The Capitol building in Albany had a gothic air, four stories of cathedral-style windows, grey stone under a blue shingled roof. Like a lot of Albany, it shared Manhattan’s sense of grandeur and mystique, without sharing its almost suffocating traffic and congestion. The early spring sky was bluer, cleaner, filling Lorraine’s lungs, tickling the back of her nostrils with the smells of her college years in Denver; oleander and poplar, a heady and rustic scent.

Casper Newkirk leaned back in his leather chair at the head of the long conference table, shaking his head as he dropped a manilla folder onto the table in front of him. With his round, white head and heavy set torso, he looked to Lorraine like a balding egg in a suit, Humpty Dumpty come to life. Lorraine and the rest of the members of the staff looked on in tense silence. Everybody knew what was on the agenda, and which way the decision was going to go.

“We’re down for another straight quarter,” he said, his voice surprisingly high in pitch, almost womanly, despite his big body and swollen throat. “Test scores throughout the state are down by … what is it? Seven percent.”

A sad silence took over the table, Lorraine glancing at the quiet men and women in the room, all of them sharing one thing Lorraine did not share. They needed to keep their jobs, and that ensured their silence.

Treena Torasco looked at their boss Casper, but her eyes kept shooting across the table at Lorraine, as they often seemed to do. She didn’t know precisely what Treena’s problem was, but she knew it could be one of any number of things.

Lorraine glanced back at Treena, who turned away immediately and kept her eyes on Casper.

He shrugged his hunched shoulders. “I just don’t see that we have much of a choice. We gotta take it outta the staffing.”

Lorraine said, “Casper, if I may … ” Casper turned to Lorraine with a fake smile and crooked eyebrows, but he did not disallow her from speaking. Lorraine went on, “If we keep firing teachers, how are the kids’ scores going to go up?”

“Luckily, Mrs. Phoenix, we’ve got your PEEC project learning center, and it’s not really having the kind of positive effects we’d all hoped for.”

One corner of Lorraine’s mouth curved up, digging into her cheek. “We only have one in New York, in Harlem, and I think you’ll find grades are up in that area, while truancy and crime among minors is down. They’ve had great results in other cities, too; Denver, Los Angeles, Seattle — ”

“I didn't mean to insult you,” Casper said. “But this isn’t really about your learning centers.”

“Then why did you bring them up?” The table fell silent, and Lorraine could sense the fear in the eyes of the others department heads. “How much more cutting can you do to the faculties in our schools? Music and arts are long gone. And we all know you’re not going to cut the sports teams — ”

“Of course not,” Casper said, some of the others chuckling into their hands, Treena included. “You know very well that the entire pro ball industry relies on the public high schools. Without them, there would be no college ball, and then no pro ball either. We’re talking about billions of dollars, countless people all over the country whose lives rely upon that industry.”

“Okay, I get that — ”

“Not to mention the kids. Your learning centers are fine and dandy, but pro ball is the only way a lot of these kids are going to get out of the ghettos.”

Lorraine felt her eyes flash angrily, focusing on keeping a calm, professional tone. “That’s where you’re wrong, Casper. First of all, only a tiny fraction of kids who play high school ball go on to college or pro leagues, between one and seven percent! What kind of success rate is that? We’re preparing almost one-hundred percent of those kids for abject failure and degradation, not to mention a lifetime of unemployment, plus brain damage, spinal injury … ”

“It’s not just pro careers, but the educations they get. College athletes get scholarships — ”

“Casper, those educations are worthless and you know it, and they’re fake! Those kids graduate without any of the skills they supposedly studied, and no skills to get them through life.” Lorraine asserted. A long and tense silence passed. Casper shrugged exasperated. “We can’t just reinvent the whole system.”

Lorraine gave it some thought, Treena staring at her and then shaking her head in disapproval. “Okay,” Lorraine said, “we need high school football players, that’s fine. Do we need cheerleaders and a marching band? Not that I want to cut music, but … better that than firing all the English teachers and just plopping some nothing-to-do football coach behind the desk reading Sports Illustrated while the kids are struggling through The Great Gatsby. Casper, we’re graduating kids who can’t find Russia on the map. Some of them can’t find the state they live in!”

“Missus Phoenix,” Casper hollered, his thin voice cracking with his gathering rage, “that will be quite enough! I want ten percent of the faculty cut from the budget in one week. In fact, Mrs. Phoenix, perhaps this is a project you’d like to take on personally.”

Lorraine leaned back in near disbelief. “You want me to review the faculty and staff of every public school in the state … and decide who to fire? That’ll take more than a week.”

“Miss Torasco will work with you,” he said. “Take two weeks and split the files. You can work from home, as usual. Confer with each other on the candidates and then bring them to me. I’ll make the final choices myself.”

Lorraine sat there with a cold chill running down her spine, hairs standing up on the back of her neck.

* * *

Jeremy Bush Le Deux sat on the living room floor of the Phoenix’s Fifth Avenue penthouse apartment, big and airy and spacious. His brown hair was getting longer, in contrast to both Lorraine and Kayla’s short red hair.

Kayla was surrounded by toy horses and unicorns and they had her full attention. But, Jeremy was more interested in talking about Lorraine’s struggles with the Education Department.

“What’re you gonna do, Lo’?” he asked sympathetically.

Lorraine sighed, shaking her head. “I dunno. I have to be the one to decide who gets fired, or even which candidates get chopped.”

“Shoulda’ kept your head down,” Jeremy lectured, “kept quiet.”

“I don’t do that anymore,” Lorraine said. “That’s the old me.”

“I know, I know. And I’m glad for everything your risks have brought you, Lo’. And what they’ve brought me, too! Without you and Griffin, I wouldn’t have this great job, probably wouldn’t have any job at all … never mind Anton. How would I ever have gotten to Jamaica if it weren’t for your generosity?”

“You took your own risks, Jer, and you deserve your own rewards. But those teachers deserve theirs, too.”

After a moment, Jeremy considered, “Are you sure it’s about that, and not … y’know … ”

“No, I don’t know.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s part of this whole thing you’re doing now, the whole rebel thing.”

“The whole rebel thing? Jeremy, I’m not some teenager going through a phase!”

They shared a little chuckle, but it didn’t last. “No, but you have become … willful, let’s say. With the library rally, your learning centers, maybe it’s just becoming kind of a reflex, y’know? Buck the system, all that.” Lorraine didn’t have to give that very much thought, but she remained politely quiet. Jeremy went on, “Also, well, there’s the librarian schtick, too.”

“Schtick? Jeremy, I’m not just playing games here. I want to help these kids, and they need help! We all need for them to get it, too, or we’ll have nothing but a world of bonehead jocks and burnt out ex-high school cheerleaders.”

“You see? There you go. Lorraine, I know you love books and things, the library, and that’s great. But, it’s pretty clear that you don’t care much for jocks, and that’s okay, too. Hey, when I was in high school I was a musical theater nerd, so I totally get it.” he explained.

“No, Jeremy, I don’t have any grudge against the football teams, I just don’t think it’s fair to the other kids, and it’s not efficient or beneficial to the kids or to our society.”

“Okay, okay,” Jeremy said, “as long as you know what you’re doing … and why.”

“Well, I do know why … but the what has still got me. I can’t just go along with their agenda. I can’t … and I won’t.”

“Then what will you do?” Jeremy probed.

Lorraine’s brain began to pound with the effort to pull up an easy solution, an effective plan of attack. But she could only think of one.

Gotta talk to Griffin.