Autumn in Philadelphia Trilogy

The Return: Now What?

"When it comes to the past, everyone writes fiction."

― Stephen King

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First thing Thursday morning, Jon met with Cory at the District Office and accompanied him to John Quincy Adams Junior High. It surprised Jon to see the young teacher look so worn down and depressed. That simply wasn't the Cory he knew. He'd never seen the man not look forward to going to his classroom.

When they reached the entrance to the junior high school, Cory came to a sudden halt and refused to move. He stared, unblinkingly, at the doors to the school, pale and scared.

"C'mon, Matthews," Jon cajoled, taking a hold of his jacket cuff and tugging. "I'm goin' with you."

"I don't wanna." His gaze was still transfixed on the door.

The superintendent was baffled by this behavior. "Matthews?" he asked with concern.

"I can't take it, Jon." Cory's eyes were wide and unfocused. "I can't take another day of being made out to be an incompetent idiot in front of my students. Or," he gulped, "their parents."

"Parents, too? When?"

"Yesterday. Every single one of my kids' parents were brought down and Pennington read my list of sins out in front of them."

"Minkus, too?"

Cory blinked once. "Minkus, too."

"Did he say anythin' to you?"

"I think?" he said in a question because he couldn't remember. "He said something and looked sympathetic. I dunno."

Jon raised his eyebrows in an expression of incredulity. He put his hands on his waist and took a deep breath.

"You know you're not an incompetent idiot, Cory," he tried to encourage the younger man. "I wouldn't have hired you as a teacher if you were."

"I'm becoming one," he said solemnly.

Jon stared at him, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Cory. C'mon. This isn't like you."

"It's true," the younger man looked through him with haunted eyes. "Every day I'm becoming more like they say I am. I can't remember lesson plans. I've forgotten basic classroom management. My kid and Maya had to help me get through yesterday's class. I couldn't think of what I was supposed to do, what I was supposed to say. Maya practically taught the class about the Revolutionary War while I stood there drooling."

Jon arched an eyebrow at the teacher wondering how much he was exaggerating as Cory could be overly dramatic at times. At the same time, he couldn't forget what Audrey discovered about past students and teachers under the Remingtons. He had a strong feeling that the Penningtons were cut from the same cloth.

"So," he said with slight sarcasm, hoping to snap Cory out of his fugue. "Was Maya's teachin' any good? Or accurate?"

Cory looked at him and blinked. "I think?"

The uncertainty in his answer and that blank stare worried Jon. "Well, it's an unorthodox way of teachin' a notoriously unteachable student. But you know me- whatever works."

Cory returned his stare to the front doors. "She can't teach every class."

"Right," Jon said. He took the younger man by the arm and led him inside.

Immediately, the superintendent knew there was something wrong. First, there were no students or staff loitering in the halls and at that time of morning the before school crowd should have been everywhere. Second, he and Cory were greeted by armed security guards he'd never seen before.