The Academy (48 page)

What did you do to her? What the hell did you do?

The teachers were starting to gather around, offering their condolences, expressing sympathy. Diane felt claustrophobic all of a sudden, and she backed away a little. “What did Jody look like?” she asked.

The tide of sympathizers relented, everyone secretly relieved by the change of subject.

“Plastic surgery gone awry,” Joel Grazer opined.

There was nervous laughter from some of the other teachers.

“It looks like she was in an accident,” Lisa Piccolo said, “and is healing,”

“I haven’t seen her today,” Steve Warren offered, “but I saw her yesterday at lunch, and she looked fine.”

“I saw her yesterday after school,” Jackie said, “and she didn’t.”

So whatever happened to the principal had occurred between twelve thirty and three.

What did you do to her? What the hell did you do?

There was the germ of an idea in the back of Diane’s mind, and she excused herself and walked out of the lounge without even getting the coffee she’d come for. Linda hurried after her. “What is it?”

“It’s crazy,” she said. “What I’m thinking is crazy.”

“What?”

“Remember when Bobbi came after me this morning?”

“How could I forget?”

“She was yelling at me, blaming me for something. She said, ‘What did you do to her?’ ”

Linda frowned. “
You
think
she
thinks you did something to Jody?”

“Maybe I did.”

Linda shook her head. “Now I’m confused. What exactly are you talking about?”

“Remember I told you I burned my copy of the charter? The one that . . .” She trailed off, swallowed hard, willed herself not to cry.

“Of course,” Linda said quickly. “I remember.”

“I burned it after lunch sometime, after the mail came and I got that letter from Jody and the committee. That’s the same time that this thing, whatever it is, happened to Jody’s face.”

“You’re saying . . .”

“I’m saying that when I burned my copy of the charter, it did something to Jody.”

The theory was a leap, but Linda had no problem taking it, and Diane could already see the wheels turning in her friend’s mind. “We need to get a look at her,” Linda said.

“Yes.”

“We need to see her sometime today. So we’ll know if there’s a change when I go home and burn
my
copy of the charter.”

Diane smiled. She was feeling suddenly hopeful.

“In fact, I’m going to call a meeting this afternoon. We need to talk about this.
Everyone
needs to burn their copies. If it doesn’t work, if nothing happens, that’s fine. But if it does . . .” Linda nodded to herself. “I have some other ideas, too, other things I want to bring up.”

“I want to see her,” Diane said. There was malice in the wish, a desire for revenge. She had no real proof that Greg had died of anything other than a heart attack, and there was certainly no proof that the burning of her charter had in any way harmed the principal, but in her mind they were all connected, and she was energized by the possibility of avenging Greg’s death.

The bell rang, signaling the end of break, and groups of gathered students began splitting apart as they headed off to their individual classrooms.

Diane looked toward the office. “Let’s take a quick peek,” she said. “Really fast.”

Linda nodded, and before either of them could change her mind, they walked down the concrete path to the administration building, ignoring the two pairs of scouts they passed along the way. There were butterflies in Diane’s stomach as they reached their destination and she looked at the tinted glass door in front of them, unable to see anything inside.

Linda reached for the door handle, pulled it.

They looked in.

Jody could have been in her office or in the bathroom or in a conference or somewhere else on campus. The door could have opened upon an empty front counter and a collection of clerks at their desks.

But she was standing alone behind the counter staring at them.

Linda gasped and let go of the handle, allowing the door to close. Diane gasped, too. Partly because she was surprised, because it appeared as though Jody was waiting for them, because they had been caught.

And partly because of Jody’s appearance.

Even from here, Diane could see what looked like hardened scar tissue on the principal’s grotesquely swollen cheeks. It made her look like a completely different person, an uglier, meaner person, and Diane’s first thought before the door closed and cut off her view was that this visage was much more in keeping with the true personality of the woman.

Could this really have happened because she had burned her copy of the charter?

It didn’t seem possible, but then a lot of things didn’t seem possible, and she turned to Linda and said, “What do you think?”

The quad was emptying out as students dashed to their classrooms before the bell rang, and although they were both going to be late, neither of them made a move. “I don’t know of anything that could change a person’s face like that between lunch and the end of school.”

“Allergic reaction?” Diane speculated.

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t either.”

The bell rang, and they finally started walking.

“It looked like she knew we were coming,” Diane said.

“She saw us walking up. We can’t see in through those doors, but the people in the office can see out.”

“Do you really think that’s why she was staring at us?”

“No,” Linda admitted.

“She looked mad. That’s a good sign.”

“I think so, too.”

“Do you think she was scared?”

“I don’t know.” Linda smiled grimly. “But she’d better be.”

*

Every seat at Denny’s was filled with a teacher.

If there had been other patrons, they were gone, and Linda stood in the center of the coffee shop and looked around her, feeling strong. Weakness and doubt were still there—they were
always
there—but she was filled with more hope than she had been for a long time. She looked at Diane, seated next to her, and reached down to give her friend’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“We are gathered here today,” she began, “to fight the charter.”

A cheer went up, and she couldn’t help smiling.

“Many of you, most of you, probably, have seen or heard about the altered appearance of our fearless leader.”

There were titters all around.

“There’s no need to play games or tiptoe around this. What we believe caused this to happen is the fact that Diane burned her copy of the charter booklet. I know this sounds crazy, but whatever happened to Jody happened sometime between noon and three yesterday. Steve saw her at lunch; Jackie saw her after school. That’s the same time period when Diane burned her copy of the charter.”

“It’s no crazier than anything else!” Alonso called out.

“Right. Exactly. So what we want you all to do tonight is go home, find your own copies of the charter and burn them. Every single one.”

“Are we trying to kill her?” Lisa asked.

“No,” Linda said.
Yes,
she thought. “But let’s be honest here. If the principal is someone or something that can actually be harmed by our burning documents, then . . .” She left the thought unfinished.

“Are we all agreed?” she asked. “Is there anyone who doesn’t think it’s at least an idea worth trying?” She scanned the restaurant. No one raised a hand or made an effort to speak. “Good.

“Now, I have another idea. Also a little wacky, perhaps, but also worth a try.”

Diane nodded her encouragement.

“Originally, Jody submitted a charter application to the state and the district. The charter was written and we were asked to vote on it, to ratify it. When it was approved—by the slimmest of margins, I might add—that was when Tyler officially became a charter school.
And
when most of our problems seemed to start. What I propose is that we take another vote. It wouldn’t be official, of course, and it wouldn’t be under the auspices of the school. Jody would not allow that. But I believe we have a quorum here. Why don’t we take another vote on whether we as teachers would like Tyler High to remain a charter school? We can record the results, give a copy to the administration and submit copies to both the district and state agencies that sanctioned the charter to show them our lack of faith in the current system. Kind of a no-confidence vote.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Ray said.

“There are teachers missing,” Steve pointed out. “We’re not all here.”

“And what about classified staff?” Joel Grazer asked.

Linda hadn’t thought of that. “We can still send a strong message—,” she began.

Ray consulted with some of the teachers around him and did some quick calculations. “This isn’t exact, but I believe Tyler High has a workforce of seventy-six all total, faculty and staff.” He did a head count. “There are forty-two of us here. We should still have a quorum, but before we send off results to anyone, we can look up the correct numbers and fill in the blanks.”

Linda nodded. “Very well. Let’s do it. All those in favor of rejecting the Tyler High School Charter?”

The show of hands was unanimous.

“All those opposed?”

Nothing.

“Forty-two ayes, zero noes and thirty-four abstentions,” Ray announced. “Give or take a few, the ayes have it.”

A cheer went up.

“There’s one last thing,” Linda said when the noise died down. “Something else we can do. This one might be more difficult, because technically it may be grounds for dismissal, so we need to discuss it. But I don’t think we should proctor the achievement test tomorrow.” There was mumbling among the teachers. “I know this is last-minute, but hear me out. One of the stipulations made by the state and the district, one of the promises made by the charter itself, is a measurable increase in Tyler’s scores. If that goal is not met, there’s a reasonable expectation that the charter could be rescinded. Improved scores was one of the conditions of acceptance. We have a chance tomorrow to really make an impact on that front. In fact, I’ve been telling my students for the past two days that they are not legally required to take the test. I realize that that’s probably unethical, and I’ve wrestled with myself over it, but I’ve decided to go with the greater good.”

“I overheard a few of my students whispering,” Marcia Williams said. “I pretended not to hear, but apparently there’s a plan by some of the students themselves to purposely flunk the test. For the same reason. Wouldn’t that be more effective?”

“We can’t take a chance,” Linda told them. “We don’t know how many students would actually go through with it. We also have Jody’s ringers to contend with. Not only are some of our worst-performing students now gone, but they’ve been replaced by aces, which could very well balance out some of the poor scores. We need to make
sure
that Tyler does not do well on the test. And even if our vote and our protest isn’t enough to swing it, just the fact that we
did
vote and
are
protesting should make the district and the state rethink its commitment to Tyler’s charter. If Jody Hawkes cannot control her staff, they might think it time to reestablish district control.”

“I hate the district,” Ray said regretfully.

“But not as much as you hate the charter.”

“No.”

There was much more controversy over this subject—it was not a theoretical fairy-dust solution but a tangible tampering with legitimate educational duties that could have real-world consequences—and after much discussion, they finally agreed to leave it up to the conscience of individual instructors whether to administer the test. Even if only some of the teachers rebelled, Linda reasoned, it could still cause a sizable ripple.

By the time they adjourned, it was dark outside and irate patrons were milling about the area near the door, impatiently waiting for tables. The restaurant staff, too, was irritated—most of the teachers had ordered only coffee—and Linda left an exorbitant tip for her server to make up for the inconvenience.