Part 18 (2/2)

Then the pipes began, and the music was frenzied this time. In front of her, in back, to the sides of her; growing louder, growing faster, and faster. She heard it deep in her blood and when her body began to sway, rhythmically, she closed her eyes and fought and found she could do nothing.

Almost of their own volition, her legs moved in quick, graceful steps. She felt herself being carried over the gra.s.s, swiftly, light as a blown leaf--.

”Stop!”

--swiftly, leaping and turning, to the shaded dell at the end of the grove.Here, consumed with heat, she dropped to the softness, and breathed the animal air.

The music ceased.

A hand touched her, roughly.

She threw her arms over her face: ”No. Please--”

”Miss Maple!”

She felt her hands reaching toward the top b.u.t.ton of her dress.

”Miss Maple! What's the matter?”

An infinite moment; then, everything sliding, melting, like a vivid dream you will not remember.

Miss Maple shook her head from side to side and stared up at a young boy with straw hair and wide eyes.

She pulled reality about her.

”You all right, Miss Maple?”

”Of course, William,” she said. The smell was gone. The music was gone. It was a dream. ”I was following a snake, you see--a chicken snake, to be exact: and a nice, long one, too--and I almost had it, but I twisted my ankle on one of the stones in the brook. That's why I called.”

The boy said, ”Wow.”

”Unfortunately,” Miss Maple continued, getting to her feet, ”it escaped me. You don't happen to see it, do you, William?”

William said no, and she pretended to hobble back to the field.

At 4:19, after grading three groups of tests, Miss Lydia Maple put on her gray cotton coat and flat black hat and started for home. She was not exactly thinking about the incident in the forest, but Owen Tracy had to speak twice. He had been waiting.

”Miss Maple. Over here!”

She stopped, turned and approached the blue car. The princ.i.p.al of Overton High was smiling: he was too handsome for his job, too tall and too young, and Miss Maple resented his eyes. They traveled.

”Yes, Mr. Tracy?”

”Thought maybe you'd like a lift home.”

”That is very nice of you,” she said, ”but I enjoy walking. It isn't far.”

”Well, then, how about my walking along with you?”

Miss Maple flushed. ”I--”

”Like to talk with you, off the record.”

The tall man got out of his car, locked it.

”Not, I hope, about the same subject.”

”Yes .”

”I'm sorry. I have nothing further to add.”

Owen Tracy fell into step. His face was still pleasant, and it was obvious that he intended to retain his good humor, his charm. ”I suppose you read Ben Sugrue's piece in the _Sun-Mirror_ yesterday?”

Miss Maple said, ”No,” perfunctorily. Sugrue was a monster, a libertine: it was he who started the campaign, whose gross libidinous whispers had first swept the town.

”It refers to Overton High as a medieval fortress.”

”Indeed? Well,” Miss Maple said, ”perhaps that's so.” She smiled, delicately. ”It was, I believe, a medieval fortress that saved the lives of four hundred people during the time of the Black Plague.”

Tracy stopped a moment to light a cigarette. ”Very good,” he conceded. ”You're an intelligent person, Lydia. Intelligent and sharp.”

”Thank you.”

”And that's what puzzles me. This mess over the s.e.x-education program isn't intelligent and it isn't sharp. It's foolish. As a biology teacher you ought to know that.”

Miss Maple was silent.”If we were an elementary school,” Tracy said, ”well, maybe your idea would make sense. I personally don't think so, but at least you'd have a case. In a high school, though, it's silly; and it's making a laughingstock out of us. If I know Sugrue, he'll keep hammering until one of the national magazines picks it up. And that will be bad.”

Miss Maple did not change her expression. ”My stand,” she said, ”ought to be perfectly clear by now, Mr. Tracy. In the event it isn't, let me tell you again. There will be no s.e.x-education program at Overton so long as I am in charge of the biology department. I consider the suggestion vile and unspeakable--and quite impractical--and am not to be persuaded otherwise: neither by yourself, nor by that journalist, nor by the combined efforts of the faculty. Because, Mr. Tracy, I feel a responsibility toward my students. Not only to fill their minds with biological data, but to protect them, also.” Her voice was even. ”If you wish to take action, of course, you are at liberty to do so--”

”I wouldn't want to do that,” Owen Tracy said. He seemed to be struggling with his calm.

”I think that's wise,” Miss Maple said. She paused and stared at the princ.i.p.al.

”And what is that supposed to mean?”

”Simply that any measure to interrupt or impede my work, or force changes upon the present curriculum, will prove embarra.s.sing, Mr. Tracy, both to yourself and to Overton.” She noticed his fingers and how they were curling.

”Go on.”

”I hardly think that's necessary.”

”I do. Go on, please.”

”I may be. . . old-fas.h.i.+oned,” she said, ”but I am not stupid. Nor am I un.o.bservant. I happen to have learned some of the facts concerning yourself and Miss Bond . . .”

Owen Tracy's calm fled like a released animal. Anger began to twitch along his temples. ”I see.”

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