***So far, Miranda Jessup Buckley, has been jilted, fired, and left to take care of someone else's child.  After a nice weekend, she is getting ready to go back to work since being fired.  But one phone call from Waylon's school sets her morning on its side.***

 

 

 

Remember when I said school had never been my thing?  Well, turning into the parking lot of Patterson High School, suddenly fills my heart with dread.   I didn't graduate from Patterson.  I went to the cross town rival, Cameron High.  I was one of the first graduating classes, when it was state of the art, shiny and clean.  I, and, I'm pretty sure, most of my contemporaries took that for granted.  Now, pulling up into the fire lane, I see a dinghy old building.  There is nothing remotely new or charming about it.  It looks like one of those schools from a horror movie. 

 

Times have changed because in my day, you could just walk into a school, state your business and get on with your day.  Now, you have to get "buzzed" in.  

 

After the buzzer allows me to pull the heavy metal and glass door open, I step inside.  I take a deep breath to steady my nerves.  It smells like a high school.  Sweat, perfume, hormones are all mingling in the air.  It's rank and nostalgic.

 

The door to the office is propped open, not with a triangular wedge of wood or rubber.  Nope, it's propped open with a text book that is shoved under the door.  Higher learning at its best.

 

A sweet older lady is at the desk. Her cheater glasses pushed up on her salt and pepper hair.  She smiles widely.  "Good afternoon, oh goodness, it's morning.  Good morning, how can I help you?"

 

"Someone called me about Waylon Wilcox."

 

She shuffles some papers nervously, then pushes a button on the intercom.  "Waylon Wilcox's mother is here."

 

"I'll be right out.  Tell her to have a seat. "

 

The lady looks up and starts to repeat everything I just heard.  "I heard.  I'll just sit over there."

 

"They'll be right with you."

 

"I got it," I say, biting the tip of my tongue to keep from saying something smart ass.  But I'm sure my face is putting that message out, loud and clear.

 

I flip through the yearbooks on the table next to my chair.  Except for the hairstyles, nothing has changed.  The pretty, popular crowd has the majority of photographic real estate, while the science and math geeks get a page only if they win some competition.

 

"Mrs. Wilcox?"

 

I grab my purse off the floor by my feet and stand up.  When I look up, I throw up just a little in my mouth.

 

"Miranda?"  she says.

 

"Elaine."

 

"Is this some sort of joke?"

 

"Elaine Buckley,"  I say, hoping maybe I'll come to in an alternate universe.  "I thought you used to be the head warden at the prison school."

 

"I was the principal, and it was the county alternative school." Her words come slithering out of her clenched jaw.

 

Elaine Buckley, headmaster of Patterson High School is one and the same as Elaine "Lainey" Buckley, my former mother-in-law.  This does not look good for Waylon.  Because whatever chance he had of some sort of mercy by way of the Patterson County School System, just got flushed down the toilet.

 

Her smile has not changed.  It is as unfriendly now as it was when I was married to Farley.  "Follow me."

 

She leads me down a hallway with posters of teenagers with beaming white capped teeth smiles.  You know the kind.  The future's so bright, you're gonna need shades kind.  We stop in front of a closed door and she knocks three times then there is the sound of a lock disengaging.

 

"Is that the secret club knock," I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.

 

"I'm glad you're finding this funny."

 

She ushers me in.  It's a room straight out of a cop show.  Waylon is sitting at the table, looking down.  A resource officer on one side and a burly P.E. teacher on the other side.  It's kind of comical and I would normally laugh, but this kid's future is up for grabs right now.

 

"What the hell, Waylon?"

 

He looks up, his eyes bulging and filled with fear.   " I forgot it was in there.  I swear to God.  I wasn't going to do anything bad with it."

 

"Calm down, Waylon.  What did they find?"

 

He looks to the table on the right side of the room.  "I swear I just forgot it was in my backpack.  I went to give the teacher that bottle of water from Haynes Pond and it fell out."

 

Damn it!  There on the table was that hideous knife of Aaron's.  It looks even bigger and more deadly here.

 

"Alright, I can explain this," I say, ready to clear things up but the dragonlady named Elaine holds up her bony hand.

 

"There is a zero tolerance policy here.  I'm going to have to expel him."

 

Waylon let's out a little sob.

 

"Oh, come on , Elaine.  Look at him.  Does he look like some crazy kid who would hurt somebody?"

 

She folds her arms across her waist.  "It doesn't matter whether I think he looks like he'll do something.  The fact of the matter is he brought a weapon to school."

 

"Can we talk?  Privately?"

 

Elaine looks very uncomfortable. I know she isn't scared of me.  She just doesn't like me.  And the feeling's mutual.

 

The resource officer visibly bristles.  "I can call for backup, Principal Buckley.  We can have her and him escorted off the property."

 

"Yes, you go on and call for backup, you Barney Fife wannabe."

 

Elaine waves him off.  "Take him to the cafeteria for a few minutes."

 

The men grab Waylon's upper arms and lead him out.  They struggle to get through the door because both men want to take the lead. 

 

She motions for me to close the door.  "What's on your mind, Miranda?"

 

"This is bullshit and you know it.  My neighbor was cleaning out his truck and started shoveling crap into Waylon's bag.  He wasn't going to use it."

 

"If I let him off, I have to let everyone off."

 

"Cut the crap, Elaine.  Waylon is a good kid.  He loves school.  Every morning he gets himself up and walks to the bus stop.  Nobody drives him here.  He loves this marine biology class.   He's smart.  Don't ruin his future because of me."

 

Elaine looks away, irritation playing on her face.  "He brought a weapon on school grounds, I can't just let him off scott free."

 

"Have him write a paper about not checking his backpack.  Have him write a paper about water purity.  Anything."

 

"Miranda, Miranda, Miranda," she sighs.

 

"Elaine, Elaine, Elaine."

 

"Three days suspension.  Plus a paper on the importance of not holding things for others."

 

"Three days?"

 

Elaine holds up her hand. "Three days suspension or expulsion. Even you should see the opportunity I'm giving him.  He could go to the prison school."

 

I know when not to pick a fight.  This is what they call a plea bargain agreement in the legal world.  It's actually very lenient and probably one of the nicest things Elaine Buckley has ever done.

 

"I would say it's been a pleasure to see you again, but, let's be honest, we both know I'd be lying."

 

"Good bye, Miranda.  Make sure that boy keeps his nose clean.  Next time I won't be such a softy."

 

She sends for them and after a few minutes they return to the office.

 

"Let's go."  I put my hand on his shoulder and lead him to the door.  "Elaine." I nod curtly as she stands there with her hands on her hips.

 

"Miranda."

 

There are no warm fuzzy feelings as we step outside into the dazzling sunshine just a dragon and her two minions watching us from behind the glass doors.

 

To be continued...