Elegy - Chapter 32

Monday, I met Mr. Eaves outside of the Buncombe County School District offices. Normally, these kinds of meetings made me nervous because I was in a position where one man held my fate in his hands. This time, I was actually in a positive mood dealing with them.

Partially, it was because, unlike previous meetings like this, I didn’t have a personal relationship with the superintendent, so there was no reason for him to hate me the way Mr. Packer and the school principal seemed to. For another, I actually had the system on my side this time. I’d been cleared by the courts which meant, according to Mr. Eaves, that they had no right to keep me out of school. In fact, by doing so they were violating my rights.

It felt nice to finally be in a position of power, instead of having to constantly defend myself. Although much of Buncombe County was rural and not well-off, the inclusion of Asheville and its suburbs actually made it one of the more wealthy districts in the state. The offices showed as much with its red brick and classy design, surrounded by a green lawn, even though spring had only just started, and ringed by trees and a black chain-link fence. It was a stark contrast to the seventy-year-old building I went to school in.

The inside was neat and well-appointed, with highly polished floors and art on the walls. Mr. Eaves gave his name and appointment time, and we were quickly whisked away into the superintendent’s office. Mr. Jennings, the superintendent, sat behind an impressively large, dark wood desk, its surface empty except for a phone, a few photo frames, and a name plaque on the front edge, just in case you stumbled in accidentally and missed his name on the door. He was a stout man, not fat but broad, with a receding hairline and a serious demeanor, the kind of guy you’re almost positive has never laughed once in his life. He didn’t come out from behind his desk, but he at least stood up by way of greeting.

“Thank you for taking the time to see us today,” Mr. Eaves said, shaking the man’s hand. “As I said in my message, in light of the dismissal of Charlie’s case and the change of his status, we wanted to talk to someone about getting him back into school. I’ve spoken with the school principal already, who made it clear that he was not willing to discuss Charlie returning to school, which is why we’re here meeting with you today.”

“I’m aware of Mr. Nelson’s situation. Considering the unique nature of the circumstances surrounding Mr. Nelson’s expulsion, the principal and vice-principal both contacted my office for approval before making it official. I also remember Charlie from the incident with the SALT tests late last year, especially his participation in several very public articles about that school’s administration and the district in specific.”

“Yes,” Mr. Eaves said, ignoring that bait. “As I said in my message last Friday, Charlie’s case has been dismissed, which removes any reason for his expulsion, which was dubious in its legality in the first place.”

“Like I said, I’m aware of the situation, but I’m not sure it’s my place to override the school administration,” the superintendent said in a serious, no-nonsense tone. “I believe strongly in not taking responsibility out of the hands of my people, and if they still feel Charlie is a danger to the student body, it’s my job as the superintendent to back their position and support them.”

“It is your job to intercede when your administrators have made a mistake and are acting out of character with your charter, however,” Mr. Eaves said, matching the superintendent’s tone, “it is very clear from the state education statutes that schools do not have the right to summarily remove students from the school unless they prove to be an active and ongoing threat to the student body. A court of law just found that Charlie is not, and any decision to continue to paint him in that light is in violation of both state law and of your duty as an educator. What’s more, several concerning facts came to light during our recent hearing that should be considered.”

“Like what?”

“Like your school’s vice-principal taking cash payments from the county district attorney to harass my client and make his school life difficult, as part of the DA’s ongoing vendetta against my client. A vendetta that now has him in serious legal trouble of his own. There was also discussion of a false drug possession accusation, only a few months ago, and that those accusations might have been made by the vice-principal at the behest of the county district attorney. The county sheriff himself testified that it was likely that the vice-principal actually planted those drugs, which he had previously confiscated from other students several days before, in my client’s locker in an attempt to frame him.”

He might have been right, but Mr. Eaves was severely stretching the truth as far as what Sheriff Gibbs had said. I don’t know if it went so far as to be a lie, but the sheriff had only said I was mistakenly accused, not that the drugs were planted in my locker. That was my own guess based on what I knew about Mr. Packer.

“I’m glad you brought up the SALT incident and remember it so well, though,” Mr. Eaves said, not slowing down, “as it was an incident where Charlie stood up for student journalists who were simply reporting on events at one of your schools, and whose activities the Supreme Court has upheld as constitutional. Charlie didn’t break school rules or cause a scene. All he did was speak to a journalist about the firing of a teacher and expulsion of a student in violation of their constitutional rights and your own district policies. Then the school tried to harass and punish my client for speaking to that journalist, which is another First Amendment violation. So, I guess I have to ask, what exactly is going on in your district, Mr. Jennings?”

“I’m not … I wasn’t trying to imply by my statement that we thought Charlie had done anything wrong,” Mr. Jennings said, clearly flustered. “I’ll agree that there have been some concerning events that might warrant some investigation, but the fact remains that Mr. Nelson isn’t like other students. Besides his more public profile, legally he’s an adult, and so has to be handled with different considerations. As an emancipated youth, wouldn’t it be easier to just get your GED and continue on to the next stage of your life? Put all this unpleasantness behind you.”

The last part was addressed to me, and while his tone was earnest, I could recognize someone trying to dodge dealing with something they didn’t want to deal with when I saw it.

“It probably would be,” I said, “but I’m not going to do that. I promised my mother, before my father took her from me, that I would graduate from high school; that I’d walk across the stage and get my diploma, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Mr. Eaves put his hand on my knee where the superintendent couldn’t see and squeezed. I’d been instructed very clearly on the way here that I was to let him do all the talking, and that if I was asked a question, I needed to answer as concisely as possible.

In my defense, Mr. Eaves should have known that wasn’t likely to happen, and it was his fault for believing me when I agreed.

“Yes, Charlie is an emancipated youth,” Mr. Eaves said, taking back over, “but he’s still entitled by law to receive his education in the public school system, just like any of the students that turn eighteen during a school year. To my knowledge, you haven’t kicked any of those kids out of school once they legally become adults.”

“Well, no, but …” the superintendent started to say, but Mr. Eaves kept going.

“So far, this is the only meeting we’ve taken on the subject because Charlie wants to be a part of this school district, specifically at Carr High School, and given that he’s still a supporter of the school, he has asked that we do this with as little disruption or upset to the district as possible. However, if that becomes impossible, and the school system, in spite of their legal duty and clear overreach, still deny Charlie the chance to attend school in this county, then that approach will change.”

“That sounds like a threat,” the superintendent said.

“I’m sorry if it came off like that, because it wasn’t my intention,” Mr. Eaves lied. “I only mean to make it clear that right now we are trying to work with you to solve the problem, and want to make it clear that, if the district decides to not work with us to solve this, then we’re going to have to go with other methods. Our only recourse will be a lawsuit. Now this school district is much better funded than Charlie, so I’m sure that isn’t an ideal consideration, but what the district doesn’t want is bad press. Imagine articles about an ongoing campaign of harassment that culminates in a student being kicked out of school for the crime of having his parents die. Imagine the public response when it’s clear that, even after the courts have said the student did nothing wrong, the school still refuses to admit him. Newspapers know that anything about corruption inside government organizations sells papers, so I expect they’ll be very interested in this situation. At first, it will probably only be in the North Carolina papers, what with Charlie’s contacts to the media here and in places like Charlotte and Raleigh, but I don’t expect it to stay so limited. This is the kind of story that really has legs and I could see it getting traction on social media and picked up nationally. Hell, even some international papers like stories like this, although that’s usually so they can tell their readers how bad America is. Still, you’d be there, at the center of it, for all to see.”

I’m not sure exactly what media contacts Mr. Eaves thought I had in Charlotte and Raleigh, but it had its effect on Mr. Jennings, who looked increasingly nervous as Mr. Eaves talked. Considering how much they freaked out over the bad press around the SALT testing debacle, it was exactly the right place to hit them.

“I … uhh, I’m sure that won’t be necessary. I appreciate Charlie thinking about the well-being of the district and trying to do this in the least disruptive way, and I am not saying we intended to uphold and continue his expulsion. I was simply giving options for Charlie to consider. Since it’s clear he wants to continue with us, I’m sure we can find a way to make that happen. Now, we can’t just reverse our administrators out of hand, you understand. We do have to conduct an investigation to ensure the end result is fair and equitable. I have no doubt that, at the end of that investigation, Charlie should be able to return to school.”

I assumed that pushing for an investigation was his way of saving face. They already knew what happened, so there shouldn’t be much to investigate. Mr. Eaves, however, seemed to think it was worth it to let them save a little face, because he was nodding when the superintendent finished.

“Of course, and we appreciate the need to do your own due diligence in this situation. I think the final thing to consider is that Charlie has already missed a month of school, and there’s only so much he can miss before it will be impossible for him to catch up to the rest of his classmates and finish the year on time, especially this far along in the semester. With that in mind, we can only hold off for two weeks. Any more than that, and we’ll have to start considering other options.”

Mr. Eaves paused, and then seemed to think of something else. I knew this was an act because there was one part of our demands that he hadn’t brought up yet. It did make me wonder how much of the way Mr. Eaves responded was genuine and how much was calculated. Because this entire conversation had gone exactly as he’d said it would, with Mr. Eaves leading Mr. Jennings around by the nose, and yet he made it seem like Mr. Jennings was having some effect on the outcome.

“One more thing. While I would never tell you how to run your school district, I strongly believe you should consider some changes in the administration at Carr before Charlie goes back. Considering that some members of the administration were taking bribes to harass one student, and other members assisted in that, I’m not sure they’re the right people to be educating children. Even if he is allowed back, if those administrators are still in place, I’m not sure how comfortable I am with Charlie’s accepting that as a fair result. Given their past track record of retaliation, I think it would be difficult for anyone, be it us in this room or people at home reading their newspapers, to believe that to be a fair resolution.”

I’m not even sure why he bothered to try and couch that last threat, considering how blatant it was, but the superintendent just nodded and said, “I understand. We will do everything we can to make this situation work.”

***

Since I had at least another week before I would be allowed back in school and Lyla had to be at her parents’ for the next few days, I decided now was a good time to take a trip out to Raleigh to see Hanna. We’d talked regularly since she went back to school, but things were still a little awkward between us, residual tension left over from the blowout after the Raleigh show. I’d wanted to start working on repairing that, and I didn’t really want to wait until she was back home for the summer, so now seemed like the perfect opportunity.

I decided to make it a surprise visit, which was risky. I knew her class schedule, but there was no telling if she’d actually go back to her dorm after her last class or if she’d go out with Troy or other friends. I banked on her at least stopping by her dorm to drop her books off and figured if she didn’t show, I could always call her then.

She wasn’t in her dorm room when I got there, but her roommate did confirm she usually dropped by about this time to put her books up, which at least validated that part of my theory. After asking her roommate not to call and let Hanna know I was there, saying I wanted it to be a surprise, I went out and waited on the front stoop of the dorm for Hanna to get back.

I didn’t have to wait long. After about ten minutes, I saw her walking down the sidewalk toward me. At first, she was just looking at the ground, more or less lost in thought. When she looked up, maybe to make sure she didn’t bump into anything, her eyes swept over me and she paused. I could see her brain catch, and she did a double take before her face broke into a big grin and she sprinted the last little bit, leaping at me, forcing me to catch her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, hugging me tight.

“I haven’t seen you since the funeral, and I missed you.”

I tried to let go, and she squeezed me tighter, forcing me to go back to hugging her.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“Me too.”

Finally, she let go and stepped back.

“So, tell me what’s been going on.”

“You know what’s been going on. We talked two days ago.”

“Yeah, but that was over the phone. The information sounds different when you tell me in person.”

“You are very strange,” I pointed out.

“Yes, but my demand stands.”

“Well, my case was dismissed. You knew that. Mr. Eaves is working on some stuff to try and get my contract revived, or at least pry my album loose from the label.”

“Do you think he’ll have any luck?”

“I have no idea. They clearly violated the contract, but they have a lot of money to tie us up with if they want to. They might decide to fight it and bleed me dry. At least, Mr. Eaves warned me that was one possibility.”

“Well, even if you don’t get it back, you can start over, right? You still have shows at the Blue Ridge for the next year.”

“Yeah. Lyla agreed to the changes I want and plans to stick with me, and Willie’s drummer has agreed to cover us at least at the Blue Ridge, but we need to find a new drummer before we start touring.”

“You can do that. You found one before, you can do it again.”

“Seth and Marco were lucky, or maybe it was unlucky. Either way, it’s not like I went out to find them. We kind of stumbled across each other randomly.”

“Yeah, but you went out and found Lyla. Is finding a drummer any harder than finding a bass player?”

“That was through Marco. He was the one with the contacts to other musicians.”

“And Lyla doesn’t have contacts to drummers?” she asked, her attention drifting for a second as a group of people came out of the dorm and then snapping back to me as she dismissed them.

“No, she does, and she’s working on it. Sorry, I’m trying to keep from being pessimistic, but it’s hard. We’ll find one, I’m sure. Then we have to figure out how to start booking out-of-town gigs.”

“I can help with that. I was paying attention to Brent and Warren. I might not be able to travel with you, but my phone works here just as well as it would in Wellsville. I can make some calls to places you’ve played before, and I don’t have a problem cold-calling venues.”

“That’s a lot of work, Hanna,” I said.

“I told you I wanted to help you succeed and I meant it. Just because you didn’t need me when you had Warren doesn’t mean I’m not still here for you when you don’t have him anymore,” she said, moving to sit next to me and scanning the crowd as she talked.

“Thanks, Hanna,” I said. “Hey, on the bright side, we only did a small order for merch, and we sold through most of it, or got money to replace the stuff that burned up from MAC’s insurance, so the name change isn’t going to mean we have to throw out stuff.”

“See, that’s what I like to hear.”

“Enough about me, what’s going on with you? The last few times we talked I didn’t miss the fact that you kept changing the subject every time I asked about you.”

“Yeah. Uhh, well … Troy and I broke up.”

“Really?” I said.

“You don’t have to sound so excited about it.”

“Sorry, I know you liked him. You also know I always felt that he didn’t treat you right. I’m not going to hide the fact that I’m happy he’s finally gone.”

“Okay,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the people walking behind us into the dorm.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“What?”

“You keep looking around all nervous. Every time someone walks into your peripheral vision, your head whips around.”

“I don’t think … no,” she said, caught off guard.

“Hanna,” I said warningly.

“Fine. He’s been coming around a lot since we broke up, making a lot of comments. He has a serious temper and I’m a little worried about why he’s following me.”

“Has he threatened you?” I asked.

“No, not directly. It’s mostly been … shit,” she said, her eyes locking onto something in the distance.

Troy was coming down the sidewalk toward us, glowering. I could feel Hanna tense up next to me. He may not have directly threatened her, but her body language said that she definitely felt uncomfortable around him.

When I first looked at him, it almost looked like he was lurking, moving slowly, head partially down, but that changed when he noticed me turning around and seeing him. I guess since he was busted, he gave up trying to hide and marched up toward us, glaring at Hanna the whole way.

He barely spared me a glance before he said, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I broke up with you, which means we avoid each other permanently.”

“Bitch, I’m the one who decides when we break up, and I’m not through with you yet.”

“Really, because you’ve been sleeping in your frat house again and I’m not answering your calls. Sure seems like I’m the one who decided to dump your ass.”

“You cu…” he started to say, stepping forward before I edged myself closer to him.

“Watch it,” I said, my tone making it clear he was about to make a painful mistake.

He finally shifted his glare to me, but he stepped back. After another few beats, when he realized I wasn’t going to back down, he returned his attention to her.

“I know all about the guy you were cheating on me with, and I think maybe I should start telling people. How long do you think he’ll last when people find out he’s banging a nineteen-year-old.”

“Like you care. You were sleeping with three other girls half the time we were together, not to mention the number of times you made passes at my best friend. Right in front of me! I’m not an idiot, Troy. You decided it was over way before I finally left.”

“Maybe if you were better in bed, I wouldn’t have had to find other women to satisfy me.”

“Says the three-inch wonder. Have any of the other girls laughed the first time they saw you? Trust me, they weren’t just ‘nervous’ or ‘thinking of something else.’ They were laughing at your … umm … deficiencies.”

“Bitch,” he said, and raised a fist, starting it on its journey towards Hanna.

The first time, he was just positioning himself, trying to act tough, which is why he got a warning. This time, I knew he was going to really swing before he ever lifted his arm. Like most amateurs, he telegraphed his punch, leading with his body and starting a heavy wind-up, I guess thinking it gave him more power.

I started moving almost as soon as he did, but I didn’t need a lot of wind-up. The fight with Dad might have been a brutal fight, intended to cause serious harm, but this was more like the fights with Harry and Aaron. A bully trying to use violence when their tough talk didn’t work and hoping the other person was too scared to fight back. What that meant for me was that I couldn’t go too far. I’d had enough brushes with the law; I didn’t need another charge for assault.

Instead, I wrapped my arm under his swinging fist and around, clamping my hand down on his shoulder, hooking his arm with mine, and dropped my left foot into the back of his knee hard, dropping him to the ground. While I let him hit with a thud, I did move my hand off his shoulder and behind his head at the last second, to keep it from smacking pavement, again trying to avoid an accidental injury that might propel this into the assault category.

Once he was down safely, I backed up and looked down at him, giving him a hard stare.

“That was a warning. Try that again, and I’ll do it for real.”

He just lay there, gawking at me. He seemed genuinely shocked someone would put hands on him. For a guy who was such a massive asshole, I was surprised he didn’t get his ass kicked more often.

“You should get up and run away now,” I said when he didn’t move.

That seemed to knock him out of his stupor because he scrambled to his feet.

“You’ll wish you never left me, bitch,” he said as he ran away.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand why guys like that, after they’re been shown publicly and pointedly that they are all bark and no bite, have to get the last word in as they run away.

Watching him go, I noticed most of the people near us had stopped to gawk and stare, some looking at us and some at Troy as he ran away. Even though it was good to know we had a lot of witnesses that could attest to Troy throwing a punch intended for Hanna, and that I had simply stopped him from hitting her by knocking him down without actually hurting him, knowing my luck over the last several months, I wasn’t willing to bet my freedom on it. Not a second time.

“We should probably go somewhere else to catch up,” I said to Hanna.

“Uhh … yeah. Probably,” she said, getting her wits about her and grabbing my hand, dragging me away from the building.

We wound our way through a large open area, into a building, out the other side, made a sharp turn, and went across another area with a lot of flowers, ending up in what I assumed was some kind of student lounge. I was honestly pretty lost by that point, but I hoped that was a good sign that anyone looking for us might not be able to find us.

“So you’ve got a new guy?” I asked when we finally stopped our dash across campus.

“Not really,” she said, still looking around, I guess afraid that Troy was going to pop back up at any minute.

“Ohh, I thought Troy said something about you dating someone new, which we’re all totally on board with. We love the idea of you finding someone, just, you know, not Troy.”

“I know. I just don’t want to talk about it right now,” she said, finally looking at me.

She wasn’t annoyed, but she did seem uncomfortable with the conversation, so I dropped it.

“No problem. So, since I can’t go back to school yet and Lyla is off at her parents’ house for a few days, I thought I could stay here and hang out with you in between classes.”

“Really?” she said. “That would be great. Where will you stay, though? Do you want me to call Aunt Shirley?”

“That’s okay. I called Victor on the way up here, and he said I could crash with him.”

“Great. We’re going to have so much fun,” she said, launching into plans for stuff we could do while I was there.

This was what I needed. A break away from all the stuff going on at home. I was still worried about getting back into school, what Mr. Campbell was going to do to retaliate for losing, and getting my music career started up again, but for right now, I could just hang out with my best friend and be a kid again.