35. Oliver
THIRTY-FIVE
Oliver
Georgia and I are in another coaching meeting after school in her classroom, but today we’re forced to sit side by side to look over some of the student work she’s collected.
I’ve just taught Georgia a data analysis strategy that begins with sorting her student work into three basic piles: ‘didn’t get it’, ‘got it’, and ‘got it plus’. Our arms cross as we reach across one another to sort work into various piles. We’re play fighting, shoving each other’s arms out of the way. I am biting a stray finger as it flies past my mouth, when I see movement through the window of the door to her classroom.
I freeze for a half a moment. Then I shift my chair over, way over, the chair screeching across the floor.
Georgia finally looks up at her door. Superintendent Daniels’s greasy face pops into the window.
“Oliver…” she whispers, horrified.
“Just keep quiet. Keep sorting those piles,” I say, forcing my face into a mask of calm control and striding towards the door.
Mr. Daniels’s face is smug when I meet him in the hallway .
“Well, well, well,” he says, like a comically bad movie villain.
“How can I help you, Mr. Daniels?” I am cool, calm, collected.
“You two are looking mighty comfortable in there.” He sneers. “Not sure that’s a good look for the situation we’re in right now.”
“That is patently false, Mr. Daniels, and I’ve warned you already about speaking about my staff?—”
“Whatever you’re doing to her to keep her in line isn’t working though,” he cuts me off.
My answering stare is blank.
His smile turns sinister. “Oliver, tell me why, after my explicit directive to keep this class and their teacher out of my line of sight, I get a phone call from that same irate parent? Accusing that teacher in there,” he says, pointing a grubby finger towards her classroom, “of physical and verbal assault?”
I feel my heart rate pick up, hear it pounding in my ears. “That man was arrested for the way he attacked my staff and my families; I don’t even know how he could file such a complai—” I trail off as I remember what Max told me before the break.
He sneers. “And then, tell me why I get a phone call from another parent, accusing the original parent of harassment and telling me that her daughter had to be taken out of this class?”
“I—”
“This is the opposite of what I told you to do, Oliver. That’s two phone calls from two very, very angry parents. Did you entirely forget about your promotion?”
Shit, shit, shit, shit . I gather myself, building up a response in my head, stacking idea on top of idea, making a tidy little list of reasons, all while Daniels’s greasy face glares at me. “I apologize for my teacher, Mr. Daniels. It will not happen again,” I say firmly. “She can be a bit…overzealous. I’ve spoken to her at length about it, but it seems she’s refused to heed my directives. Regardless, I still take full accountability for her actions.”
He narrows his eyes. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I need something to tell these parents, Oliver,” he says, frowning at me. “They’d like to see some sort of resolution.”
“I—” I falter.
What the hell is the least hurtful thing I can do to Georgia while getting this man off our asses? I run through a list of options in my head, peeling through them like a dealer shuffling a deck of cards. A third letter to file won’t be such a big deal. It’s not like she’s automatically fired after three letters. I would have to start the firing process after the third letter. For something egregious. I just won’t. Besides, her other two letters will expire in April. Just a few more months. This is the best option. Right? Do you have a fucking choice?
“I’ll… I’ll write her up for inappropriate behavior.” I finally answer, hiding my full body wince, already regretting it. I soldier forward. Too late now. “I’ll send you a letter to file to sign. You can reassure the ‘irate’ parent,” I sneer while thinking of his fat face, “that it’s been handled and that she’s been written up.”
He eyes me. “Fine. Let’s go tell her together, then.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“I’d like to see how you handle difficult situations of this nature, Oliver. If you do become my deputy, you will need to have these types of conversations with the principals you oversee. I want to see how you perform. Let’s go tell your teacher,” he says, and he marches towards her door without waiting for an answer. I practically run after him.
Georgia is standing right on the other side. My heart sinks, and I just know by the look on her face that she’s heard every word of our conversation.
Superintendent Daniels looks at me.
I clear my throat and square my back. I give her a look, one that hopefully imparts, Let’s just make this believable here and now, Georgia, but I love you and I don’t mean a word of it.
She raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms.
“Ms. Baker,” I start, and I hate the way my voice sounds. “The superintendent’s office has received several complaints about the way you’ve conducted yourself in your classroom and with the larger PS 2 community.” I wince as I clock her body flushing red, getting tense, ready to explode, furious . “You have been accused of physical and verbal harassment, and after my verbal warning and further investigation, I have no choice but to write you up.”
She erupts. “Are you kidding me, Oliver?!”
Daniels is shocked. I’m not.
“You were there both times,” she continues, “you know that jerk deserved it. He was assaulting Dorothy’s parents?—”
All I want to do is take her in my arms. “That’s enough , Ms. Baker,” I roar over her, silencing her. “You should be ashamed of your behavior. May I remind you that both of your supervisors stand here? Your bosses, Ms. Baker, and I’ve warned you in the past to mind how you speak to us.”
She opens her mouth to rage some more, but I am forced to cut her off.
“You are being written up for insubordination and inappropriate conduct. Come to my office tomorrow morning to sign the paperwork.” I give her a look one last time, but she doesn’t seem to receive it, or if she does, she doesn’t seem to care. I turn on my heel to walk out of the classroom, Daniels following on my heel.
“Should’ve fucking done my therapy homework,” I hear her mutter, before the door slams behind us.
I usher Mr. Daniels out of the building after he commends me on a job well done, but I no longer care. I am itching to run back upstairs to her classroom, but I can’t take that risk, not now, with people still in the building.
I text her.
I’m so sorry. That wasn’t real. I’ll talk to you at home.
She never responds.
I go home to wait for her. She never comes over. I call her. It goes straight to voicemail. I go to bed by myself for the first time in weeks.
Come on, Georgia. I’m sorry. Please talk to me.
Nothing.
At school the next morning, I’m dying to go upstairs, especially after faxing over that fucking letter to Daniels, but it would be highly illogical for me to go up there, especially now.
So I carry on with my day, a regular school day, attending meetings and doing classroom observations and calling this person and that person regarding this thing and that thing. Cleaning and reorganizing my office. Checking things off my to-do list. I’m distracted and restless in my office when my dad calls me.
“Hey, Dad.” I put the phone on speaker and lay it on my desk.
“Hi Ollie. How are you? How’s Georgia?”
I sigh. “At what point did it become a check in for the two of us?”
“When you brought her home for Christmas to meet your entire extended family, Ollie,” my dad says matter-of-factly .
I scrub my face. “Right.”
“Well? How are you two?”
“I thought we were okay, but we’re… in a weird place right now. We’re still sneaking around, and I had to write her up yesterday.” I quickly explain what’s been going on with Max’s fucking father and Superintendent Daniels and the complaints to his office.
“So you gave Georgia her third letter? In front of Daniels?” he asks.
“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal,” I remind him. “The older two will be scrubbed from her record this April. And this one will expire after another year.”
“I don’t know, Ollie. I seem to remember a ‘three strikes and you’re out’ rule about letters to file.”
“Right, if you have three letters to file, I can start the process to fire her. But it’s its own separate entity. Not an automatic three strikes and you’re out. But obviously I’m not going to do anything,” I explain to him.
He hums. “Probably still a shitty feeling for her. To have her boss embarrass her like that in front of her even bigger boss.”
I also think about how hard she’s been working to avoid a third letter. I sigh. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Did you talk to her before making that choice? What did she want to do?”
“No… Remember, it all happened in like, five minutes. Daniels didn’t give me any time.”
He hums again.
“It’ll be fine by April,” I tell him impatiently.
“All right, Ollie. Be careful—” There is a noise as someone yells in the background. “Your mother wants to speak with you.”
“ Hala , Ollie, you really messed up!” Ma says over the phone .
I run my hands through my hair. “I know, Ma,” I tell her, chastened, and feeling like I’m ten years old again.
“How are you going to fix this? We need a new Mrs. Flores around here,” she demands.
“I’m going to have a conversation with her, Ma, and explain everything.” As soon as I find her. “And it’s a little too early to be calling her Mrs. Flores, Ma. I’ve known her for, like, four months?—”
“And also, cook her favorite food,” she continues, ignoring me. “Do you want me to cook it? What’s her favorite food, Ollie?”
“Don’t cook for her Ma, it’s fine?—”
There is a knock on my door, and Lina walks into my office.
“I’m going to cook for her, Ollie; just tell me what her favorite food is?—”
I mash the red hang-up button.
“What whose favorite food is?” Lina asks.
“Nothing. No one.”
“Was that Mrs. Flores?” she smiles.
“What the fuck, Lina; you too? It’s only been two months. She’s still my subordinate, and she certainly cannot be Mrs. Flores.” I rub my face with my hands.
She looks at me, perplexed. “What the hell are you talking about? I asked if that was your mother?”
“What?” I blink at her. “My mother… Oh, yes. Yes, that was Mrs. Flores, my mother. Mrs. Flores.” I take subtle deep breaths, willing my blood pressure to drop.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” She breaks into a grin. “Two months, huh? I bet Mama Flores is going apeshit. A new Mrs. Flores? Oh, shit.” Lina’s face falls quickly. “Wait, you said a subordinate?! ”
“ No , ” I half-shout.
“Oh no. No, no, no. Oliver ,” she shouts, louder than me .
“No, no, no, is right, Lina?—”
“GEORGIA?! Is Mama Flores talking about GEORGIA?!” she shrieks at maximum volume.
“Lina. SHUT. UP.”
She paces around the room. I follow her back and forth, trying to shush her, gesticulating in her face. “Oliver, you’ve… This is… You can’t… FOR TWO MONTHS?”
“Lina, lower your voice?—”
“I thought I heard the third grade team talking about it—but wasn’t sure,” she’s mumbling to herself.
“Wait, what?! They know?!” I whisper-yell.
She stops in her tracks and whirls around. “Didn’t you just write her up this morning?! I was cc’ed on the email!” she whisper-yells back.
“Yes, I did. The superintendent made me. I had no choice?—”
“You dick, Oliver?—”
“I HAVE IT HANDLED?—”
“Did you write her up so you could get that stupid fucking promotion?!”
“Yes, well, no, not entirely because of that?—”
“This is really fucked, Oliver; you’re a real asshole?—”
The phone on my desk rings.
Superintendent Daniels’s name pops up on the caller ID.
Lina looks at me, her eyes wide with panic. “Pick it up,” she whispers.
“I don’t want to pick it up. Maybe he’ll leave a voicemail,” I whisper back.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Oliver? Pick up the phone. It’s our boss calling.”
“No—”
Lina presses “Accept” and puts the call on speaker.
I glare at her. She glares back .
I clear my throat. “Afternoon, Mr. Daniels. How can I help you?”
“Hello, Oliver. Just calling to give you some updates,” his slimy voice says over the phone.
“Did you get the letter to file I faxed over this morning?”
Lina scoffs. I shush her.
“Yes, and that’s what I’m calling about. I’m really glad you did that, Oliver, that you got me the paperwork so quickly.”
“Why is that?”
“Well,” he begins cheerfully, ignorant of Lina’s and my panic, “That dad called my office again this morning. Mr. Jones wanted to know the resolution of my investigation. I told him you handled it, and that Ms. Baker was being written up for improper conduct.”
“Yes, that’s correct,” I intone. “Was he pleased with the outcome?”
“Yes, very pleased,” he says with glee. “He said it came at the perfect time. Apparently, he’s going down to the precinct today to press charges against Ms. Baker. For assault. He’s going to use the letter to file, plus all the other letters to file that I found on her record as evidence to support all her inappropriate behavior.”
My heart sinks. He keeps talking, but I don’t hear him over the ringing in my ears. I drop back into my chair. I look helplessly at Lina, who has also taken a seat, her head in hands.
“—if she’s found guilty, it’ll be up to you to use that case to fire her and strip her of her license. Then we can get a new teacher in there, stat, and you can come up here and work for me.”
I hang up the phone.
Lina and I look at one another.
I speak first. “I have to go see her,” jumping out my chair and moving towards the door.
Lina blocks my exit. “Sit down, Oliver. That is not the right move right now,” she is saying, shifting her body whenever I try to move around her.
“I have to let her know what’s happening.” My mind is racing through the infinite possibilities of how screwed she’s going to be.
She shoves me away from the door. “I will not let you , the leader of this school building, during the school day, run up to the classroom of the teacher you are having an illicit relationship with. What are you going to do when you get there, huh? Drop to one knee and beg her for forgiveness in front of thirty eight-year-olds? Are you insane? Sit. Down.”
Lina’s comments resonate like a record scratch in my head. Ripping my hair out of my head, I sit back in my chair. Breathe .
“I have to come up with a plan,” I say out loud.
She nods. “Plans are good.”
“Plans are dependable.”
“Let’s make a to-do list, Oliver. First thing on the list—text Georgia to come see you after school.”
I do just that, and I get organized.