After School

[Mrs. Debbie Wittman] October - Tuesday - 4:23 p.m.

[Mrs. Debbie Wittman]

October – Tuesday – 4:23 p.m.

Debbie’s arms were crossed; she was tapping her left elbow with the tips of her right fingers. “You don’t have a lot of money left Mrs. Atkins.”

“I’m sure you can pull some strings. These children are expecting a big, BIG, production this year.”

Debbie looked around to a few students building the 3D sets. No one was paying attention to the conversation. No matter how dramatic Mrs. Atkins was being.

“You’re just going to have to pull your own strings.” Debbie realized she might regret saying that. She explained further to Mrs. Atkins that there isn’t enough money for everyone and that she can only allocate the remaining funds to the programs that need it. “Look, the bottom line is you just need to figure it out. You can get the money by fundraising or asking for donations. Just don’t go overboard. I know you have a history of extortion, I just don’t have any evidence for it.”

“Extortion!” Mrs. Atkins feigned a faint. One of the female students looked over. Debbie could swear she rolled her eyes at over dramatic outburst.

Debbie threw her hands in the air and made her out of the drama room. She was tired of Mrs. Atkins and her begging for money. Constant cuts, furloughs, shorter school hours, less classes, and more students in every room were more important than Mrs. Atkins’s production costs. Schools all over the state were struggling and its people like Mrs. Atkins that were the cause. The greed of some people, Debbie thought as she made her through the halls.

Being a principal was getting harder and harder. She just wanted to get to her office, finish looking over some evaluations a second time, and go home. Debbie stopped for a bit to rub a spot in her neck. It was a tension brought on by the stress of her job. In the morning she wakes with it and at night she sleeps with it. Sometimes it would get to a point where a deep tissue massages from her husband wouldn’t work. She turned a bit, stretching herself in the process. Taking a big breath and letting out a bigger sigh, she continued on to her office. As she placed one foot onward, she narrowly missed bumping into someone.

“Excu- Oh, Eric.”

“Good-afternoon, Mrs. Wittman.” He had his hands tightly wrapped around the strap of his canvas bag.

“My apologies, I must have startled you.”

“No need for apologies. I was quite surprised, but I must take some credit. I wasn’t looking ahead of me.”

Eric was a gentleman through and though, and Debbie wished more men were like him. “Are you on your way to Mrs. Atkins?” Debbie asked.

“Not really, just wondering about.” He loosed up a bit. “Is there something I should know?”

“That woman is just driving me nuts. It’s a non-stop need for more and more money. No matter how much I keep telling her that she has only a set amount of money, she keeps asking for more and more.” Debbie’s stress came spewing out in an uncontrollable rant. Her pace got faster with each word that came out of her mouth. “I mean, does she not know the value of money? So what is she was on T.V. It was only a few small rolls back in the 70’s. It doesn’t mean she’s an Oscar winner of anything. I just want to make it easier for everyone. I’ve already set aside some funds for a just-in-case situation. Do you even know how we get money?” She didn’t even wait for Eric to answer. “Standardized tests issued by the state. That’s how. The better we do the more money we get. Last year we were in the tenth percentile. Tenth! But thanks to the idiots in the school boards we got cut. All they want is more money in their pockets. I’ve already had to fork over a few hundred dollars of my own money to buy supplies for the front office. I don’t know if I can deal with any more of this. And Mrs. Atkins is the disgusting cherry on the top of everything. She wants more money for a music collaborator— director— or something— whatever…”

Debbie felt like pulling out her hair. She then had a revelation.”You, you can help me.” She pointed at Eric. “Mrs. Atkins still needs someone to take care of the music. I’m sure she might ask you along the line, if she isn’t able to blackmail someone idiot. I… I mean we can beat her to the punch. You would be working close with the students and her. You have the experience and you are extremely talented. Plus, she won’t have to ask me for money if you are the one directing the music. That basically eliminates a third party.” She leaned in closer to Eric. “You can spy for me as well. Tell me what she’s up to and what she is doing. I need to know how she gets everyone to do things for her. You would be the perfect spy for me.” Debbie leaned back with a slight grin. “Are you in?”

Eric gave her his famous smile that wooed every girl in school. Every time he did that it made her wish she was younger and not married. “I’ll do anything to you wish me to Debbie. I’ve always wanted to be like James Bond.”

“Well you do have his handsome charm.” Debbie lightly laughed.