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That news did not come as a surprise. “Does he get angry with your mom?”
He bobbed his head. “All . . . all the time. When he comes home from work. He’s always mad.”
Melanie reached overhead, pulled down a few paper towels from the dispenser, and handed them to Jerome. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Please, Ms. Drake, don’t make me go home with him.” He began to sob again.
“Has he ever hit you?” she asked as she stroked his hair.
Jerome buried his face in his hands. “He slapped me real hard.”
“Have you ever seen him strike your mother?”
More nods. “He shoved her after he slapped me.”
Melanie surmised the father was a bully. Displaced aggression, perhaps. For now, Melanie had to mitigate any physical threats against Jerome or his mother.
“You wait here. I’m going to get your mom, okay?”
Jerome nodded and wiped the snot running from his nose.
Melanie asked one of the hall monitors to stand outside the boys’ bathroom. “Don’t let anyone in or out. If someone tries to get past you, start yelling.”
She marched back to her office. So, Ms. Melanie Drake, you wanted to be a diplomat. Here’s your opportunity to use diplomacy and negotiate.
“Well?” Walker exploded again.
Melanie ignored him. By now, a security guard was standing a few yards from her office door. Audrey Alexander had anticipated there could be a problem. Walker wasn’t known for being affable or reasonable. He’d had a run-in with the softball coach the year before. He kept complaining Jerome wasn’t getting enough time on the field. The problem was that Jerome didn’t want to be on the field. He didn’t want to play at all. The coach tried to reason with the man, but Walker growled in the coach’s face and was banned from attending a game again. Not that he cared. His son wasn’t destined for Major League Baseball.
Melanie looked at Mrs. Walker. “Could you please come with me?”
Mr. Walker started to move. Audrey stopped him. “No, sir. Just Mrs. Walker.”
“I don’t know what you people think you’re up to!” Another gasket blown. Seemed like he had an inordinate amount of them.
That’s when Mr. Lynch, the security guard, came into view. He said nothing. He just stood there, all six feet four inches, two hundred thirty pounds of him. Walker sagged. Little did he know Melanie Drake was as big a threat to his physical well-being as Mr. Lynch, and neither would have to use a weapon. Melanie kept her Glock in a lockbox, which was locked in her desk drawer. There were only two keys, one for each lock, and they were clipped to her new lanyard, which read:
MELANIE DRAKE
JESSE MOORER ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
GUIDANCE COUNSELOR
She fidgeted with her ID. This was a different kind of altercation. There was a child involved, in a school, with a very angry parent. Diplomacy.
Melanie escorted Mrs. Walker to the corner of the tiled room, where her son sat in a heap. Mrs. Walker sat on the floor, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and began to rock him gently. Melanie could see his body shaking.
“I’ll be right back.” Melanie bolted back to her office. She stopped in the doorway. She was almost out of breath but held her composure. “Audrey, may I speak with you?”
The security guard moved closer to Melanie’s door. Walker had better not have thoughts of going anywhere.
Audrey and Melanie moved out of earshot. Melanie began to repeat what Jerome had told her.
“The man has a temper.” Melanie wasn’t simply offering her opinion. She was quite masterful in sizing someone up quickly. “Jerome told me his father slapped him.” Melanie knew kids embellished. But not in this case. “He also told me his dad shoved his mother.”
“Oh boy.” Audrey looked up. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
