocked by the hostility of it. I look back to the byline—Lauren Blakely. I should have realized. Now I read the editorial more carefully. She points out, truthfully, that the strike itself was illegal. Most of the rest of the first half is drivel, but when I get to the next-to-last paragraph, my mouth sets in anger. I’m mentioned there, described as a union organizer who was recently suspended for incompetence.

Anger is not the word to describe my response.

I’m still steaming over the editorial when I walk into the town hall at 11 am . Peggy Young is standing in the lobby and gives me a warm smile when I step inside.

“Hello, Matt.” Her smile fades almost instantly. “What’s wrong? Oh, wait. You’ve been out of town, haven’t you? You must have just seen the pleasant editorial.”

“I’m going to sue Lauren Blakely.”

She shakes her head. “There’s no need for that. We’re going to walk out today with everything we want.”

“I don’t see how you can say that with such confidence.”

She gives me a mysterious smile. “That’s because you aren’t from South Hadley. I’m guessing you’ve never lived any length of time in a small town.”

I shrug. “I’ve never lived for a long time anyplace.”

“What you need to understand, Matt, is that we all know each other’s secrets. Some of us… even know yours.” She taps her fingers on her forehead as she says the words, then she starts up the stairs.

She can’t possibly mean what it sounds like she means.

I stand staring after her dumbly, until she calls down from the first landing. “Coming, Matt? You’re not going to let an old lady beat you up the stairs, are you?”

Shaken out of my daze, I start up the stairs after her.

Barrington’s office is the same as it was a week ago. It’s quiet, and the receptionist in front of the office politely bars the way. “Mrs. Young… Mr. Paladino… I’m afraid the superintendent isn’t seeing anyone right now. Can you make an appointment?”

“Well, aren’t you sweet? Rest assured, young lady, he’ll see us now. Go tell him who’s here.”

The receptionist is startled by the response. She stands up and does as Peggy says.

Six seconds later, we are ushered into Barrington’s office. Peggy merely smiles, as if she expected nothing less. I’m certain if it was just me they’d keep me cooling my heels for the next week.

“Please have a seat, Mrs. Young. Paladino.”

Peggy gives him a contemptuous look. “That won’t be necessary, we won’t be here long enough.”

I don’t say anything.

Barrington is startled by her statement. He raises his eyebrows, and says, “Well then. Let’s get to it. What can I do for you?”

Peggy says in a calm voice, “You can reinstate Matt Paladino effective immediately.”

Barrington’s eyes widened.

“Why ever would I do that?”

Peggy grimaces. “I had hoped not to dredge your past into it, Michael. You’ve been a little power mad since you took this job. But don’t think I don’t remember you as a 10th grade bully in my class. I remember well. So here’s what I’m going to insist on. You are going to reinstate Matt. You are going to stop retaliating against teachers in this school system. You are going to put it in writing that you will not involve yourself in disciplinary matters anymore.”

Barrington frowns. “You’ve finally gone off your rocker.. Why would I do any of those things?”

Peggy smiles. She reaches into her purse and removes an 8.5 x 11 envelope. She passes it to the superintendent.

He frowns, tears open the envelope, and begins to look through the papers it contains. He reads the first few words, then blanches. Instantly he stuffs the papers back into the envelope. Face pale, he looks up at Peggy.

“Where did you get this?” The question comes out in a hiss.

Peggy shrugs. “The question isn’t where I got it, Michael. I’ve had those papers for many years. The question is, what am I going to do with the original?”

“I ought to have you arrested for blackmail, you witch.”

“I’m sure that would make for entertaining headlines.
Superintendent presses charges against teacher who reveals sexual assault.
Yes, I do think that has a nice ring to it.”

His face flushes red.
Sexual assault? What?
I stare back and forth between the two of them, feeling like a spectator in someone else’s drama.

“I was
seventeen
,” he says.

She shrugs. “All the same, I suspect parents in this district would want to know that the superintendent of schools once assaulted a girl at a drunken party.”

“First, that’s not what happened. Second, the charges were dropped, and you know that.
You know that.”
His voice is taking on a desperate tone.

Peggy leans forward, hands touching the edge of his desk. In a low tone, she says, “I know that your family pressured the police to drop the charges, and with their money, they were able to do it. I know that Lynn was threatened with having her name dragged through the mud because she’d gotten drunk and found herself in a dangerous position. I know that even if you were never formally charged, you were as guilty of rape as if you’d knocked her down in an alley.”

Her voice drops to a low, dangerous tone. She says, “I know I’ve got nothing to lose. I can retire any time, and you can’t take that away from me. And I know you were
exactly
the wrong person to be in this job. I’ll be damned if you’ll do any more harm to this school system.”

With that, the battle is over. Barrington sinks into his seat. His eyes have an unfocused look, almost as if he were drunk. He waves a hand and say, “Fine. You win.” Then his eyes shift to me with a humorless gaze. For a second I think he’s going to give me a threatening look. Instead, his eyes just slide off of me as if I weren’t even there.

“Matt can come back to work?”

Barrington shrugs. “Report to work on Monday, Mister Paladino. I’ll send an email to Mrs. Blunt.”

We leave the office without any further interaction. As soon as we step into the hall, I blurt out, “How—“

She holds up a hand and says, “Wait.”

I shut up, and follow her down the stairs and out of the building. When we reach the front door, I look at my watch. It’s ten after eleven. Ten minutes, and my whole life just changed.

“Are you going to explain?” I ask.

She smirks and slightly shakes her head. “I told you Michael was a… a problem… in high school. His family bought his way out of all manner of scrapes. In the winter of his senior year, the football team had a party and he had sex with a girl who was too drunk to say no. The charges were dropped, his record was clear. But … the poor girl. She transferred to Belchertown High School, but it followed her even there. This was the 1980s, and date rape was neither uncommon nor was it typically prosecuted. I’m sure you can imagine, it would ruin Barrington’s career if that came out in public today. “

“That was a big gamble.”

“No. Not a gamble at all. I knew precisely how he was going to react.”

I give her a smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m grateful.”

“It’s worth a great deal, Matt.”

With that, we part ways. Peggy headed back to the high school, and me … well, I’ve got some business I need to take care of. I drive out of the Falls and up to College Street and pull into Zoe’s driveway.

No one home. Of course not. Zoe’s probably in class, and Jasmine’s at school. I scrabble around in the car, searching for some paper. Under the seat is a flyer from the circus’s appearance in Boston. I stare at the blank back of the flyer. I’m going to write the wrong thing. I’m going to mess this up.

No. No, I’m not. I write a long note on the paper, then fold it. I step out of the car, walking up to the front step of the house and on to the porch. The wood creaks under my steps. I take the folded note and slip it into the crack in the doorjamb. There’s no way she’ll miss it.

Finished, I walk back to the car. I’m breathing heavily. Time to head to Springfield: I’ve got a show to get ready for.

All that drama (Zoe)

An hour and a half later, I walk up the sidewalk in the center of Amherst, a small stretch in the center of town featuring old shops and restaurants. A frequent location for homeless panhandlers is the bench near the Starbucks—as I walk toward it, I see that Luke is there.