Jim sat rigidly in the cramped school board conference room, clutching the arms of his chair until his knuckles blanched. Around the long table sat the superintendent, several principals, and district administrators. Their grave faces bore down on Jim.
Superintendent McCray cleared his throat officiously. "Let's get right to it then. We have, shall we say, a public relations disaster on our hands regarding certain tragic events at Stratford High and a disturbing perpetrator theory making the media rounds."
Jim bristled but remained silent as McCray continued. "Now, we understand you were under immense stress, Mr. Norman. Grief can provoke all manner of delusions." His tone dripped with condescension veiled as sympathy.
"But for the wellbeing of our district and students, we cannot allow rumors of supernatural killers and nonsense about resurrected hoodlums from the 50s to persist," McCray concluded. "Surely you understand our position."
The carefully coded request hung in the tense air. Jim saw the grave faces around the table subtly leaning in, willing him to comply and save them further headaches. Jaw clenched, he regarded each administrator coolly before responding.
"With all due respect, denying the truth does more harm than good. Parents and students have a right to know what evil walked freely in these halls and what failures allowed it." Jim kept his voice steady through sheer force of will.
McCray's paternalistic smile grew strained. "Let's not make rash judgments just yet. The authorities have yet to provide conclusive findings about, well, your rather inventive theories. We mustn't spread unfounded rumors."
Jim shook his head. "The only rumor is that those students' deaths were an animal attack. I witnessed firsthand who - or what - killed them. Sweeping this under the rug betrays anyone else in danger."
Shifting uncomfortably as Jim stood his ground, the administrators glanced at McCray. The superintendent carefully composed his features into a more understanding mien.
"Mr. Norman, we know you've been under tremendous strain..." He reached across the table imploringly. "Take some time to recover from your ordeal. When you're in a better state of mind, we can revisit things."
Jim stepped back, chin raised with quiet conviction. "My state of mind is quite clear. I'll shout the truth from the rooftops if I must."
Leaving the sputtering, red-faced men behind, Jim walked out shoulders unbowed. The greasers' evil had thrived in silence and complacency for too long. No more. Jim sat tense as a coiled spring, trying not to betray his disgust at the ludicrous proceedings. Around the polished conference table, the school board members nodded along sycophantically as Superintendent McCray outlined the official statement denying any supernatural elements to the tragedy at Stratford High.
"Now, the public can accept sometimes terrible accidents happen," McCray intoned, his smile slick as oil. "But deranged killers rising from the grave? That's beyond the pale."
The board members tittered nervously. One mousy administrator piped up, "But sir, how do we explain the, er, rather savage nature of the poor students' remains?"
McCray waved a dismissive hand. "A freak animal attack. Rabid dogs or some such. The public doesn't need all the gory details - that only spreads panic."
Jim's fists clenched beneath the table. Covering up the horrific truth about resurrected psychos to preserve the school's precious reputation made his stomach churn.
Oblivious to Jim's disgust, the superintendent concluded, "So we're all in agreement? The official statement labels this an animal attack, deflects any rumors of supernatural killers, and puts parents' minds at ease."
YOU ARE READING
Jim's haunted past
HorrorJim nervously starts his new teaching job at Stratford High School. He sees teenagers Richard, Vinnie, and David who look just like his brother Wayne's killers.
