Devotion Page 19
Barry guides me away from the gawking crowd for a minute until we're alone. "Look, Katherine, I've had multiple emails sent from parents complaining about you and your conduct in the classroom. They all know about the attack. And because of the incident, there's a strong consideration whether you are fit for duty."
"I am, dammit. I might have made a few understandable mistakes here and there, but you're acting like I'm a danger to the children. I'm not and never will be."
"No one is saying that you're a danger to the children, okay? The concern here is your mental state and if you can function at an acceptable level to teach and care for your class. The welfare of the kids must come first."
I stumble backward until I feel something solid bump into my back. "Are you firing me?" I stammer.
Barry shakes his head but says nothing to confirm that he's not thinking about it. I know what he's like. At the first sign of trouble with a teacher he will do anything he can to make them want to resign or move on. He can't seem to handle things when teachers are the ones causing him grief. If I were a parent, he'd bend over backwards to accommodate me.
"Come along, Katherine. We can talk more about this in my office."
My eyebrows narrow in. "No. I'm going home. You've already decided everything. There's nothing left to discuss." I walk away from Barry and head toward the parking lot. He doesn't call out to try to stop me. I don't know if I will ever return to this school.
62
Annette
I watch Katherine leave school from the front of the office through the glass of the door. Apparently, Barry has acted faster than I expected he would in response to the fake complaints I sent him. I marked them all as anonymous to make it difficult to follow up each complaint on an individual level. Combined with three real criticisms from the usual whining parents it must have made the situation impossible to ignore.
A small snicker escapes my lips as I watch Katherine climb into her car and slam the door. Any minute now my cell will ring with her on the other end ready to moan. But I won't answer my phone if it rings. Not today. I'm too busy to help her out and be the one she dumps all of her emotional trash onto. She can wait until I get home.
Barry is so scared of the parents and their ability to have him fired. He acts like they're all his collective boss some days. The emails he received came via the school app that allows parents, teachers, and the admin staff to communicate school-related issues between one another. I sent the complaints at different times using various levels of wording via the anonymous feedback forms each classroom has associated with it.
With the three real complaints backing up the fake ones, Barry would have freaked out and jumped into action to have Katherine removed from the classroom as quickly as possible. He can't fire her, though. At least not yet. There's a long-winded process behind that, requiring actual proof that Katherine can no longer teach at the school. All the spineless administrator can do at the moment is force her to take leave and pray the situation resolves itself.
My cell buzzes in my pocket. It's Katherine sending me a lengthy text about what's happened. She's still in the parking lot, sitting in her car, from what I can tell. The message is littered with spelling mistakes and words jammed together. Normally she sends me proofread texts as if it matters to the world that her boring communications use the correct spelling and grammar. She's probably crying over her cell letting her tears splash on the screen. I can only hope.
At the end of the message, Katherine has asked me to pick up Ava after school. She's already informed the teachers there that either me or Katherine will come to collect her at four. Reluctant to reply, I have no choice but to say yes. The world needs to see what a great friend I am for the moment. I have to appear happy to offer her help and drive Ava home to my place like a mindless chauffeur.
I mutter away to myself all day, annoyed that I have to collect Ava when Katherine could easily make the trip back to school herself. She thanked me again and again and explained how she was too embarrassed to show her face at school after Barry kicked her out. I pretended to care as Katherine eventually requested the inevitable. By the end of the school day, I've apparently agreed to drive Ava to and from school for the rest of the week while Katherine lays around my house feeling sorry for herself.
I guess I'll have to make the best of the situation and ensure Katherine has a pleasant stay.
63
Katherine
After three days of being away from the school on leave, I'm already bored out of my mind. I feel bad for asking Annette to drive Ava to kindergarten and back each day, but I can't face the judgmental faces of the parents and teachers. At least not until I've had enough time to get used to the fact that I will now have a permanent stain on my teaching record.
I never once contemplated that my job would be in jeopardy after I survived the hard years spent with Peter. My career became my focus outside of Ava. I rarely worried about dating and only ever went out with Annette occasionally to a bar for the night, avoiding drinking more than a few glasses of wine. Look at me now.
Not only have I lost what I thought was an amazing relationship with Corey, but I'm facing the prospect of losing my career. I could have obliterated all of my hard work in a short amount of time because I married a psycho. How did I let myself fall into the arms of another guy like Peter? One who is worse than my terrible ex? I don't think I will ever find a good person.
Maybe the universe is proving to tell me something. Maybe all this time I shouldn't have been worried about finding some man to save me from the world when I should have been the one to do so. I allowed myself to become dependent on Corey in as little a time as possible. That's why I should never have said yes when he casually sprung a proposal on me. I wasn't ready for such a commitment. And apparently, he regretted the decision as well.
I still find it hard to fathom that Corey attacked me the way he did. Did he plan it out entirely, or was he coming to yell at me and let his anger take over? I'll never know as there's no chance in hell I will ever speak to him again, especially given the impact of his actions.
Annette's home is large. She inherited the two-level house from her aunt a few years ago that is reasonably close to the water in Battery Beach. I would kill to have this place compared to the small rental I live in now. That's not to say that this house is perfect. Someone built it in the fifties meaning it's long overdue for a renovation. It's rather big for one person to exist in. I'm always surprised Annette doesn't rent out a few rooms for extra cash. But then again, she loves her privacy.
Bored, I walk around the house, looking for something to do. I don't know what I'm hoping to find as I amble from room to room absently exploring the layout. I discover the door to the basement, and try the handle. It's locked, giving me some relief that Ava won't accidentally find her way in there and trip down the steps.
There is still too long to go before Ava and Annette get home to help relieve this crippling tedium that is my forced leave. I feel like I should do something constructive to pass the time, but my mind is all over the place at the moment.
One minute, I want to forgive Corey and take him back. The next, I wish someone would send him to prison for what he did and hope that he gets hurts on the inside. I go around in circles throughout the day.
Finally, I settle onto Annette's comfy sofa and watch a movie. I need to escape for a few hours so I put on a comedy that hopefully won't remind me of anything to do with Corey.
About twenty minutes into the film, I hear a heavy bump outside. "What the…?" I mutter. I pause the film and try to pinpoint where I thought the noise came from. It's almost impossible with the ambient ocean waves crashing in the distance, so I return to watching the comedy.
A minute later, the same loud bang interrupts me. This time I locate the source of the disturbance. It sounds like someone had hit the back door of Annette's house with a brick, given how heavy it was. I have no choice but to pause the film again and see what's going on.
Pressing my body into the door, I feel the key turn away from the frame until it unlocks with a loud crack. "Ouch," I let out as a sharp pain throbs in my thumb and index finger. I shake my fingers to ease the discomfort as best I can and grab the doorknob with my other hand.
Standing alone at Annette's back door to her aging home, I draw in a breath through my nose and let it slowly out of my mouth to give myself the courage to focus. It shouldn't take this much effort to open a simple door, but I guess I'm more scared of what I might find than I realize.
I yank the door open, pulling it toward me and shift to the side to see Annette's empty backyard greet me. "Hello?" I call out. "Is anyone there?"
Nothing but a gentle breeze responds.
Shaking my head, I decide to close the door and deadbolt the lock. I return to the living room, chuckling to myself for letting a few noises scare me.
Minutes later, I'm back into the film and have lost my thoughts in the simple plot, enjoying the laughs as they come. At least I know I can still stand to watch such a movie. My depressing life hasn't ruined my sense of humor yet.
After ten minutes, I grab myself a glass of juice from the kitchen and rush to the paused movie. The main character is frozen on screen, pulling an awkward face as I sit down. I take a big gulp of the liquid right as the large TV switches off.
"What did I do?" I ask myself.
I hit buttons on the remote and cuss under my breath. I was enjoying the film and now the damn TV is broken. How am I going to explain this to Annette? Frustrated, I go to leave the room to look for something else to do when I realize the floor lamp I had on beside me is also off.
Creeping up to the dusty brass pole, I hit the switch with my foot a few times. The power to the house must be off. "That's just gr—"
The same loud bang smashes harder than before on the rear door. I stumble back and away from the direction of the thump and realize I'm not alone. I check the time on my cell and know that Ava and Annette won't be home for another hour and a half. Is someone trying to break in?
I look for something I can use to defend myself with and find nothing in the living room worth a damn. Fearing the worst, I charge for the kitchen to grab a sharp knife. The biggest one slides out of its holder into my hands at the same moment as a realization hits my brain.
This is the exact time during the week when Corey has no students in his classroom.
64
Katherine
I don't know what to do. The heavy pounding on the rear door continues as I remain in the same place on the hardwood flooring of Annette's house. It has to be Corey out there coming to follow up his attack on me while I'm all alone. I try to yell to ward off the threat, but my voice only comes out as a trembling squeak.
My body shuts down. I close my eyes, trying to make him go away. Then the noise stops.
I exhale my shaky breath and stare at the back door from a safe distance. "Hello?" I cry out too softly. No one responds. The large kitchen knife in my hands shudders so much I'm convinced I might drop it. I have to pull myself together and do something, anything to get out of here before it's too late. God knows I won't be able to use the blade in my hand to defend myself.
"Hello?" I call out again. Still, I get nothing in return. All I hear are the birds happily chirping as if there isn't a murderous psychopath lurking around the backyard of Annette's house. If only I could fly away at a moment's notice.
After more time than I am proud to admit passes by, I will my legs to function. They have to pull me toward my phone so I can call for help. But I can't seem to hold my attention on anything other than the back door. All my mind sees is Corey bursting through any second to charge at me. My head throbs.
Waking from my crippling fear, I rush to my cell in the living room and attempt to scoop it up with sweaty hands. I take far too many attempts to unlock the damn thing with my thumbprint, so I'm forced to punch in the passcode instead before the device locks me out.
Once I get into my cell, I stare at the home screen unsure who I should call. I want to get the police out here more than anything else, but I also don't want them rushing out only to find nobody. The limited number of officers in this region have already marked me down as a liar, given the lack of evidence I had to prove I knew my attacker. They still think I tripped over backward and struck my head on a rock, but there was nothing like that at the scene.
I could call Annette to rush home and do a sweep of the perimeter to scare Corey off but then I'd be putting her in danger. I don't want to be responsible for her falling into harm's way, so I get my answer.
My call to the police is taking longer than it should. The operator asks me too many questions. If Corey finds an entry into the house, I'll be dead before help can arrive. "Please. I need you to send some officers right now. Someone is outside about to break in. If that happens…" My voice trails off. I can't finish the thought out loud without a lump in my throat forming.
"Take it easy, ma'am. Two police officers are on their way to your location as we speak. Stay on the line with me and remember to breathe."
"Okay. I will," I say, feeling some relief slow my increasing heart rate.
"Now, what I need you to do is find somewhere safe to hide. Can you think of anywhere in your friend's home that could be a good option?"
My head spins around with thought. If only I could get into the basement, I could probably hide myself well and barricade the door, turning the space into a makeshift panic room. Why did Annette have to lock it?
"Ma'am?"
"Um, I'm trying to think of something."
"Can I suggest the bathroom? Perhaps one upstairs."
"Okay," I say as I slowly head for the stairs in the next room. The knife leads the way, extended out to make myself look as imposing as my cowering body will allow. I don't know why I'm expecting Corey to jump out, but every wall I can't see behind only serves to frighten the hell out of me.
"When you get into the bathroom, I suggest you lock or block the door as best you can and then lay down and hide inside the bathtub. Can you do that for me?"
"I'll try," I reply as I reach the bottom of the stairwell. My eyes run up the length of the wooden steps and see the darkened landing. Not much light reaches the top floor hallway based on the house's design.
One creaking step at a time, I ascend while checking over my shoulder for anyone silently following me. I know such a thing would be impossible in this old house, given that every square inch of the floor makes a noise when you walk over it. Still, I need to check.
"Are you there yet, ma'am?"
"Almost," I whisper. I still have to travel another dozen or so feet at the top of the stairs before I can make it to the bathroom.
As I reach the second floor, I hear the thump again on the lower level. "He's back," I half shout into my cell while my legs lock in place.
"Calm down, ma'am. Everything will be okay. I need you to find the bathroom like we discussed and quickly and quietly make the room secure."
"I… I can do that. I have to." The cell falls away from my face for a moment as I try to slow down my breathing. I can't let this crippling panic take over my system. Not yet.
"Ma'am?" the operator's voice calls out. "Are you there? Hello?"
"I'm here," I respond as I move toward the bathroom. My grip on the knife tightens so much my knuckles turn white. When I get to the bathroom door, I hear shouting coming from downstairs. "He's yelling out to me," I whisper into my phone.
"Ignore that. Focus on what needs doing."
A louder bang echoes throug
h the lower floor and reaches my ears, reverberating throughout the house. I shut my eyes, squeezing them tight to block out the terror charging for me from below. But I can't concentrate. All I can see is Corey's damning face. Why does he hate me so much? How could he have hurt me the way he has?
"Ma'am?" the operator shouts.
"I'm here."
"That's good. Have you barricaded the bathroom?"
I move into the tiled room and shut the door gently. The large knife in my hand finds its way on top of the vanity. I search for a means to stop Corey from charging in here if he breaks into Annette's house.
"There's nothing I can use to barricade myself in," I say, realizing the consequences of my discovery.
"Does the door have a lock?"
I check three times and only find an old handle and a keyhole. "I'd need the key, and it's not here."
"That's okay," the operator says as if none of this is a problem.
The voice shouts out again. I can't understand the words from up here, but I know it's the deep rumblings of an angry man. More thumping follows. "He's getting madder. He's going to find me."
"We won't let that happen, ma'am. Search around and go through the cupboards. There has to be something you can use to block up the door."
"Okay, okay. I'll try again." I place my cell down and open the vanity. Nothing jumps out at me. I look in the bathtub and shower combo. It's empty. There's no magical device that will prevent a furious man from plowing through the bathroom door. "There's nothing here," I yell out to myself as the noise below continues.
"Ma'am?" the operator calls through my cell. I don't have the courage to tell her I've come up empty or that I'm ready to give in. But then I see the answer before me, sitting there all along.