Project Domain by S.L. Luck

Author:S.L. Luck [Luck, S.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independently published
Published: 2022-08-09T00:00:00+00:00

21. Tyler Cagey

Theo was in hell. He had reported fifteen minutes early to Principal Irving Hahn’s office wearing an itchy tweed jacket and second-hand corduroy pants that were so stiff they seemed to split his balls in half. He was so hot his impenetrable antiperspirant disintegrated. He smelled sour. The chair was uncomfortable. And the crispy-haired secretary—Joan Tobbles, by the nameplate on the reception desk—had been ogling him like his perspiration was coconut body oil and he had asked her to rub it all over him under a tropical beach umbrella. He had smiled politely and when she smiled back, bright pink smears of lipstick were on her teeth and he had to stifle the urge not to point it out.

“You’re a new one,” she purred when he gave her his name—Tyler Cagey. “Emma and Lauren are our usual supply teachers. Sometimes Morgan. You’re going to be with us a while, huh?” Her eyes darted to his left hand where there was no wedding ring.

He avoided looking at her left hand; didn’t want her to think he was interested. “Got lucky, I guess.”

She took his brief answer for nerves. “First-day jitters?”

Theo nodded. “Is it that obvious?” He flashed his save-a-country smile, the one that got him into beds and out of trouble whenever he wanted. The more she liked him, the easier this would be. “I haven’t taught in a while. My sabbatical that lasted much longer than I thought.”

“I always thought of taking one myself,” Joan said, rising from her chair and coming around the reception desk. “Travel somewhere warm, explore new cultures, maybe meet someone.” She leaned against the desk. Her too-large suit consumed her cigarette-slender frame, as though she were a straw bunched inside a parachute. Even through his own sour sweat he could smell tobacco on her and when she opened her ashtray mouth to continue, Theo noted that the lipstick was gone and that her teeth were little brown-yellow capsules in need of a good bleaching. “Where did you go?” she asked.

“Cambodia,” Theo said. “My wife and I planned to volunteer in this village.”

Disappointment creased her face. “That would have been an amazing experience.”

He nodded. “It would have been, but she passed away shortly after we arrived. There was a malfunction with her scuba gear.” He cast his eyes downward, remembering his fake wife and her terrible, fake death.

Joan’s hand went to her mouth. It was a major improvement. “Oh, oh dear I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.” She moved as if to reach out and hug him but then two pimply latecomers stumbled into the office. She gave him a sympathetic smile, scowled at the teens, and retreated to her desk to give them purple slips of paper.

He saw it in her eyes that she wanted to talk more, perhaps offer a shoulder of sympathy, but Irving Hahn walked into the office, shoes soaking wet. Behind him was a boy with his head hanging so low that he appeared almost headless. Only when he tripped over Theo’s feet did he raise his eyes, and Theo saw that the kid was on the verge of tears.

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