Teaching Elementary, My Dear Watson

18 - Thanksgiving or Not

18

Thanksgiving or Not

Monday, November 21

A rare major rainstorm in Southern California demanded Kevin's attention. Lightning flashed, then several seconds later, thunder boomed, so fortunately, the danger was many miles distant. Kevin carefully rode his Honda on streets covered with sheets of water, trying not to let his worry about Monica affect his concentration on the rain-slicked pavement. Each time he turned, he slowed way down, since the intersections held deeper pools of water. This was not the day to have an accident. Kevin had enough issues right now.

He arrived at school, covered his cycle, used cords to keep the tarp from blowing away, and headed for his room. He wasn't as early as usual. He'd made sure he left after sunrise so he could see the streets clearly on his commute. He finished his usual preparation and felt a knot in his stomach.

Is this morning a metaphor: dark, wet, and foreboding? Why didn't she phone? Could I call her again now? I should have done so from home. The school won't let me make a long-distance call without authorization. I can imagine what Mr. Smith would think of my need to find out about my wife that way.

So Kevin soldiered on. Students arrived, and school news was announced over the PA (public address) system. Then the principal arrived. It was an unscheduled observation of his language arts lesson.

Remember to make Brendan's reading group one of the first with me today. Can't afford to have another restroom and vomit combination. What else? Choose a passage for Alfonso that increases his chance for success when it's his turn to read aloud. Anything else?

Kevin taught as best he could despite his worries about Monica. He felt nervous, not on his game, but he plowed forward. What else was there to do?

An hour later, Mr. Smith departed without a word. Didn't say anything about the cross-country team, nor about how the groups progressed without a hitch. He won't change. I need to stop expecting anything from him. Was it Einstein's observation? Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result. Let it go.

Just before noon, he got a call from the office clerk. The secretary said Kevin's wife had left a message. The rain meant no practice for the cross country team today, so Kevin had time at lunch to go pick up the note.

*****

Kevin,

I am so sorry. Neither Larisa nor I was able to reach you on Friday, and I was so busy with work over the weekend that I didn't find out until this morning that you didn't get the message. I thought you knew. Didn't mean to make you worry. Please forgive me. I love you.

-Monica.

*****

Kevin read the note with a mixture of relief and upset. He was grateful that she was okay. He was hurt that her lack of communication put him through so much unnecessary grief. Should I ask the school secretary how Monica sounded on the phone? No, it wouldn't make any difference. Don't want to add to the soap opera.

The rest of the day for Kevin was a haze. He rode home after work in the thunderstorm, not feeling the rain, noticing neither the thunder nor the lightning. He crawled into bed, unsure of what to do. He must have napped for a while. The phone was ringing. He got up and moved to the table to pick up the receiver.

"Uh, hello."

"Hello? Oh, Kevin, I'm glad to talk to you. So sorry you didn't get any message on Friday. I feel awful. My darling, are you alright? Did you get the message I left today? I didn't hear from you, and I felt frantic."