I'd been out of sorts for months, muddled, as if I was climbing a steep mountain path, with a precipitous drop-off, obscured by dense fog, at night, alone. It was emotionally and physically debilitating, so I had it checked.
The news was not good.
The day after I got the results, I caught Aiden Williams cheating on his final history exam. Unfortunately for Aiden, I was not in a good mood.
Aiden was born with the proverbial silver spoon. His father, Josh, owned the only bank in Osage Creek and most of the town. He was a real Henry Potter type, squeezing as much blood from the stones of our fair town as possible.
Aiden was a showoff. When he felt the need to impress his peers, he was obnoxious as hell. He'd ask irrelevant questions like, "Were there gays in the military back then?" during the Civil War unit, or "Who played Lincoln better, Henry Fonda or Daniel Day-Lewis?" He constantly had one foot over the line and one foot behind.
But I had him dead to rights. I took away his test and failed him. He stared at me with his, "Ain't no thing," smirk the rest of the period, then made sure he was the last to leave when the bell rang.
I knew there'd be trouble, so I gave our principal, Mike Stott, a heads up. The backlash came the very next day. I was summoned to his office to meet with Aiden's mother.
She got right to the point.
"I'd like you to give Aiden a make-up test. Mr. Stott has generously offered to proctor the test himself, so Aiden won't make the same mistake. I think that's fair, don't you?"
Stott had just built a new home on the edge of town, financed by guess who. He carefully avoided eye contact. I knew a foregone conclusion when I saw one. Aiden would pass that test.
