Chapter 29
Beau
Walking the empty halls, I felt a lump stuck in my throat. These halls had welcomed me when I first arrived from France, seven months ago. Heart-broken and uncertain, these halls had helped me heal, but now they ripped me apart. Classes were already in session which I was glad for since I didn’t bump into any kids on the way to the administrative area. The first face I saw was Rebecca's. She glanced up from her computer and by the way she looked away, I knew this couldn’t be anything good. Not that I expected any good to come from this meeting. I didn’t think I would be able to find a voice of reason within these walls. Principal McLean had already appointed himself as judge, jury, and executioner. Remembering his offensive words to me the day he’d placed me on administrative leave, he had already tried this case and found me guilty. Of loving someone. The idea was so preposterous, I had to stifle the hysterical laughter that threatened to bubble up from my throat.
“Mr. Moreau, how are you?” Rebecca asked, shuffling papers on her desk that she did not need.
“That depends,” I answered. “I was asked to be present for a meeting at ten.”
She nodded. “The Principal and some members of the board are conversing now. You can have a seat, and I’ll let you know as soon as they are ready for you.”
“Thank you.”
I took a seat in the otherwise empty waiting area and pretended not to notice the looks I was attracting from the women who worked in the administrative office. It was unnerving, to say the least, and I hated every second of the thirty minutes I had to sit quietly and wait for my summons. I was so nervous I absentmindedly took out my phone and started to auto-dial Gordon before I caught on to what I was doing. I ended the call before the ringing could start. Though I had a strong urge to call him, the last thing I wanted to do was add to his burden. He was already devastated by the son he still couldn’t locate.
The door to the office pushed open, and I stared in surprise to see Adam Lacove walk out. His steps faltered when he saw me, and he hung his head and avoided my eyes. Unease spread through me. Just what the hell was Principal Jackson planning to do? There was no coincidence involved in Adam being here at the same time I was.
“Adam,” Stephanie called to the teenager. “Knock, then go right in.”
I barely refrained from climbing to my feet to ask what the hell was going on. After another fifteen minutes, the door to the principal’s office opened, and Adam walked out, Principal McLean behind him. I straightened up in my chair and watched the interplay.
“Thanks for coming forward, Adam,” the Principal stated, squeezing the boy’s shoulder. “Now run along to your class, and we’ll take care of the rest.”
I stared at the boy as he passed me. I wanted to ask him what transpired in the office but the principal watched me, daring me to make a move. At the door leading outside the office, the boy stopped and glanced back at me. His face was white, his eyes full of remorse as he disappeared, closing the door behind him.
“Mr. Moreau.” The Principal turned his attention to me. “We are ready for you. Come on in.”
I wanted to take the same route Adam had but instead moved stiffly into the office. Principal Jackson entered behind me and closed the door. I paused once inside of the room, taking in the four members of the board who were present. I didn’t remember their names. After all, I’d only met them once during my appointment and even so, only two of the four I had met then, the PTA president and the chairman, Mr. Gayle.
“Mr. Moreau, thanks for joining us,” the principal said. He then gave a brief introduction, but I didn’t retain any of the names he had called. My heart was lodged in my throat, and I was fighting down the panic that had risen in my throat. I would try to be optimistic until I had cause to think otherwise.
“I’ll allow our chairman to speak,” he ended.
Mr. Gayle contemplated me with one end of his glasses in his mouth. He was a senior in his fifties and seeing his frown, I figured I was doomed.
“Mr. Moreau, our school is built upon strong moral foundation and principles,” Mr. Gayle stated. “What we expose our children to is what they become. While we have no personal issues with your sexual orientation, the fact is that you tried to instruct your student into this controversial lifestyle.”
I blinked at him in surprise. So, this was the reason they had brought Adam to grill him about what I had said to him. “If I may interject,” I said, gripping my hands tightly to stop them from shaking. “I in no way tried to instruct the student being referred to about my controversial lifestyle. I simply advised the student always to be true to himself. I'm not sure how bad an advice that is.”
“That’s not a discussion for you to have with any student, Mr. Moreau,” the female PTA representative snapped. She was bristling, her mouth pursed in disapproval. “Parents would rather speak to their children about issues such as these. We do not seek the input of someone who has no other advice to give students but to follow their footsteps.”
“That being said,” Principal McLean stated. “We have concluded that you violated your contract with us, and we'll be discussing the next course of action.”
I tried to speak, to defend myself but my tongue felt too heavy to move. I stared at the faces around me and wondered why they were allowing this to happen. Did neither of them see how wrong this was? Apart from the female PTA president who openly showed her disdain, the other three members of the board were stoic. I couldn't fathom their thoughts.
“Is there anything you’d like to say?” the chairman asked.
I shook my head, still too stricken to answer. I had known this was a possibility, but I could have never prepared myself for hearing the words. I’d have to return to France a failure, leaving the most important person in my life behind. And at a time like this when he was struggling to keep his family together.
“Regardless of our decision,” the chairman continued. “It would be unfair of us not to allow you to present your case to us. We would not have others say that we didn’t have an open and fair discussion about the matter. That being said, we'll convene again next week after the Easter holidays. We will have an open discussion on the matter. If there's anyone you'd like to represent you, feel free to take them along to strengthen your case as to why we should keep you.”
I wanted to ask them why wait and prolong my torture? They wanted to kick me out of the school because I was gay and there was not a damn thing I could do about it. With a nod, I noted the time I was supposed to report back to the school the Friday following the Easter holidays, before taking my leave.
I wanted to curse and punch something. I did neither. Squaring my shoulders, I refused to walk in defeat. I’d never be ashamed for who I was. Being gay hadn’t cost me my job. These people who refused to acknowledge and accept that who I fell in love with was my choice were the ones to blame. If in France, I would have challenged the ruling, but now, I didn’t even know if it made sense to show up.
It was just my luck to leave the school as the bell rang for recess. I hurried along the corridor, to avoid the crush of students who would pile into the hallways in just a second. I was still caught up though as the classroom doors opened and students spilled out into the hall. I ignored them, thinking how relieved I used to be when it was recess, and I could get a little break from them. Now what wouldn’t I do to be able to stand before a class of students again, and chide them for not doing their assignment.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I maneuvered my way through the front doors. Students were hanging around the schoolyard, eating their lunch and chatting. I hurried down the steps and strode for my car. Taking in the scenery of the schoolyard, I glanced around and saw Charlie. She had a brown paper bag in her hand, looking around as though trying to decide where to eat. My heart broke for her. She had been on the brink of a breakthrough and now she seemed more lost than ever.
I was torn between continuing to my car and speaking to her. I felt I had to say something.
“Charlie, how are you?” I winced at my question. It was obvious she was not at her best. I tried again. “Is your brother back home yet?” The last time I had spoken briefly to Gordon two days ago, he was still desperately trying to find his son. Not even the police had been able to locate the boy, and they were treating the matter as a missing person report.
Charlie stared at me, frozen, her throat working but no sound coming out. Her face paled, alarming me, before it turned red. Without warning, she dropped the paper bag she had been holding and ran. Hurt headbutted me in the gut. I pulled my eyes away from her retreating back and strode to my car. I remembered when I’d just met her, a shy girl who nevertheless used to respond to me. She had come out of her shell during the play, and I’d shoved her right back in. If I felt this bad, I couldn’t imagine how Gordon must have been feeling.