Chapter 3—Beginnings
School commenced on the first Wednesday after Labor Day. James was ready to go. He took his morning workout and had a big breakfast. He chose to walk that day, his apartment being close to the school. After his first few classes, he reckoned that he had more energy than the sea of expressionless faces that he looked out over in each of his four sections.
He was too seasoned to expect enthusiasm. Any expression, even fear, would have been preferable over nothingness. Could they really care so little for that which was so important to them? The only response that he could generate was a muffled groan as he explained the homework expectations. James tried to take it in stride. After all, the main activity of the day was passing out textbooks and outlining rules for homework and grades. Not quite enough to create excitement from teenagers.
Nathan saw James in the Teachers' Lounge and sauntered over to say 'hello'.
"How did it go today, James?" Nathan asked.
"It was like a science fiction movie." James answered. "Something like 'Teen-aged Zombies'," James answered, only half-joking.
"Don't worry," Nathan answered. "They're sizing you up. They know that you're new. Teen-agers never give away their feelings to adults if they can help it."
"It'll all work out," James agreed.
"You've already earned a reputation as a 'homework monster'," Nathan informed him. Several students tried to switch sections. I told the Guidance Counselors to tell them that all the sections are full—no changes."
"How much are you giving them?" a voice several feet away interrupted. It was Doris, whom he met at Nathan's barbecue two nights earlier. She was the senior teacher in the Math Department and coveted the Department Chair position.
"About thirty or forty minutes a night." Nathan answered.
"They'll never do it," Doris asserted.
"If they want a decent grade, they'll have to," James argued.
"They're not going to like it. You don't know the lay of the land here. It's not the same as what you're used to." Doris was condescending and obviously perturbed.
"They'll like it better when they pass the State Test," James retorted. "By the time they get to those tests, they won't even have a doubt that they'll pass them."
"State Tests!" Doris muttered with disgust under her breath. "You'll find out," she said and then looked away.
"Call it as you see it," Nathan reassured him. "We need results, with or without homework."
As Nathan moved on to visit the other teachers Doris leaned over to James. She moved close to him to whisper so that Nathan couldn't hear her.
"What are going to do with this homework, once you collect it?" she asked James sarcastically.
"Correct it and give it back."
"Correct it WHEN?" Doris demanded barely able to keep her voice at a whisper.
"Right now would be good if I had some to correct," James replied, or I can take it home with me.
"You can't do that to us!" Doris spat out. "We don't live like you do—like a hermit in a boarding house. My mother told me that you don't even have a television set."
"You have three sections. I have four."
"That's another thing..." Doris was getting angrier and James cut her off. "Manage your class as you see fit. I never said that I thought that you should give up television," he needled her.
"Soon Nathan will put pressure on us all to do it just like you."
"Only if the students are getting good results," James said.
Doris heaved an audible sigh of disgust as she rose and stomped out of the room. In the corner of his eye James noticed Nathan observing the exchange.
Doris had tried to discourage James, but accomplished the opposite. Here was confirmation of what he fathomed in his meditations the night before. It was a sign to him that he was meant to be in Bates, teaching Math to students who needed it and could not receive it without him. His excitement was purging the doubts that had only days ago had stifled him. Once again, he felt stirrings in his belly. It was like an old friend, coming to pay him a visit, bringing a potent elixir to awaken his latent soul. He had befriended the feeling in Guatemala as a young man, when imminent ordeal was a pathway to destiny. It was denied him many years ago. Here it was again. He knew that he was right in his approach. Doris' priorities were different from his. He could barely wait to prove himself.
In truth, James knew that collecting and grading homework from four sections each day was impossible. His plan had never been more than to randomly collect it. He failed to mention that to Doris. He wondered if he had been unfair to leave that out of the argument. He decided not. He would have said so if she had asked. He would have said so if he she approached him in a different way. So be it.
**********
James was walking home at a quick pace after his first day on the job. He had been thinking about shopping for a television set after dinner, but the scene with Doris changed his mind. Instead, he thought that he would lay in a supply of groceries. As he rounded the corner of Whitman St. he saw Mrs. Wilkinson in her yard. It wasn't usual to see her there late in the afternoon. She spent most of her time inside, but there she was.
"Good evening, Mr. O'Toole," she called out pleasantly. "How was your first day on the job?" It was a potentially disarming approach, and it would have worked if Doris had not poisoned the well with her comments that afternoon abouthis lifestyle, with his wizened landlady the only potential source.
"Hello, Mrs. Wilkinson," he called back in measured politeness. "It went just fine, thank you." James kept walking until he saw the woman start to follow him toward the back of the house, and then he stopped.
"Mr. Wilkinson, I need to discuss something," The woman wheezed as she hurried toward him. James stopped and waited for her to continue. She said nothing as she hitched along, waiting to get up close to him.
"I had to enter your apartment today," she announced. "I thought that we had an emergency."
"Really?" James was surprised. "What kind of emergency?"
"I thought that I heard the water running in your apartment. I thought that it might overflow. I had to check it out."
