Fact or Fiction?

The book kept glowing. It was after midnight and it wouldn’t open. I didn’t know what to do. It was freaking me out. Finally, I pulled up my father’s contact list.

The phone rang five times before a groggy voice answered.

“Is this Dr. Zebula?” I asked, glaring at the book still.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Ophelia Ramsey. I’m sorry it’s so late and I have an… oddity in front of me that I need you to come look at as soon as possible.”

“Ophelia? Byron’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Zebula cleared her throat. “What kind of oddity?”

“Enough to make me want to check myself in to a psych ward,” I answered. “When can you be here? I’ll pay whatever you need.”

“I can be there in three days.”

“Thank you,” I said and hung up. “I’m going to get you figured out,” I snapped at the book. “Stop glowing!”

-

“You look like shit,” Lucy said when I walked into the store the next morning.

“Thanks,” I grumbled, throwing my purse into my office and flopping myself down in the chair.

She followed me in with a worried frown.

“Did the date go that bad?”

“No, the date went fine,” I sighed. “I just have a book at the house and it’s…. I don’t know. It’s not important.” I cleared my throat. “I have a meeting with the principal at the high school in two hours. Can you handle the store while I’m gone?”

She gave me a fake salute. “Yes ma’am. By the way, your truck load of candy came in last night after you left.”

I laughed. Lucy always thought I bought too much but, once Halloween was over, she and I ate the bulk of what remained.

I went to the back and whistled. Shit. I did buy a lot more than normal this year. I stretched. I had always been a bit of a perfectionist and wanted to sort everything by flavor and make. So, for an hour and a half, I opened the boxes and made piles. Lucy would look in occasionally and shake her head at me.

“Lots of wasted time if you ask me,” she said. “You’re just going to mix it all together.”

“Shoo,” I said. “I’ll be back soon.”

She nodded and went out to the front again when someone came in. I didn’t know why Principal Harrison wanted to speak with me but, as usual, I felt a little nervous. I hadn’t done anything wrong but high schools always made me nervous.

I had gone to this high school and, every time I want in, the halls seemed smaller than normal.
Students were switching to classes and some stopped to stare as if they hadn’t seen an adult other than their teachers and staff. Come to think of it, they probably didn’t.

I knocked on the office door and poked my head in. The secretary, Mrs. Bacon, beamed when she saw me and pulled me into a tight hug. Mrs. Bacon had started as the secretary when I was a junior. She was my main cheerleader when I started writing seriously.

“It’s so good to see you!” she said. “Mr. Harrison is waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” I smiled and knocked on his door.

Mr. Harrison was old. Bitterly old. His back was bent and he shook as he walked, gripping a cane so tightly his knuckles went white. He grinned when he saw me, though, and offered me some hot chocolate.

“The weather just gets colder and colder,” he sighed, sitting back behind his desk. “How was your last tour?”

“Great,” I said, drinking the hot chocolate carefully. “How have you been?”

His smile fell. “Not good, Miss Ramsey,” he said and I slowly lowered the mug. “I’m sick.”

“Like, with a cold?” I asked and he smiled at me.

“Oh, don’t play stupid,” he said and I sighed.

“How long?” I whispered.

“Six months,” he answered. “I need your help.”

“What can I do?”

“I’m going to have to retire after winter break,” he said slowly. “I need someone to keep an eye on the school until graduation. I have a new principal lined up but she won’t be able to start until fall term.”

I blinked at him until it hit me.

“You want me to be the temp?” I asked and he smiled tremulously at me.

“Yes. You know this school really well and the staff all love you.”

I sat back. “This is a huge decision, Mr. Harrison,” I said. “Really huge. What about your vice?”

He curled his lip. “That man has no ambition. You know why he’s not here today?” he asked and I shook my head. “He claimed his wife is sick but I got a phone call from a teacher that saw them at the basketball game.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Some people,” I mumbled.

I looked out his office window as he watched me. Mr. Harrison had also been a huge supporter when I was working on my first book. I spent many hours in this very office during lunch working on revisions and asking for his advice on whether or not something worked. I owed him a lot.

But to watch a bunch of high school kids for five months? I would be away on tour by then…. But he looked desperate and something told me I was his last resort.

“When do you need my answer?” I asked.

“In one week if you can manage it,” he said. “That’s when fall break is over and I’ll have a definite answer from my doctor.”

“Okay. I’ll give it some thought and let you know.” He beamed and was about to stand but I stopped him and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “You’ve always been really good to me, Mr. Harrison. I’ll never forget that. I’ll see you in a week.”

“Good bye,” he said and, as I shut the door behind me, I saw him reach for a tissue.

-

“Holy shit,” Lucy said with wide eyes.

She walked in on me sitting among the piles of candy, numerous wrappers around my legs.

“He’s dying,” I gasped, unwrapping a Twix. “Wants me to be the temp principal for five fucking months. I can’t do it, Luce! But he doesn’t have anyone else!”

She sighed and took the Twix from my hand. I glared at her.

“You’ve had enough, dear,” she said, looking at the wrappers. “Although, I guess it’s better than alcohol.” She sighed and sat beside me. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I hate teenagers,” I sighed. “They’re rude; especially the ones in this town.”

“True,” she said slowly. “But you love Mr. Harrison, right?” I nodded, wiping some chocolate off my lips. “I’m not trying to guilt trip you here, but the man’s dying. He could use some peace of mind, don’t you think?”

I looked at her. “I didn’t even think of it that way….”

“It’s only five months, Ophelia,” she said. “It’s not like you’re going to be there permanently.”

“But I’ll have to oversee graduation,” I breathed. “According to him, the vice principal is a dick.”

She snorted. “He said that?”

“Well, he didn’t use those words exactly.” I told her about where the vice principal was and she made an angry noise. “Exactly. Something tells me I won’t be getting any help from him while I’m there.”

“What about Mrs. Bacon? She’s been there forever. Surely she could help you out.”

I nodded slowly. “You’re right.” I sighed. “I’m going to do it but I’m going to need you to really step up here.”

She scoffed. “Of course.”

“No, Lucy, I’m serious.” She looked at me, frowning at my tone of voice. I held her gaze. “You’re going to have to run everything. I’ll be able to come by on the weekends but you will be here during the weekdays on your own with Marcey and her belly button lint.”

Lucy laughed a little. “I know. How about this?” she said finally. “You can start training me on everything you do – that includes the manuscripts. By the time January comes around, I should know enough to take it on for the time being.”

I gave her a one armed hug.

“Thanks,” I said and she hugged me back.

“What’re friends for?”