*Author's Note: To set the stage for this story, let me begin by saying I'm a skeptic myself.
I find dogmatism of any kind difficult to deal with. When I hear anyone tell me certain thing are 'settled' it rankles me because very few things are ever settled, and that is especially true in the area of science. Were that so, Einstein wouldn't have pursued relativity because Newton had already provided the answers in an area that was considered 'settled' for over a century.
This story will doubtlessly upset some people, and that's fine. I've never written a story to please anyone but myself, and while I never set out to offend anyone, I write what interests me and let the chips fall where they may. If other people enjoy the story, great. If not, c'est la vie.
That said, I stopped looking at reader comments 2-3 years ago. So to anyone who's ever taken the time to say something complimentary, I haven't read it, but I'd like to thank you for doing so. I sincerely appreciate it.
On that note, let me also say that I write for one reason and one reason only—I enjoy it. I get emails all the time with people asking (and often telling) me what to write, how to write, and even whether or not to start with an 'Author's Note'.
So as gently as I can, let me say, no, I won't shorten my stories nor will I include 'more action' in them in the lovemaking scenes. I also won't 'get an editor' or change the way I write because someone feels the need to 'take away two stars immediately!' because of this, that, or the other. Were I to try and please you, I'd upset someone else.
I write for the pure enjoyment, and that means writing what interests me. I'd lose interest were I to try and please everyone—or anyone—so my stories are what they are. And, by the way, they're free. You pay as much to read them as I get to write them. :-)
Lastly, I'm a Libertarian who is committed to truth, with truth being defined as making my beliefs map as closely with Reality as humanly possible. I don't put faith in so-called 'experts' of any kind but rather investigate claims for myself. And until I'm convinced some hypothesis or claim accurately maps with reality, I refuse to accept it, even if it might be true.
This applies to religious claims and to things like dark matter and dark energy, the 'multiverse', the supernatural, and to what is called 'the neo-Darwinian synthesis' (the theory that the diversity of life is due to Natural Selection acting on random mutation and nothing else).
And yes, I am also hugely skeptical of claims about 'global warming' in which we're told that cataclysmic catastrophe awaits unless we act RIGHT NOW to lower CO2 levels when manmade contributions to CO2 levels are around 0.28—0.4% of the 5% role CO2 plays. (Water vapor accounts for about 95% of the greenhouse gas effect. CO2 is just 5% and as I just said, man's role in that is less than half of 1%.)
After all that, I hope you can take a deep breath, relax and enjoy the story for what it is—a story; a love story between an older woman and a very young man who is skeptical of all things.
Okay, here we go!
*****
"Ms. Traxler? Do you have a moment?" her principal asked.
"Of course, Mrs. Renner. What's going on?"
The older woman asked her to close the door and have a seat, so she did both then waited.
"I see you have Brandon Holtz in your class this year."
"Oh. Yes. I believe that's right. Fifth period if I'm not mistaken," she replied as she shuffled the class rosters she'd just picked up from Guidance.
"Are you ready for that?" the 50-year old female administrator and former teacher asked.
"I'm not sure I understand."
"Let me put it bluntly. He is quite possibly the most unique young man I've ever known, and I've been in this business for 27 years."
"Mrs. Renner? I don't mean to be obtuse, but I'm still not following you."
"You do know he has a weekly podcast, don't you?" the older woman asked.
"I heard that, but I've never listened to it. Is that somehow relevant?"
"Monica," the principal said, using her first name, "Brandon is a voracious reader. He's as well-informed as anyone I've ever met, and he's smart as a whip. He's utterly wrong but very intelligent. More importantly, this podcast is giving him a forum to, well, spew his nonsense, and unfortunately, it's growing in popularity."
"Okay. And?" the 30-year old teacher asked respectfully, knowing she still wasn't getting it.
"Well, you're a science teacher. Two of his primary topics are climate change and evolution."
The young teacher smiled before saying, "Then we should get along just fine. Those are two areas I'm very passionate about and spend as much time on each of them as I can. If Brandon can contribute to the learning environment, that's a good thing, right?"
The principal sighed then looked her 2nd-year teacher in the eye. Monica Traxler had been teaching for nine years, but this was only her second at Auburn High School located in the Seattle suburb of Auburn, Washington, and it was obvious she had no idea who this student of hers really was.
"You have seen him, right?" the principal asked with a clear sense of exasperation.
"Well, yes. He's kind of hard to miss. Unless, of course, the throng of girls around him is too big to allow me to get a glimpse of him," Ms. Traxler joked.
The principal not only didn't laugh, she stared at the younger woman until she not only stopped laughing but felt a chill in the air.
"That's the other thing that makes him so...dangerous. He's incredibly intelligent, and yes, he's very attractive. So while you are also a very intelligent and attractive young woman yourself, it can be, well, difficult—to teach when every girl is drooling over him, and every student—male or female—is hanging on every word as though he were some kind of modern-day Oracle."
"I...I'm lost. Again," the young teacher said apologetically.
Mrs. Renner sighed loudly then said, "I thought I was being direct, but now let me be blunt. Brandon will challenge everything you say when it comes to climate change or evolution and who knows what else. And let me tell you, he can twist you in knots with his...pseudo-science...BS! He's no novice in spite of his age. He is, of course, wrong about everything, but he can be very persuasive where other, less well-informed students are concerned. That, plus being distractingly good looking—and even charming—make him a potentially formidable adversary."
"Adversary? I mean no disrespect, but he's just a high school senior. And from what little I've been told, he's unfailingly polite and always respectful. So can you please help me understand what I'm missing here?" Monica asked as tactfully as she could.
The principal glared at her then said, "I'm not sure what's beyond 'blunt', Ms. Traxler, but here goes."
The principal sat up, gave Monica a very stern look, the said, "I do NOT want a local TV station in my school! And the last thing I need are parents raising the roof over someone spreading lies and disinformation in one of my classrooms!"
The veins in her thick neck were bulging as she pointed at the very attractive, much-younger woman across from her as she pointed at her and said, "And in case you haven't broken the code yet, that means YOUR class, Ms. Traxler!"
After taking a long, slow breath, the older woman said much more calmly, "Am I clear?"
She'd stopped short of yelling, but Monica had never been spoken to like that before, let alone by someone she worked for.
Now afraid, and even more confused, the science teacher blinked several times, and hoping to make the diatribe stop, said, "Yes, ma'am. Very clear."
"Good. Then I expect you to take charge of the discussions at all times when those topics arise, limit his comments, and move on. We don't NOT need anyone thinking we are either 'science deniers' or creationist whackos!"
"Oh, no. Of...of course not," Monica said as though she fully understood. "Will that be all?"
"Yes. Just keep this little talk of ours in mind—and private—and do not ever let him have the upper hand."
"No. I...I won't," she promised as she stood up then nervously walked out.
Her closest friend at school was another female science teacher named Cynthia Shuster. Cynthia was 34, married, and had a two-year old son while Monica was still single and, and as of late, only halfheartedly looking but without any real interest or success.
"Anything important?" Cynthia asked when she saw her newest friend appear from behind closed doors.
When Monica got closer, Cynthia noticed her friend was shaking and asked if she was okay.
"I...I'm not sure," Monica said very quietly.
Her friend seemed very sympathetic and told her, "Come on. Let's go back to class where we can talk. Privately."
It was the last week of August, and as always, teachers were back a week early taking care of planning and getting their classrooms ready for student arrivals the following week.
Once inside Mrs. Shuster's room, she asked Monica what was going on.