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Chapter 2
“You are responsible for this, Miss Berry.” The tall, thin woman standing across from Grace Berry’s desk raised the paperback book as if it were a gavel she was about to slam down in judgement. “How is a teenaged boy supposed to take this kind of thing seriously? You’re corrupting him!”
Grace attempted to control her anger with a deep breath. In her four years of teaching Literature and Poetry at Bliss Cove High School, she’d dealt with many parent complaints about their children’s grades and assignments—far more frequently than she ever had in her three previous years at a now-closed rural school—but this was the first time a parent had accused her of outright “corruption.”
“Mrs. Oliver.” She forced a calming note into her voice. “We have been discussing Aphra Behn’s writings within the context of a tradition that—”
“The history of poetry is not in question here, Miss Berry,” interrupted Hank Spruce, the principal of Bliss Cove High. “Your assignmentsare. Mrs. Oliver claims your excessive workload combined with the content of the plays and poems is having a severely detrimental effect on her son’s mental health.”
“Listen to this!” Mrs. Oliver opened the book to a heavily dog-eared page. “‘Down there we sat upon the moss / And did begin to play / A thousand amorous tricks, to pass / The heat of all the day.’”
“That poem is part of a play in which—”
“‘A many kisses he did give,’” Mrs. Oliver continued loudly. “‘And I return'd the same / Which made me willing to receive / That which I dare not name.’What is this, an instruction manual?”
She threw the book on Grace’s desk with such force that it knocked over her pen holder.
“Miss Berry, Mrs. Oliver’s contention about the effects of your assignments on her son is a very serious charge, indeed.” Spruce eyed her narrowly.
“I recognize that, which is why I insist upon responding.” Grace straightened the pencil holder with a sharp thud. “First, Mrs. Oliver, I have contacted you numerous times over the year about Todd’s lack of participation in class and his failure to turn in his assignments. The analysis of an Aphra Behn poem is just one of many papers Todd hasn’t written. He did complete a paper about Ophelia and Hamlet last week—”
“That’s another thing.” Mrs. Oliver lifted her finger. “What is all that business aboutliquid dewandyielding bodies? What, exactly, are you teaching these children?”
Grace ground her teeth together. “Unfortunately, I found out Todd’s paper had been taken word-for-word from a blog post written by a university student.”
She didn’t bother adding that she’d found the plagiarism because Todd had yet to exhibit either the desire or the capability of writing a full sentence, much less an insightful essay about Shakespeare’s views of gender and subjectivity through Ophelia’s character.
Which actually made little sense, considering the boy was doing quite well in all his other classes. Grace was still struggling to figure out why she was the one teacher who’d been unable to get through to him.
“Well, what’s wrong with getting some help from the internet?” Mrs. Oliver snapped. “He did the assignment, didn’t he? And he has an extremely busy schedule what with baseball practice and planning for his summer trip to Europe, so it is entirely unfair of you to pile all this extra work on him so late in the school year.”
“I’m giving Todd the opportunity to make up the lessons he’s missed all year so he won’t fail my class,” Grace replied crisply. “If he’d done them when they were assigned, he wouldn’t have so many to complete now.”
“It’s hardly a wonder he didn’t finish them when they were due.” Mrs. Oliver pokedThe Works of Aphra Behnas if it were a cockroach. “You should be banned from teaching this kind of material. Frankly, I never expected such an inappropriate education from this high school.”
“If it’s a question of content, I would be willing to provide Todd with another assignment on a different poem.”
“It’s a question of everything!” Mrs. Oliver raised her hands like goalposts. “You are failing my son, Miss Berry, and because of you and your bad influence, he will be put on academic probation. Do you know what that means? He won’t be able to play football next fall. That is hissenior year. Do you really want to be responsible for destroying Todd’s life during his last year of high school? Not to mention the team’s quest for the regional championship?”
“Mrs. Oliver, Todd is our top player,” Principal Spruce said ingratiatingly. “Coach Roberts was just in my office last week discussing this issue because we know how badly the team needs him.”
“Yes, we’ve already informed Coach Roberts that if Todd doesn’t meet the academic requirements, he’s welcome to blame Miss Berry,” Mrs. Oliver said.
Grace’s jaw hurt from the effort of controlling her temper. “I am doing everything I can to help Todd, but I won’t give him a passing grade unless he earns it.”
“You aren’t giving him credit for his work, and you’re forcing him to read morally repugnant so-called poetry.” Mrs. Oliver turned to glare at the principal. “Do you really intend to continue to allow Miss Berry to run her classroom like this?”
Spruce gave her a placating smile. “Of course not.”
“Because I’m quite certain the school board will be interested to find out just how badly she’s corrupting her students. My husband is good friends with the superintendent, I’ll have you know.”
“We certainly won’t hold Todd responsible for the poetry assignment,” Spruce said in an unctuous tone. “Will you accept a letter of apology from Miss Berry, along with a promise to take this female poet out of her curriculum?”
Grace’s mouth dropped open. “I am not going to—”
“That would be a start.” Mrs. Oliver picked up her purse. “But I’ll have to speak with my husband about whether it will be enough or whether we’re going to the board.”
“I’m certain we can work this out.” Spreading his arms, Principal Spruce escorted her to the door. “I assure you I’ll personally handle the situation.”
