The Caged Student Ch 06

I reenter the 'classroom' fifteen seconds late and stand next to my desk in a slightly relaxed posture. Just enough of my not-so-subtle attitude to piss off 'Old Baldy'. He scowls at me, and his jowls look uglier than ever. It would be a good first test.

"You're late, Miss Yeager. I'd hope after yesterday you would wish to avoid any other; incidents. Sit please."

"Yes, sir." I quickly do so, acting all casual, even as my nervousness keeps me on edge. But it's not like the fear of last night. It's that performance anxiety before a test. Just not the test Mr. Cox has been planning.

"This is a review of several classes you have taken at Warrington as well as what you covered over the last twenty-four hours." Mr. Cox points at the clock. "You will..."

"Sir?" I interrupt, raising my hand.

"Yes, Miss Yeager?"

I give him my most contrite look. "Professor. I need to know... I mean, I can't concentrate on the work, sir."

"What are you concerned about, Yeager?"

"I... Uhmm." I try to tap into my feelings and concentrate as hard as I can. "Could you help me with the test?"

Mr. Cox blinks several times. "That wouldn't be; at all appropriate, Miss Yeager. Now if you would turn to page..."

I raise my hand again, and now Mr. Cox appears exasperated. I plow on anyway. "I really wish to get back to school, sir. I'm afraid I can't remember everything from last year." I'm really leaning into it now, and Mr. Cox clearly freezes this time.

"I..." He looks worried. "We can't have you fail, can we?"

"No, sir. That's the point of this, isn't it?"

Mr. Cox nods slowly. "Yes. Our success will make The Headmaster only happier."

The Headmaster again. "Is it important, sir?" My forehead creases at the effort, and the old man begins to smile wistfully.

"I was hoping that when you went back to school and your grades improved, that would make a positive impression on the Headmaster. Did you know he's thinking about creating a finishing school for graduating seniors next semester?"

"No, sir." That's a bit of information, at least. My excitement builds, but I'm growing tired.

"I haven't been told much about that yet, but it sounds intriguing. College credits. Contact with various admissions offices. Scholarships..."

I look around. "What? In this room here?"

"No, Miss Yeager. This is my place. On campus during the summer. The Headmaster says he would be using his considerable influence to help any student who wishes to attend. Especially you."

What the...? "Me?" Mr. Cox is kinda staring off into space now.

"Yes. I'm guessing that this is the ultimate test for my program. If I can shape you into a serviceable student, that is. The first girl was so much easier."

I should be insulted, but 'Old Baldy' is spilling his guts now. "And if I attended and did well, then you would look that much better to the Headmaster?"

Mr. Cox bobs his head once. "A mutually beneficial result, if I do say so. If only I hadn't botched..." He seems to come to himself. "I mean; if you weren't so recalcitrant."

I'm tiring out. A pain has formed right at the back of my head, and it's getting worse quickly. Whatever I'm doing, it's really difficult. I throw out one last try. "That's why you have to help me."

The old man's eyes are clearly focused on me now. "No, Miss Yeager. Now quiet down, or I might have to give you some raps on the hands."

"But you don't like to smack students' hands."

"Whatever gave you that idea, Yeager?"

I sit there looking at him in confusion. Did he remember anything from yesterday? I sigh as Mr. Cox tells me I have two hours. With little enthusiasm, I pick up a pencil and begin the first question. At least this is math, and we have gone over all of this several times already. Time passes, and things seem to settle down for a while. The headache fades away after a few minutes, and my pace begins to pick up.

I keep glancing up at 'Old Baldy' but he doesn't seem interested in causing me any problems for now. Not like yesterday. When Mr. Cox did happen to look up, it was with a scowl, and I would quickly become especially focused on the paperwork in front of me. I answer one question after another and make short work of math.

English is next, and I try to remember the books that we had read. I steadily become more confident in my answers as I reach the more recent topics in my class last year. The final question is about Catch-22, and I quickly flip the page.

And on it goes. I guess I don't need that much help after all. Okay. Science. Ummm... My newfound confidence is shattered by the second question. I struggle to recall any of the formulas in chemistry. After a minute of staring at the questions, I recognize that I'm going to surely fail this subject. After the third question with only a partial answer, I give up. Preparing myself for the worst, I slowly raise my hand.

Mr. Cox notices and scowls back at me. "What is it, Yeager? And don't tell me you need to use the restroom. You had an opportunity earlier."

I try to focus on him again, but the headache comes back even faster. "No, sir. I just can't... I can't remember a lot of the formulas from last year in chemistry, sir. We usually had our notes."

Mr. Cox nods his head. "You haven't checked the third page, Yeager. It would be quite extraordinary for a 2.0 student like yourself to remember what a Mole is, eh?"

Turning to the last page of the chemistry section, I find a table of common measurements and formulas. Looking back up with an obvious air of relief, I almost thank the man. After thinking it over a moment, I put on my best sheepish look. "I'm sorry, sir. I should have checked first."

Mr. Cox pauses for a moment and then actually smiles pleasantly, at least for him. "Please continue, Yeager. Less than an hour left."

Relaxing again I steadily proceed through this section of the test. With half an hour to go, I flip the page and find history is next. I realize that I didn't have a course in this class my senior year, and Mr. Cox hadn't reviewed anything about this topic since I got here. Reading the first question, I see that it's about Truman and the end of World War II. Did we cover this? I sit back and try to recall. Not coming up with anything useful, I move on to the second question. The French Revolution? Biting my lip, I knew I'm in real trouble now. The next question, maybe?

What laws in Great Britain caused the Irish Potato Famine to become more exacerbated, and what actions did the government take to correct the issues at that time?

What; the; fuck!

I remember several days last year that dealt with Victorian England. The potatoes had some kind of disease and the people of Ireland began to starve. But what were the laws called? The Potato Laws? Goddamit! My palms begin to sweat as I realize that I'm going to screw this one up too. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

"Miss Yeager..."

I look up at the old man and stop. I can't believe what I think I see on 'Old Baldy's face. "Go ahead, sir," I say guardedly.

He swallows hard. "How are you progressing, Yeager?"

Even though it's only there a moment, I'm sure I saw something. The same look the boys would have when they were shyly trying to engage me in conversation. That embarrassed look when they realized what they were about to say was something pretty stupid. It really looked out of place on 'Old Baldy'. Is the craziness about to start now? Feeling very alone in this room, I shake my head. "I'm sorry, sir. I... I figured it out already."

Trying to start again, I could still sense Mr. Cox staring at me. I really can! I try to write something and act like nothing's wrong. Why can't I remember anything from history? What is the bastard going to do if I fail? Oh fuck! He's standing up!

"It's obvious that something's wrong, Miss Yeager, " Mr. Cox says with a bit of impatience. Stepping to the front of my desk he picks up the last few pages I've been working on. "You haven't begun the history portion yet?"

I sit frozen. I can't feel anything like last night, but I don't want to do something that might set the old man off. Where is Miss Holeman? With my fear growing, all I do is shake my head.

"You did do the work last year, didn't you? Or were you cheating?"

He's setting me up. He's acting all nice and caring. Oh, God... He's leaning over me! I don't move a muscle. The friendly look he gives me sends a shiver down my spine. He's going to do something! Trying very hard, I keep my voice as steady as I can. "I did, sir. I mean; I did the assignments. I just can't remember..." My voice fails me as the old geezer circles around and places the papers back in front of me. He's way, way too close!

"Well. Let's go over this, shall we?"

Cox bends over and places a hand on the desk right next to mine. It's all I can do not to fall out of my chair.

"Ah. The end of World War II. Now Truman would be...?" He glances down after I don't respond. Studying me a moment longer, he slowly stands upright. "I'm sorry."

What did he just say? "Sir?"

Mr. Cox returns to the front of his desk and turns to face me. "Can I be frank with you, Miss Yeager?"

"Umm... Yes, sir." I want to just say shut up and leave me alone, but the odds of that happening are slim to none.

"Miss Yeager. I need to put this in the most emphatic terms I can. What I apparently did to you last night was completely wrong. I escalated the situation much too quickly and should have let you consider your answers more carefully."

"Yes, sir." I still look at him distrustfully. I've never seen the man talk so; openly. He's still erratic; but in a good way? I get myself under control to see where this goes.

The old man lets out a long sigh. "What I'm trying to do here, Yeager, is for your benefit. I was hoping that by this time tomorrow you would be in a much better situation than when you arrived. These tests, for example."

I look down. "What about them? Sir."

"Well, Yeager, I was planning on grading and then submitting them to the Headmaster to be averaged with your tests last year."

I can't believe it. This is way too good to be true! "That would mean..."

Mr. Cox nods. "You could significantly improve your average GPA as well as start off with nearly a 4.0 this year." Mr. Cox smiles. "Wouldn't you like that, Miss?"

What the...? I think back. What just happened? I was really worried. Almost panicking. And then Mr. Cox seems to feel sorry for me. This is all so confusing!

"I have to ask, Miss Yeager. Do you have any plans for your life after you graduate?"

"Not exactly, sir."

"Are you going to stay home? Mooch off of your caregiver if he allows it?"

I grow a bit embarrassed. That isn't far from what I was thinking. At least for a little while. "I, ah, was going to work, I guess," I say just to cover.

Mr. Cox frowns. "You wouldn't go to the summer classes?"

Would it hurt to lie? After yesterday, I'm leery to do it. "Maybe, sir. After I find out more, I guess."

"That's a sound response, Miss Yeager. Now then, continue your test."

I actually feel a lot better than I did a few minutes ago. Still, I don't know much about history. It's time to try a new theory. I think about getting a report card with a 4.0 and flash it in front of our valedictorian, Jenny Pemberton. That would be so sweet! Channeling all of myself into the feeling, I give him a sugary grin. "You have a wonderful teaching style, sir. With a little bit of help, I know I could get a perfect score for the Headmaster."

This time there isn't even a pause. "Of course, Miss Yeager. How about the first question?"

My smile grows. He gave in!

* * *

Slamming into the wall, I watch the racquetball carom away, just out of reach. I'm out of breath and sweating. Admit it, boy, you're not quite as young as you feel sometimes. At least I'm in better shape than a few months ago when I joined this gym.

William trots over to get the ball. "Is that all you got, Collin?"

I shake my head trying not to look too tired. "Just not used to this," I point at the court, "jumping around; and hitting the walls is all."

Will smiles. "Beats running around in circles on the upper level."

I can only nod as the slightly younger man readies his serve. Will has been with the company for eight months now, and we'd hit it off soon after my wife had left me. He's about the closest thing to a friend I have at work. Kind of a stocky fellow, he's agile and loves racquetball. I, on the other hand, being a little lanky, find it hard on my joints. Focusing on the ball, I'm able to volley several times before losing again.

Will flips his racquet. "Match!"

I lean against the plexiglass wall. "I don't think; I'll ever; beat you."

Will gathers his towel and wipes the sweat from his face. "You're getting better. Made me work for it."

Until the last three points. "Maybe next time." Getting some of my breath back, I open the door. Usually I would work out alone, but recently both of our schedules allowed for an occasional match together. Settling into a routine, we both head for the showers for a quick rinse. I wrap a towel around my waist and carefully enter the warm steam room afterwards. Sitting down in a corner, the two of us take a moment for the vapor to penetrate our lungs. Beginning to feel better, I let out a long sigh. "I needed this."

Will stares out into the fog. "Things aren't that bad in accounting. Remember, you got to go early after I finished the A.P. reconciliation for you. Unless there's something you're not telling me?"

"Thanks for that, by the way." Should I talk about what happened? I have to confide in someone since my conscience keeps eating away at me. "Everything's fine on that front. It's just: Sally."

Will looks over. "Oh?"

"Well, when I went home on Wednesday, I found Sally already there with some of her classmates." I try my best to be as circumspect as possible. "She's facing expulsion."

Greg looks concerned. "Man. I'm sorry."

I stare at my mid-section, watching the condensate roll down the sides. What was once a sizeable beer belly has now become more firm by the week. "She's been given one last chance."

Will leans over and puts his elbows on his spread legs. "I don't know Sally, but I hope you can find a way to deal with this. At least you know what's going on now."

I shrug again. "Yeah. I hope so too."

It's obvious my co-worker is still worried about me. "I was wondering. What's Warrington like? My son is fourteen, and we're interested."

I look up. "Oh? It's a typical private school. Pretty strict but the teachers are really good."

"And the facilities? Leadership?"

I half smile. "Top notch. The Headmaster makes quite the impression. But it's tough to get in. Have you made any inquiries?"

Will nods his head slowly. "Yeah. I had a... an interview with my son a few weeks ago. I guess it wouldn't be a good time to use you as a reference then?" He tries to make light of the last comment.

I shake my head, smiling grimly. "Probably not. I'll let you know if an opportunity arises, of course."

"Thanks."

I sit there and start to feel uncomfortable with the growing silence between us. Without a word, we both stand and start back to the shower for one more rinse. After a quick wave, I get in my car and head home. Now reminded of the Headmaster as well as how many other members of the school were affected, I make up my mind to try to smooth things out before Sally returns. That is, if she was ever going to get back. I look up at my pager and see no messages. Man, I need to get one of those new Blackberrys. They're expensive as hell, but wouldn't it be nice to call someone at any time? I'd just have to wait until I got home.

A few minutes later, I'm on the phone with the parents of those two boys. After a short conversation with both of them, everything seems to be settled. Funny how if boys are out doing this, it's all okay. They even apologized to me, even though it was mostly Sally's fault.

Hanging up, I stare at the phone. Now the toughie. Slowly, I dial Mr. Stuart's number. After two rings, I take a long breath and prepare. It goes to four. Five. Maybe not... Click.

"Hello, Mr. Montgomery."

That's a cold greeting. "Ah, yes. Mr. Stuart. I was wondering if I could come over; to apologize for everything."

"I see." The line is silent for a moment. "If you wish to, then; of course."

"Thank you, Mr. Stuart. "I'll be over soon."

Hanging up, I jump back in my car. Entering the pull-through driveway of the nice home, I step out, trying to keep my nervousness under control. Steeling myself, I walk up to the front door and press the bell. It isn't long until I could see the shape of Mr. Stuart through the frosted glass as he opens the door. "Mr. Montgomery," is all he says in his baritone voice.

I don't reach out to shake his hand. With both our daughters knowing each other, we had become a bit more than acquaintances; but far from friends. Right now, under his cold stare, it seems unlikely we would ever be. "Could I come in?"

The grim man nods. Leading me through the entryway, he turns into a small home office. Just as I follow Mr. Stuart inside, I catch something out of the corner of my eye. Looking upward, I glimpse a young lady with auburn hair standing near the top of the stairs, staring down at me. In an instant, she turns and flees out of sight.

The owner of the house closes the office door behind him and turns to me. At about six foot and with a shock of mostly red hair, the man did stand out in a crowd. I didn't waste any time with formalities. "I'm so sorry this happened, Mr. Stuart. I can't convey how embarrassed I am to be in this situation."

The father of Sally's friend studies me for a moment. "I understand," he finally says. "And I accept your apology. It took guts to come up here."

I inwardly sigh. "I'm also sorry that Sally couldn't come and apologize to you as well."

The man tilts his head. "I wondered about that. Isn't she with you?"

I put it as delicately as I can. I wasn't sure how much the Headmaster and this man would talk about something like this. "She is on...er, probation, right now."

Mr. Stuart looks surprised. "Not expelled? After what she's done?"

I grimace. Thinking carefully about what I can say, I try again. "Believe me. I thought she would be. I want you to know that even as we speak, Sally is undergoing a harsh punishment."

"Really?" Mr. Stuart leans against his desk. "Will she learn her lesson?"

I'm taken off-stride by the question. "I... I hope so. If not, then I've been told she would not return."

Mr. Stuart gives a small shrug. "I guess I'll take it up with the Headmaster Monday. We have a meeting scheduled already. So that you know, I've already punished Susan, and she'll make up her work at school over the next week."

For a moment, I wonder what that punishment was. Mr. Stuart did look like a no-nonsense kind of man. I try not to look uncomfortable. "Umm... Yes, I'm sure. Well, I don't want to waste any more of your time..."

The red-haired man interrupts me. "Before you go, Mr. Montgomery, it's only fair that you receive an apology as well."

"You shouldn't apologize, Mr. Stuart."

"Not from me. From my daughter, of course." The man opens the door and heads for the foot of the stairs. "Susan! Could you come down here?"

At first, there's no response. Then I could hear soft footsteps as Susan comes back into view. "Sir?" She asks timidly.

Mr. Stuart frowns. "I said come down here! This instant!" It's not quite a yell but more of a firm command.

The teen nods reluctantly. "Yes, sir." As she starts down, I notice she's wearing much the same clothes as she did at my house. A tight crop top, athletic shorts that hug her hips, and some ankle socks. She isn't doing very much for her modesty. Then, unbidden, I remember how I last saw her. Shivering next to the pool with no top on, with me standing before her. She had covered up real quick after I'd come out, but I'd seen more than enough from the house. Even now, with her tight shirt on, I can easily see the shape of her smaller breasts. They stand out quite a bit on her petite... Mentally chastising myself, I try to stop thinking about it as the younger woman reaches the bottom of the stairs. The girl looks really uncomfortable. Her pale freckles stand out on her small nose as she glances at both her father and me.