Staggerford by Jon Hassler

Staggerford by Jon Hassler

Author:Jon Hassler
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780307779601
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-01-11T22:00:00+00:00


Miles crossed the hall to Stevenson’s outer office, where Delia Fritz, counting lunch money, told him that the superintendent was occupied. Miles said he would wait. Delia pointed to a chair and went on counting her pile of coins, four at a time, pulling them off her desk with four fingers and dropping them into a metal box on her lap.

Delia Fritz, former shoe-store clerk, and now, since Stevenson’s abdication, the true administrator of the Staggerford school system, was a whiz. She was chubby and quick. Today she was wearing three pencils in her wig. Her phone rang, and she rested the receiver between her shoulder and ear and went on counting. The caller was a parent requesting conferences with five teachers, including Miles. From memory Delia told the parent when each of the five had a free hour and added, “If you’re coming in tomorrow, you may not find Mrs. Workman, she will be away attending the funeral of a friend. If you wish to talk to Mr. Pruitt right now I think I could find him for you.” Delia winked at Miles. “Yes, that’s the one. He teaches English. Yes, senior English. Yes, a bachelor, a good catch for somebody. But he gives the young ladies very little encouragement. He’s all wrapped up in his teaching, you know. Yes, you know the type. He’s forever running off worksheets and quizzes and things like that on the Xerox. Yes, he seems to have a comfortable rapport with his students. The only criticism I’ve heard about his teaching is that his lesson plans are sketchy. I have another call on line two, Mrs. Holt. Yes, it was nice talking to you. Good-by.”

Line two was a salesman calling long distance. “Don’t bother,” said Delia. “We’re up to here in office furniture. We overbought when we built this wing. No, even if you make the trip, the superintendent will not want to talk to you. Send me your card and if the day ever comes to open bids on office furniture we’ll let you know. No, all our carpeting is like new. You’re welcome.” She hung up.

“Since when did it become your job to read lesson plans?” said Miles.

“Don’t get testy, Miles, I’m only repeating what Mr. Workman said to Mr. Stevenson about your lesson plans. ‘Sketchy’ was his word for them.”

“And about my rapport with students? Were you quoting Mr. Workman about that too?”

“No, that was what Mr. Stevenson said to Mr. Workman. He said you have a comfortable rapport with students. You’re Mr. Stevenson’s fair-haired boy, you know. That’s why he was so shocked this morning to see Jeff Norquist jump out your window.”

“What did he say?”

“He came out here to my desk, where he never comes anymore, and he said, ‘Delia, you will never believe what I just saw. I saw the Norquist boy jump out Miles Pruitt’s window. Please make an appointment for me with Dr. Maitland.’ He thought his heart was stopping.”

Miles heard the toilet flush in the superintendent’s private lavatory.



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