How to Slay a Beast (Book 1)

Chapter 18

"Hi, I wanted to talk to you about one of the teachers you have here," Mr. Gates said, sitting down in the chair in my office. I put down my lunch wearily. The man's son just died I could hardly turn him out on his ear.

"Yes, of course," I said, smiling and sitting back down looking wistfully at my lunch bag and backpack, sitting ready to go home. Yes I was just eating lunch before going home. That was how my day had gone.

"Mr. Breeden---I think he teaches history or English? Something like that?" he asked.

"Yes, he teaches ELA for the 7th and 8th grades, Marielle has been with him two years now," I said, nodding.

"How---how much do you know about him?" he asked.

"He's taught with us for fifteen years now," I said. "What seems to be the matter?"

"I heard some things---I don't think it's appropriate he be teaching---don't you do background checks of all employees?" he asked.

"Yes, none of our teachers have a criminal background," I said, calmly, "Mr. Breeden has an impeccable record here. The students all have nothing but good to say about him, I know Marielle has enjoyed her classes with him."

"Yeah---no—no my concern was mental health, as well as criminal record—I know you would have checked but my company has an excellent service, you know---I'm concerned of course my daughter going here," he put a file on my desk, "I'd like it if you took a look."

I opened up the papers. Involuntary admission to a mental health unit a couple of years before he came to Gilmer.

"Mental health, when well managed, is not a reason to deny employment," I said, wondering if Richard was taking the medication for schizophrenia. I didn't think so. In fact I was sure he wasn't. 

"There's more," he said, "Keep reading."

I flipped to the next page. It's case notes---his arrest at the age of nine. Three counts of first degree murder. Plea? Insanity. Recommended for inpatient care, placed in a state hospital for ten years.

"I'd suggest you leave," I said, closing the file.

"What?" clearly Mr. Gates was not used to people saying no to him.

"If you are concerned about the quality of education your daughter is getting, then feel free to disenroll her," I said, going to the door, "And I would appreciate it if you did not use your position to pry into the personal lives of our employees."

"You don't care?" he asked, standing up, slowly.

"On the contrary I care very much, now, if you would please leave?" I asked, holding the door. He stared at me for a moment, then walked out.

I closed the door, with a sigh, staring at the file on the desk. Not one shred of information about a terrified little boy.

"Hey, kid, where are you going?" I asked, slowing my car. He was walking along the side of the road, wearing a tattered t-shirt, and blood stained shorts. It looked like he'd pissed himself, mixed with blood. There were bruises on his face.

"I'm trying to go home," he said, "I'm lost."

"Come on in, I'll help you find your parents," I said. he opened the car door and got in, the front seat. Staring at me. I could see insects crawling in his matted hair. 

"You're not going to hurt me are you?" he asked.

"No, no I'm not," I said, trying to think of where the police station was. This was before cell phones were common and I didn't have one. "I'm going to help you go home."