Jessica did try to put the incident behind her, though with each passing day her
shoulders looked more rounded; her demeanor stiffened, as if her stomach now
carried a secret that must be held in check and not give her away. She had lost
some of her sureness of things, and to her classmates she seemed less "arrogant",
though she was still considered the senior student "most likely to succeed".
And for awhile everything was fine, until weeks before graduation exercises when
a chance remark, that had nothing to do with her, stirred memories of the fire
drill incident. She was suffused again with feelings of shame and violation, and
the troubling thought that by now everyone in the building knew what had
happened; and in that cruel high school way everyone was sniggering behind her
back.
In her heart seeds of trepidation took root. When she pictured herself up on the
stage about to deliver the valedictorian speech before parents and school
officials, she trembled. She knew she'd freeze.
She'd hear a snigger; she'd see hand-muffled giggles; she'd look out at the frozen
grins of those upturned faces, the Class of '92, so subdued and different in their
haircuts and formal dress. Worse than the fondling of her buttocks would be
failure before their knowing eyes. Her humiliation would be complete. She could
not got through with it.
Could not go through with it? What on earth was she talking about? Her mother
demanded an explanation. Jessica could not explain.
Her mother, for whom the valedictory moment would be the crown in her
daughter's achievement, would hear nothing of it. Nerves could be overcome,
Jessica must go through with it.
Jessica swore she could not. Her mother worked herself into such commanding
frenzy, Jessica eventually broke down and disclosed what had happened many
months ago during the fire drill.
Her mother was stunned. Why hadn't Jessica mentioned it before? Did she speak
to anyone at the school about it? Had she raised her daughter to bite her lips and
say nothing when something like this happened?
Outraged that "something like this" had indeed happened to her daughter,
Jessica's mother stormed into the school the following day. She demanded to
speak to the principal. She was directed to Bob Darling's office.
He listened with sympathy and astonishment; he shared her distress over the vile
attack on her daughter; he directed her to the Dean of Discipline.
The Dean sought more information about the incident from Jessica. He explained
that since the whole thing happened so long ago, his hands were tied; at this
stage there was little he could do. Jessica's mother fumed and raged. Jessica sat
with bowed head, mortified that her mother was making such a scene in the
office.
Her mother threatened to take the whole matter to the Board of Education, even
if it meant taking another day off from work and traveling to Brooklyn.
This she apparently did for word came back through the grapevine that the Board
of Education had received a complaint about "an incident". While not calling
names or blaming anyone in particular, they were very concerned. A parent had
confirmed their worst fears about the number of "incidents" at John Wayne Cotter
H.S. that had gone either unreported or uninvestigated.
Phil Quackenbush, who had been fighting a rear guard battle through the union to
stop the Board from closing down and redesignating the school, confided to his
membership his belief that this incident ̶ or, as he put it, "this non-incident" ̶
was the final nail in the coffin.
"This is like the Titanic," he said, half-seriously. "We're headed straight for
disaster. The big iceberg is right in front of us, and there's not a whole lot we can
do."
(from "Ah Mikhail O Fidel!", a novel by N.D.Williams, 2001)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 