Pilate's Cross by J Alexander Greenwood

Author:J Alexander Greenwood [Greenwood, J Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Caroline Street Press
Published: 2010-12-12T22:00:00+00:00

The next morning, Pilate rose early after a fitful night in bed. Around six thirty, he journeyed across the chilly oval to the cafeteria, frost crunching under his feet.

In the cafeteria, about twenty student zombies milled down the serving line, pointing and grunting at the sight of French toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, or Froot Loops.

Pilate ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee for himself, then took a seat alone by a window overlooking the oval.

Halfway through his eggs, he spied Jack Lindstrom making his walk from the modest president’s residence at the south end of the oval to his office in the admin building at the north end. He walked with a spring in his step. Thinning hairs on his head waved in the breeze.

Pilate indulged in a sneer as he crunched on his bacon. “Is it that bad, Mr. Pilate?”

Pilate turned to see Abbey Prince standing beside his table, dressed in unflattering sweatpants, a Cougars sweatshirt, and a ball cap, with her brown hair sticking out the back in a ponytail. In spite of her very non-feminine attire, Abbey was pretty in a fresh-scrubbed, corn-fed, farm girl way—the absolute epitome of the girl next door. She was in his speech class on Mondays and Wednesdays.

“Huh?” he said.

“The bacon. You made a face,” she said.

“Oh yeah.” He wanted to tell her that he was actually making a face at the biggest asshole on campus, but he could only assume that would not be proper. “It’s a little burnt. I prefer it chewy.”

“Oh, me too. Absolutely!” she said.

Pilate thought his student unnaturally perky for this time of day.

She hovered, holding her tray and glancing at the table. “Abbey, would you care to join me?” he said.

She seemed to smile with her entire body. “Sure.” Abbey sat with one chair between her and Pilate. Her ponytail flopped as she removed her hat and appeared to say a silent prayer over her food. Seconds later, she was spearing scrambled eggs using a fork with two bent tines.

“Was that a prayer?” Pilate asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Sometimes I give thanks for my food, but mostly I pray I won’t eat too much.”

Pilate wasn’t sure if she was serious and had no idea how to respond without insulting her.

Fortunately, she let him off the hook with a laugh. “You can take the girl out of the farm…” she said.

Pilate liked Abbey. She was studying to be a special education teacher and was one of the brighter lights among the students he taught.

“I think it’s nice,” he said, eating a corner off a piece of buttery wheat toast.

“Mama and Daddy made me promise I would,” she said. “So they’re farmers?”

“Yes,” she said, a little put out. “Remember my speech on my family history?”

“Right,” Pilate said. “Sorry. I have more than a hundred students to keep track of.”

“Sure,” she said, drinking skim milk from a plastic tumbler.

“So, Abbey, how’s everything?”

“Oh, okay,” she said. “School’s all right. Grades are pretty good. I start student teaching next semester.”

“Well, you’ve worked very hard,” he said.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.