At some point, his curiosity sufficiently piqued, Radix asked other
teachers about her. What was their opinion of the lady in the library?
Which lady? they usually responded, You mean, Val? They offered
unflattering profiles.
Dr. Balleret was into her 27th year at John Wayne Cotter. She showed no
readiness to retire. She ran the library like a colonial outpost. The books
on the shelves were old and outdated; they left dust on your fingers. You
could read the names of the students (some of whom Dr. Balleret
remembered fondly) who had taken them out in the 70s. She asked me to
pay for returning a book late! can you believe that?
Everything else, like the librarian, was slowly and neatly decomposing on
the library shelves.
Only Tom Maypole (Biology) had good things to say about her. (He wore a
jacket with a patch at the elbow and a tie, and he smoked a pipe; and
everyone called him the Professor.)
"A wonderful….truly generous person…much misunderstood," he said.
"Tell me about it, Tom."
"No seriously, you have to understand the world she lives in."
"And what world is that? I thought we all lived more or less on the same
planet."
"Don't forget, she's been here longer than most of you can recall."
"I remember how excited she got about organizing student trips to the
Museum of Modern Art," someone conceded.
"Did you hear.. about the reunion of teachers and graduates she's
organizing…? from as far back as 1971? It's for a big send-off party, since
they're closing the school. Didn't you get a notice in your box?"
Dr. Balleret was, indeed, a wonderful organizer of friendly school
events, which was the reason the school administration valued her.
Despite her prim, good-old-days rigidity, the principals who had passed
through the school knew they could turn to her for events that required a
small intimate gathering and light refreshments; like conferences,
seminars or ceremonies of one kind or another. The library was the
perfect setting, and Dr. Balleret, once she was given timely notice, the
ideal organizer.
It was Dr. Balleret who organized the special tribute for Travis Willosong
when he died. Colleagues were invited to the library during periods 5 and
6 to share their fond memories with Mr. Willosong's mother, who had flown
all the way to New York to attend. Dr. Balleret stood at the door, chasing
away curious students, and directing teachers to the arranged chairs. She
had asked Pete Plimpler (A.P. English) to preside over the event.
Radix was chilled at the announcement of Mr. Willosong's death. Dr.
Balleret read it over the school's p.a. system in a heartfelt, dignified way.
She made a short speech about the great loss to the John Wayne Cotter
family. Someone else might have ruined the moment, causing discomfort
and restlessness by going on too long.
In her measured tone Dr. Balleret asked for a moment of silence. No one
else could have mastered that instant of public sadness with such control
and dignity.
Her voice was the last closing bell in the school's fading tradition; not
heard too often, but reminding everyone there were standards, a higher
purpose of decency and achievement, to live up to.
(from "Ah Mikhail, O Fide!", a novel by N.D.Williams, 2014)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 