Lester of Two Evils

Thin Ice

Mae was up and outside before the last echoes of the organ had completely faded. She didn't necessarily mind Sunday church services, the singing was nice, and some of the stories with their fire and brimstone weren't half bad. It was the flowery dresses her mother insisted she wear that she couldn't stand, and she was eager to get back home and into a comfortable t-shirt and jeans.

Shielding her eyes from the rising sun, Mae hurried down the wide front steps. The rest of the congregation would soon come streaming out the double doors behind her. She needed to find a quiet, out-of-the-way place to wait for her parents. Raised in the south, her mother and father wielded an aggressive form of hospitality that tended to startle the more reserved northerners. Even so, their enthusiasm remained undaunted. For the next half hour, Mr. and Mrs. Chase would be busy glad-handing and chatting over coffee and donuts to anyone who would listen. Mae intended to make herself scarce until it was time to go.

It wasn't that the residents of Giles Hollow hadn't been welcoming. Since their move, a never-ending stream of neighbors had been dropping by their house with baked goods. While Mae was happy to see her parents making friends, sometimes she needed a break. Strangers tended to stare upon seeing her with her family for the first time. She'd watch their confused looks slowly brighten as they solved a very obvious puzzle. Then they'd shake her hand with a sympathetic expression, all the while wondering what tragedy of her birth had led to her adoption. She knew people meant well, but it had already been a busy morning, and her supply of polite smiles was near exhaustion.

Stepping around the back of the church, Mae stopped short.

Thomas, the new kid from school with the silly hair, was standing in a wedge of shade cast by the building's towering steeple, and he wasn't alone. Dressed in a crisp white button-up blouse and a long black skirt, Lester's red-headed math teacher looked every inch the stern disciplinarian, even outside of school. The two of them were deep in conversation, and neither noticed Mae's approach.

"Don't be in such a hurry," Mrs. Q was saying. "You've only just arrived. Give it time."

"I don't remember asking for your advice," replied Thomas brusquely. "And I don't need your help. I can handle this on my own."

"No one is suggesting you can't," said Mrs. Q. "Just that your efforts might benefit from a certain amount of finesse."

"That's a bit rich, coming from you," Thomas said.

Mae knew she should go, that eavesdropping wasn't polite, but she'd never heard a student talk to a teacher this way. Was Mrs. Q giving the new kid tips on making friends and fitting in? If so, Mae thought he was probably right to question the source of the advice. Still, Mrs. Q was a formidable woman, and Thomas acted as though they were equals. Even more surprising, the typically gruff teacher hadn't batted an eye.

A wave of distant voices came from the front of the church, and Mae glanced behind her as the familiar sound of her mother's laughter rose above the others. Then, turning back around, she let out a small shriek.

"Can I help you with something, Ms. Chase?" Mrs. Q asked.

She and Thomas had stopped talking and were both staring at her.

"Um — no, thanks," Mae said, wondering why she suddenly felt as if she'd done something wrong. "I'm just waiting for my ride."

"In that case," said Mrs. Q, "I doubt very much that they'll find you back here."

More than one student at Giles Hollow Elementary had withered under the woman's infamous piercing glare, confessing to things they'd had no part in simply to escape it. With the teacher's full attention trained on her, Mae could understand why.