Part 43 (2/2)

”Who? Johnny? Do you mean Johnny? Why . . .” That was when she decided it was useless. I saw it in her face. ”George, you need to leave.”

”But he could find out,” I said. ”Because your parents know, and your parents thought he was just the bees' knees, you said so yourself.”

I took a step toward her. She took a step back. The way you'd step back from a person who's revealed himself to be of unsound mind. I saw the fear in her eyes, and the lack of comprehension, and still I couldn't stop. Remember that I was scared myself.

”Even if you told them not to say, he'd get it out of them. Because he's charming. Isn't he, Sadie? When he's not compulsively was.h.i.+ng his hands, or alphabetizing his books, or talking about how disgusting it is to get an erection, he's very, very charming. He certainly charmed you.”

”Please go away, George.” Her voice was trembling.

I took another step toward her instead. She took a compensatory step back, struck the wall . . . and cringed. Seeing her do that was like a slap across the face to a hysteric or a gla.s.s of cold water flung into the face of a sleepwalker. I retreated to the arch between the living room and the kitchen, my hands held up to the sides of my face, like a man surrendering. Which was what I was doing.

”I'm going. But Sadie-”

”I just don't understand how you could do it,” she said. The tears had come; they were rolling slowly down her cheeks. ”Or why you refuse to undo it. We had such a good thing.”

”We still do.”

She shook her head. She did it slowly but firmly.

I crossed the kitchen in what felt like a float rather than a walk, plucked the tub of vanilla ice cream from one of the bags standing on the counter, and put it in the freezer of her Coldspot. Part of me was thinking this was all just a bad dream, and I'd wake up soon. Most of me knew better.

Sadie stood in the arch, watching me. She had a fresh cigarette in one hand and the job applications in the other. Now that I saw it, the resemblance to Doris Dunning was eerie. Which raised the question of why I hadn't seen it before. Because I'd been preoccupied with other stuff ? Or was it because I still hadn't fully grasped the immensity of the things I was fooling with?

I went out through the screen door and stood on the stoop, looking at her through the mesh. ”Watch out for him, Sadie.”

”Johnny's mixed up about a lot of things, but he's not dangerous,” she said. ”And my parents would never tell him where I am. They promised.”

”People can break promises, and people can snap. Especially people who've been under a lot of pressure and are mentally unstable to begin with.”

”You need to go, George.”

”Promise me that you'll watch out for him and I will.”

She shouted, ”I promise, I promise, I promise!” The way her cigarette trembled between her fingers was bad; the combination of shock, loss, grief, and anger in her red eyes was much worse. I could feel them following me all the way back to my car.

G.o.dd.a.m.ned Rolling Stones.

CHAPTER 17.

1.

A few days before the end-of-year testing cycle began, Ellen Dockerty summoned me to her office. After she closed the door, she said: ”I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused, George, but if I had it to do over again, I'm not sure I would behave any differently.”

I said nothing. I was no longer angry, but I was still stunned. I'd gotten very little sleep since the blow-up, and I had an idea that 4:00 A.M. and I were going to be close friends in the near future.

”Clause Twenty-five of the Texas School Administrative Code,” she said, as if that explained everything.

”I beg your pardon, Ellie?”

”Nina Wallingford was the one who brought it to my attention.” Nina was the district nurse. She put tens of thousands of miles on her Ford Ranch Wagon each school year circling Denholm County's eight schools, three of them still of the one-or two-room variety. ”Clause Twenty-five concerns the state's rules for immunization in schools. It covers teachers as well as students, and Nina pointed out she didn't have any immunization records for you. No medical records of any kind, in fact.”

And there it was. The fake teacher exposed by his lack of a polio shot. Well, at least it wasn't my advanced knowledge of the Rolling Stones, or inappropriate use of disco slang.

”You being so busy with the Jamboree and all, I thought I'd write to the schools where you'd taught and save you the trouble. What I got back from Florida was a letter stating that they don't require immunization records from subst.i.tutes. What I got from Maine and Wisconsin was 'Never heard of him.'”

She leaned forward behind her desk, looking at me. I couldn't meet her gaze for long. What I saw in her face before I redirected my gaze to the backs of my hands was an unbearable sympathy.

”Would the State Board of Education care that we had hired an imposter? Very much. They might even inst.i.tute legal action to recoup your year's salary. Do I care? Absolutely not. Your work at DCHS has been exemplary. What you and Sadie did for Bobbi Jill Allnut was absolutely wonderful, the kind of thing that garners State Teacher of the Year nominations.”

”Thanks,” I muttered. ”I guess.”

”I asked myself what Mimi Corcoran would do. What Meems said to me was, 'If he had signed a contract to teach next year and the year after, you'd be forced to act. But since he's leaving in a month, it's actually in your interest-and the school's-to say nothing.' Then she added, 'But there's one person who has to know he's not who he says he is.'”

Ellie paused.

”I told Sadie that I was sure you'd have some reasonable explanation, but it seems you do not.”

I glanced at my watch. ”If you're not firing me, Miz Ellie, I ought to get back to my period five cla.s.s. We're diagramming sentences. I'm thinking of trying them on a compound that goes, I am blameless in this matter, but I cannot say why. What do you think? Too tough?”

”Too tough for me, certainly,” she said pleasantly.

”One thing,” I said. ”Sadie's marriage was difficult. Her husband was strange in ways I don't want to go into. His name is John Clayton. I think he might be dangerous. You need to ask Sadie if she has a picture of him, so you'll know what he looks like if he shows up and starts asking questions.”

”And you think this because?”

”Because I've seen something like it before. Will that do?”

”I suppose it will have to, won't it?”

That wasn't a good enough answer. ”Will you ask her?”

”Yes, George.” She might mean it; she might only be humoring me. I couldn't tell.

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