Page 12 of Always Mine
“Yes. I enjoy seeing what’s going on in my organizations.”
“It’s nice that you take an interest.”
“Would you mind if I sat in on your class?”
Her brows skyrocketed.
“Don’t worry. I’m not evaluating you. I’m trying to get around to all the departments. And history is one of the classes I liked in high school.”
“Of course you can.”
Annie returned with the book and both he and Maisy stood. “Thanks. I’m taking in Maisy’s class today.”
“Enjoy watching the expert teach.” Maisy had been at Pathways since it started six years ago.
The warning chimes rang. No shrill bells at Pathways. Maisy said, “Let’s go through that door. Bye, Annie.”
“Bye you two.”
As they crossed to the door connecting the two rooms, Jackson said, “I think it’s best if I sit in the back. I met with the guys this morning and I don’t want to intrude on the lesson.”
“Sure.”
As he took a seat, Jackson chided himself for choosing to observe Maisy Shepherd today. But last night he’d had horrible dreams about his days with the Tarantulas. Damn! It was twenty years ago. He awoke in a cold sweat. Because of that he was treating himself to time with this woman.
As the boys filed in, talking and joking, he wondered why he was so drawn to her. His feelings had built gradually. But nothing could ever happen between them. She was his employee, and it would be unethical to see her outside of the classroom. But there was something that kept him coming back.
Today she wore plain navy cropped pants and a white blouse and sandals. Simple. Easy. Her hair was a wavy auburn and fell to the middle of her back. He bet she had red hair as a child. But her eyes got to him the most. They were amber, with dark rims around the pupil.
She smiled when the kids picked up their journals from a bin off to the side and sat in the circle. “Hello, everyone. I hope your weekend was good.” Her voice was friendly and interested. “Any volunteers to tell me about yours?”
“Hey, Ms. Shepherd. My weekend was fine.”
“Why is that, Frankie?”
“I got to see my mom.”
“I know that makes you happy.” She focused her attention on him. “I’m glad.”
Pathways was a residential facility, with a large staff. The teachers, however, did not live on campus. Kids were allowed visits with their families in a secure location. Frankie was here because he beat his father to a pulp—the father that had been attacking his little brother with a belt.
Maisy surveyed the rest of the group. “Anyone else? Timmy?”
“It was okay. I played soccer with some of the guys and staff.” As a freshman, Timmy had been a starting athlete on the varsity soccer team in an upscale school in Syracuse. One night, he took a joyride with other players when their car hit somebody. Older, the other guys got away and Timmy and two others were caught. Timmy was sent here instead of juvie.
Maisy elicited one more volunteer, but the other three stayed quiet.
“Thanks for sharing. Today we’re going to start studying the Civil War.”
Some groans. Mostly for show. By now, April, these kids had adjusted to being sent here and maybe even liked some of the staff. “In Humanities, you’ll be readingRifles for Watie, a book about a young soldier just a bit older than you who was drafted into the Civil War.”
No response.
“I’d like you to take out your journals. Since everybody has heard something about the Civil War, jot down what you already know about it. When you finish that, write about how you’d feel if you were drafted into war today.”
The kids obeyed, again, some more willingly than others. But once they got going, they all wrote steadily. Maisy was writing with them. She always did the assignments she gave to the kids.
Jackson wrote too. He listed only a few of the things he knew about the Civil War. Then on to the personal:I wouldn’t have to go at my age, of course. But when I was younger, I’d have loved a stint in the army. Maybe I could have escaped from the gang sooner…
