Teacher's Aide

*Author’s note: I work around a lot of retired Navy and Marine Corps F-18 pilots, and this story is based on something a retired colonel recently told me. He has a retired Marine friend who lives on Fleming Island in Florida who took a job as a teacher’s aide several years ago. He didn’t end up marrying her, but she did have serious mobility issues caused by complications during childbirth, and she deeply appreciated the many things he did for her.

*****

“Chelsea? I think the best thing to do is ask the county to hire an aide. I know how independent you are, but when I watch you walk, I actually hurt for you,” the elementary school principal said.

“No, you’re right. I hate to admit it, but it’s true. Just walking from my car to my classroom takes me five times as long as it used to. And going up that flight of stairs is…awful.”

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t sure you were coming back until the day yesterday, and by then everyone’s rooms were set.”

“I understand. I’m not complaining, Diane. It’s just the way life is for me now,” the younger teacher explained.

“I also know you don’t want sympathy, but when I think about what happened, I…I have to tell you, Chelsea, I still cry.”

Chelsea Tanner was 28 and the mother of a two-year old boy named Bryce. Her son was the only good thing to come out of the events surrounding his birth, after which his mother nearly died. 

After some 30 hours in labor, her attending physician told Chelsea it was necessary to perform a C-section. After a brief moment with her husband they agreed to the procedure. During it, the doctor somehow nicked her uterine artery without noticing it until after she was sewn up. 

The doctor left the OR and minutes later her blood pressure began dropping. By the time the doctor was called back and had scrubbed in, her pressure was so low the hospital’s lawyers had been summoned. The doctor opened her back up, repaired the small tear, then re-closed the wound, angry at himself for having missed something so serious. 

On advice from those attorneys and the hospital administrator, the doctor wasn’t allowed to speak to the family. Instead the lead attorney delivered a carefully-worded explanation to the family outlining what had happened without admitting culpability. They tersely informed her husband and her parents that Chelsea was unlikely to survive, and if she did, there would almost certainly be complications. They wouldn’t tell them what those complications might be, but everyone knew this was serious. Extremely serious.

After 48 very intense hours of waiting, hoping, and praying, Chelsea pulled through, but there was indeed damage. To everyone’s relief, there was, at least from the initial tests they’d run, no damage to the brain, and she was able to speak normally although there were concerns with her short-term memory. 

It was another three days before she was strong enough to try and walk, and that’s when the most serious problem made itself known. 

Chelsea’s ability to walk had been severely impaired. At first, she could barely take five steps with the aid of two nurses and a walker. 

More tests were run, and Chelsea was provided physical therapy at no expense, most likely in the hopes she might not sue the hospital for that, too, and with time, she saw slow, gradual improvements. 

The truth was she’d never given any thought to a lawsuit. Her primary concern was for Bryce, who was, by all accounts, perfectly healthy. Beyond that her focus was on learning to walk again with the ultimate goal of getting back to the thing she loved most—teaching.

All she’d ever wanted to be was a teacher, so when she enrolled in Florida State University, the only decision for her was whether to major in elementary or secondary education. That too, had been an easy decision as she truly loved young children, and her hope upon graduation was to be able to teach sixth graders. 

Most of her peers wanted to teach anywhere from Kindergarten through third grade with most dreading being assigned to a classroom with older children. But not Chelsea. For her, that age was ideal as the students were old enough to begin to understand things like sarcasm but still young enough to be sweet and polite.

Now, almost two years later, neither she nor her doctors fully understand why she’d lost so much mobility, but she had finally gotten enough strength back in her legs that she could walk short distances with great effort. She felt strong enough to return to the classroom, and although her principal was very concerned about her ability to teach, she was determined to do everything she could to give her the opportunity. Her two main concerns were the issues Chelsea told her she had with short-term memory and mobility. 

Walking was an essential part of the job as elementary school children had to be accompanied by a teacher, an aide, or other staff member everywhere they went on campus. At no time could they be allowed to go anywhere by themselves. Yes, a student could be sent to the nurse’s office or to another room, but at least one other student had to go with them. But when they moved as a class, they could never, ever do so without a staff member accompanying them. So while Chelsea could indeed walk, she simply couldn’t go back and forth to the cafeteria and then to PE or music or the library, let alone up and own the stairs, day in and day out.

Walking was not only painful, Chelsea had no endurance. Never a runner or fitness nut, she’d never had issues walking any distance or doing anything most people could do. But that was no longer the case, and even short walks, like from her car to her room, wore her out. And that’s where the need for an aide came in.

Over the roughly two years since giving birth, Chelsea had also lost a serious amount of weight. She wasn’t a big woman to begin with, but she’d always joked about a small amount of what she called ‘tummy flab’ even before getting pregnant. She’d hovered around 130 pounds all of her adult life, and for a woman who was 5′ 6″ she was very much ‘height/weight proportionate’.

Now, however, she struggled to maintain 110 pounds, and found eating to be almost as big a chore as the physical therapy she still attended two days a week. The only redeeming feature she had left that hadn’t been decimated by the trauma was her face. While the rest of her body was rail thin, Chelsea still had a normal-looking face which was what people saw first, and the thing by which they decided whether or not someone that thin was possibly anorexic. 

No one had ever thought Chelsea was beautiful beyond a kind of generic sense of the meaning in which a woman like her could be ‘beautiful’ for reasons other than having a gorgeous-looking face. She was by no means un-attractive, she just wasn’t someone who turned a lot of heads when she walked into a room. But her positive outlook and cheerful disposition made her someone most people who met her wanted to have as a friend.

She now often joked about how she’d always secretly dreamed of being a size 2. Now that she was, the reason she’d gotten there made her long to be a size 10 again.

“So what do you think? Today is the first day back for teachers and that gives us four more to find someone. I’ve already talked with the Superintendent and she’s willing to hire an aide, but we need to let her know because that money has to be taken from somewhere else.”

“I’d like to say give me a couple of days to think about it, but just walking from my room to the cafeteria for the welcome-back meeting left me exhausted. I still have to get back up to my classroom, and just the thought of it is overwhelming. There’s no way I could walk a class anywhere let alone to all the places they need to go each day.”

“Okay. Then I’ll call the county again and let them know we need someone,” the principal said. “In the meantime, is there anything at all I can do to help?”

Still upbeat, at least most of the time, Chelsea said, “Do you have a spare set of legs?”

Diane Pokorney, her principal, tried to smile as she said, “No. Sorry. Fresh out, I’m afraid.”

“Then I guess I better get going.”

Chelsea stood up, steadied herself with the ‘Hurry-cane’ that now accompanied her everywhere she went, then slowly turned herself around.

She smiled and thanked her principal then began the long, slow walk back to her building and the dreaded flight of stairs.

*****

“So you gonna be subbing again this year, Dad?” 

“No. No way. I’ve had enough of that. But it’s funny you asked me that right now because I literally just hung up with the county office not thirty minutes ago asking what else I could do.”

“What do you mean? You’ve got a masters degree. Can’t you pretty much do anything?”

His father chuckled then said, “No. I’d have to take one of the certification exams if I wanted to teach. And I’d have to be a teacher for some minimum number of years to be an administrator and take a bunch of other classes. I spent nearly 20 years of my life in formal classrooms so I’m pretty much done with that.”

“I guess I knew that. I just wasn’t really thinking about it,” his son replied. “So…what can you do? Other than subbing?”

“The woman I spoke with at the county office said she’d put my name in the ‘support pool’ which evidently is a term they use for people who um…support other people. And the ‘other people’ would be teachers.”

“Oh. So…you’d be an aide then?”

“Pretty much. There are other ‘support’ jobs like custodians and secretaries, but I can’t exactly see myself answering phones all day or pushing a broom.”

His son laughed then said, “Yeah. That’d be a sight. I can just see you swabbing decks.”

“Hold on there, junior,” his dad said. “I’m not too proud to do that, it just doesn’t hold any interest for me.”

“No, I get it. You always worked around the house doing any nasty job that had to be done, and as a retired colonel you sure as hell don’t need the money.”

“Yeah, it’s just mind-numbingly boring sitting around here by myself, you know? I don’t have any interest in being a government contractor for any amount of money, and I’m not the Home Depot type.”

His son laughed again then said, “You’d make a helluva Walmart greeter, Dad.”

‘Dad’ was 6′ 2″ and just under 200 pounds of what was still pretty much still rock-hard muscle. At 53, retired Marine Corps colonel Pete Harke (pronounced HAR-kee) was what most people thought of when someone said ‘Marine’. 

He was considered a very good-looking guy for someone his age and had the typical, very masculine-looking square jaw and a nicely-tapered body that was in superb condition. He still wore his hair fairly close-cropped, although the temples were now graying and the gray area seemed to grow a little more every week. It was supposedly ‘distinguished’ on a man his age, but it just made him feel…old.

He and his late wife, Gayle, had retired to northeastern Florida five years ago after Pete completed his 26th year on active duty. He had no chance, and no interest, of becoming a general officer, and there was nothing new left for him to do, so he’d hung up his spurs and let his wife, who’d faithfully followed him around the country and the world, decide where to live in retirement.

She’d narrowed it down to Charlotte, North Carolina, and Jacksonville, Florida, and as the time arrived to make a final decision, Gayle hadn’t said a word. So, in his typically direct manner, Pete told her he’d decided where they should go.

“Oh, okay. Me, too,” she replied.

“Seriously? Great! I uh, I think we’re gonna love Charlotte,” he told her assuming it was a done deal.

“Charlotte? We’re not moving to Charlotte. We’re going to Florida,” Gayle informed him and that was that.

He’d initially hated the idea because it was so warm and humid there for so many months, but after living there for a year or so, he loved having Naval Air Station Jacksonville just 15 minutes north on Highway 17 from their very upscale home on Fleming Island. He was over there every day using the fitness center or the pool, and once a week or so buying groceries at the commissary.

While Gayle was still alive, he was thoroughly content to be a ‘house husband’ even thought their only child was in college, and let Gayle pursue her interests while he took care of everything she’d done so well and so willingly the entire time they’d been married.

Their son, Trevor, was himself now a Marine Corps officer, and getting close to finishing the next phase of flight school. He’d gotten ‘fixed wing’ after his initial training, and would be finding out which jet he’d be flying in a few more days. Or at least that’s what Trevor hoped, knowing full well that fixed-wing included C-130s and MV-22 Ospreys, both propeller-driven aircraft. 

His dad loved to kid around by telling him he’d get C-130s, the Marine Corps’s four-engine refueler and cargo plane, but Trevor didn’t think that was funny in the least.

Pete laughed at the Walmart comment then said, “Yeah. I might not be too good at that, either.”

Trevor chuckled then did his ‘Dad’ imitation which normally came out as a growl.

“Welcome to Walmart. Here’s your fuckin’ cart. Have a wonderful day. Now—move!”

Pete laughed even though he rarely swore and raised his voice even less often. He learned early on officers didn’t yell, as there was no need to. And it was a whole lot better for everyone involved to simply say, “Could you take of such-and-such for me?” knowing it would be done immediately no matter how he requested it be accomplished. 

“Anyway, this aide thing will give me the chance to see if I like bein’ around other people’s kids all day. If I do, who knows? Maybe I’ll take one of the teacher certification exams and give that a whirl.”

They shifted gears and discussed Trevor’s hopes and dreams of flying either the F-22 or the F-35 for a few minutes then talked about some other family stuff before they got ready to wrap up their weekly phone call.

“Call me as soon as you get your platform,” Pete told his son.

“Will do, Dad. And let me know if you get hired and what you’ll be doing.”

“Wilco,” his dad told him before hanging up.

He set the phone down, and when it rang just seconds later, he was sure Trevor had forgotten to tell him something.

He was glad he checked caller ID before answering it with something like, “What the f***, Lieutenant?”

It said ‘Clay County Schools’ so Pete slid the button to ‘Accept Call’ and quietly said hello.

“Mr. Hark?” the woman on the other end said, mispronouncing his name.

Rather than correct her, he politely said, “Yes.”

“Yes. Hi. Um…we spoke just an hour or so ago, and well, I have a support position that opened up a few minutes ago. You called to ask what else was available, and well, this literally just became available.”

“Oh. Okay. Wow. That was fast,” he said looking down at his watch. 

She gave him the name of the school and the principal and told him to give her a call to set up an interview.

“An interview. As in…today?”

The woman laughed politely then said, “That depends. You should call today, but the interview won’t not be until she’s ready to see you.”

“Wow. There goes my golf game,” Pete said even though he didn’t play golf.

The woman asked if he had any other questions, and when he said he didn’t, she again encouraged her to call the school as soon as possible.

He’d tried substitute teaching the second half of the last school year, but in spite of his rather intimidating physical appearance, school-aged kids weren’t impressed. Anytime there was a substitute, nearly every class did its best to push the sub to his or her limits, and he’d gotten his fill in short order and stop accepting calls to fill in.

Even so, he was almost willing to sub again to avoid spending any more time alone than he had to. Since Gayle’s passing a little over a year and a half ago, his entire life seemed empty and almost meaningless. 

Now, with no one to live for, and nothing to really do, this ‘aide thing’ might not be such a bad deal.

He sat down, looked at the number she’d given him, then decided, “What the hell. Why not?”

The school secretary patched him into the principal she told him was named Mrs. Pokorney. She, in turn, told Pete how happy she was he’d called her before explaining the situation.

“I have a young teacher who has serious mobility issues. I’m not at liberty to say any more, but I’m pretty sure she’ll have no problem telling you why once you get to know her. Anyway, you’d basically be her legs, although you’ll also be in the class with her nearly all the time. Since she teaches reading, you might be asked to read to the children or help them in small groups. Would this be something you’d consider doing?”

He didn’t need any time to think about and said, “Yes. That sounds perfect, actually.”

“Wonderful. Then let’s get you in here for an interview so she and I can meet you.”

The principal checked her calendar then proposed the following morning at 9am.

“That works. I’ll be there at nine,” Pete told her.

“Oh. I see here on your file you have a masters degree. Am I reading that correctly?” the principal asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly. “That is true.”

“Interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone work for me or even known of anyone with an advanced degree working as an aide. But as long as you’re happy doing so, I’ll be looking forward to having you on our team.”

Pete thanked her for the call then went to make sure he had a suit pressed and ready to wear, even though knew he did. In fact, he had two of them, but not checking wasn’t in his DNA so he went straight to the closet and selected not only the suit but the shirt, tie, shoes, and belt he’d be wearing with it.

With that settled he took a look around and wondered, “What now?”

He had a daily routine that helped him pass the time, and if this aide thing worked out, it would kill seven hours a day, five days a week. He’d be working six of those hours with a half hour for lunch plus commute time. 

Financially, the pay was laughable. It was so low it made him shake his head. But if it kept him busy that would be great. If he actually got to know the kids and enjoyed being around them, that would be a huge bonus.

And yet, without Gayle, it all seemed like…well, the saying ‘vanity of vanities’ came to mind. It was all nothing but marking time. He wasn’t really living, he was really just existing. So far, no matter what he’d tried, Pete couldn’t find anything to give his life purpose again. So for now, at least, he rigidly clung to his regimented lifestyle and would give this a whirl and keep his fingers crossed. And with the passage of some more time, maybe one day he’d even want to meet someone else.

He looked at his watch, heaved a sigh, then with no other decisions on the horizon, asked himself again, “What now?”

Pete was up at 5am without the aid of an alarm. He hit the head, Marine speak for going to the bathroom, then sat down with a cup of coffee in the dead silence of his home. Once ‘the urge’ hit he’d take care of business then head outside while it was still ‘only’ 75 degrees and ungodly humid in early August, and go for a run before it got really hot. 

He’d never been fast, but Pete Harke could run forever. He plodded along at about an 8:30-a-mile pace then turned around after he hit the three-mile mark and headed home. 

Out of habit, he was mentally timing everything so he’d be ready to leave the house at 8:40 for the ten-minute drive to Fleming Island Elementary School leaving him time to find a parking spot and still be a couple of minutes early.

Once he was dressed, Pete tried to remember the last time he’d been in a suit, and a sick feeling washed over him when he realized it had been for Gayle’s funeral. Otherwise, it had been at least five years prior to that. At any rate, he took a quick look at himself, and once he was satisfied that was the best he could do, he grabbed his wallet and keys and headed to the garage.

Gayle’s nearly-new car was still parked where it had been since the last time she’d driven it. He started it up occasionally to make sure it still ran, but it hadn’t been driven in a very long time. 

Pete drove a fully-loaded 2017 Jeep Cherokee Limited in what was called ‘Light Brownstone Pearl Coat’ which seemed like a lot of words to describe a color he couldn’t pin down. Gayle would have known. In an instant. 

All he knew was he loved the vehicle, and he’d bought on a whim one day hoping to distract himself from the ever-present grief, and it had done the trick. For maybe three days. And then it became old hat. He had less than 5,000 miles on it some 15 months later, and nearly all of that came from driving up to the Naval Air Station to work out.

He did his best to clear his head as he wondered what his first-ever job interview would be like. He nearly laughed out loud when he briefly wondered if he should have done some preparation.

“It pays $15,000 a year before taxes,” he told himself. “It can’t be all that difficult.”

He found a spot out near a tennis court that looked like it rarely got any use, parked the Jeep, then headed toward the office. There were no kids in school yet, so parent pick-up was empty except for one vehicle from the county.

As he reached for the door, an attractive, younger woman saw him and opened it for him.

“Good morning!” she said very pleasantly as she eyed him up and down.

“Oh, hi. Good morning,” Pete replied.

“Please tell me there’s something I can help you with,” the 20-something teacher said with a very bright smile on her pretty face.

Before he could reply, an older woman, whose voice he recognized said, “There’s nothing you can help him with Ms. Winters.”

The older woman smiled at him then said, “But I believe I can.”

The younger woman rolled her eyes then let him go by her.

“You must be Mr. Hark,” she said, still botching the name.

“Um…yes,” he told her. 

“I’m Diane Pokorney. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please come with me.”

As they passed by several other women and one younger man, Pete knew they were whispering—and staring—at him. He also knew why but didn’t care. He just followed the principal outside then under a covered walkway and finally up a flight of stairs that required him to reverse direction once.

“Ms. Tanner’s room is 216. So two doors to our left.”

It was open so the principal said, “Knock, knock!” then walked in.

“Diane! Hi. Good morning,” the younger teacher said.

Just as Pete stepped into the room Chelsea was saying, “Did our 9 o’clock…”

She stopped talking when she saw him and sat there in stone-cold silence.

“Chelsea Tanner? Pete Hark. Pete? Chelsea Tanner.”

He smiled as he walked straight over to her then extended his hand as she continued to stare.

“Chelsea?” Diane said wondering if she was experiencing some sort of ‘brain freeze’.

“Oh. Yes. Good morning. Pete…right?”

“Yes. Pete. Harke,” he said making sure Diane could hear the ‘e’.

“Oh, okay. So the ‘e’ isn’t silent,” Chelsea said, now smiling herself as she looked back at the paper on her desk with his personal information on it.

“No. The ‘e’ demands its day in court,” he told her with a smile.

Both she and the principal laughed before Diane asked him to have a seat.

Diane went over the kinds of things he could expect to do, again emphasizing how he’d mostly be taking the kids everywhere they needed to go.

“Would you mind reading to the kids?” Chelsea asked. “Even my voice gets tired easily now.”

“Sure. Anything. I’m not one to look at a job description. If I accept it, I’ll do anything I’m asked.”

“I’m just curious, Mister…Harke,” Diane said, clearly pronouncing the ‘e’. “Why you’re doing this isn’t my business. We’re very glad to have you. Trust me on that. But I really am curious.”

Pete took a minute or so to quickly explain his former career, the passing of his wife, their son’s impending graduation from flight school, and his brief-but-unsatisfying fling with substitute teaching.

Both women told them how sorry they were for his loss then told him they understood his very justifiable pride in his son’s accomplishments. 

“We have several Navy wives on staff here and one retired Navy man who teaches fifth-grade math. I’ll introduce you on our way out,” Diane told him.

They chatted for maybe five minutes before Diane asked Chelsea if she had any more questions for Mr. Harke, and she said, “No. I think I’m good.”

“All right. Well, she and I will discuss this later on, and I’ll call you with our decision,” Diane told him as she stood up indicating the interview was over.

Pete knew it wouldn’t be grueling, but he almost laughed at being told that was it.

They dropped by the retired ‘Navy guy’s room and Pete shook hands with him after being introduced. He was probably around 40 which made sense if he enlisted at 18 and retired with 20 or even 22 years.

The other man didn’t even say ‘hello’. All he heard was ‘Marine’. The first thing out of his mouth was, “What’d you retire as?”

Taken aback, but not letting it show, Pete calmly asked, “In terms of rank?”

“Yeah. Lemme guess. You were a…gunny. Am I right?”

When Pete hesitated, the other man said, “No? Okay. So…you were a master sergeant, huh? That’s not bad. I was up for senior chief myself but turned it down.”

“Oh, I never made master sergeant,” Pete replied calmly.

“Okay. So you were a gunnery sergeant. Hey, I retired as an E-7, too.”

“Right,” Pete said with a smile. 

“Listen, maybe we can sit down and swap sea stories one of these times,” he said before asking without so much as a pause, “so what subject are you teaching?”

Diane jumped in and told him, “No, Pete’s going to be working as an aide. To Chelsea. He’ll walk the kids around campus for her.”

The other man’s demeanor changed immediately now that he felt he was talking to a mere ‘subordinate.’

“Oh, okay. Well, it takes a lot of time going to night school to get a degree. It’s not easy, and that’s not for everyone. Trust me, I know from personal experience.”

He gave a dismissive look at Pete then said, “You’re getting up there, but you’re not too old to do that yourself, you know.”

Diane was smiling but didn’t say a word.

“I’ll uh, I’ll give that some thought,” Pete said as politely as he could.

He told the retired Navy chief it was good to meet him but only got, “Yeah. Uh-huh,” in return as the other man, who’s name was Mike, refused to even look at him let alone shake his hand.

Diane was surprised by the cold shoulder treatment and told Pete so once they were well out of earshot. 

“I honestly thought you’d really get along. You know, with both of you being ex-military.”

Pete had only just met this…Mike guy…but it appeared he might have a bit of a chip on his shoulder. It was unfair to decide so early, but Pete had met many hundreds of Marines and quite a few sailors over the years and was pretty sure he was right. Even so, it didn’t matter as far as he was concerned. They were both retired and there was no rank. And yet Mike seemed to want to laud it over him that he was a teacher while Pete was but a lowly aide. 

“C’est la vie,” Pete said to himself.

To Diane he said, “He’s probably just busy getting things ready for when the kids get here.”

“Right. Yes. That makes a lot of sense,” he replied.

They stopped just outside the office to say goodbye to one another when Diane noticed a half dozen female teachers standing there looking and pointing.

“I’d say you’ve created quite a stir, Mr. Harke.”

He glanced inside and got a range of reactions from smiles to a wave to eyes that quickly looked away to an air kiss.

“Oh. Um…sorry?” he said with a smile and a shrug of the shoulders as he turned back toward her.

Diane laughed then said, “Listen, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I know Chelsea really likes you.”

When Pete smiled Diane immediately thought about her young teachers and said, “No. Not…not like that.”

Pete chuckled and said, “I wasn’t thinking that. All of these girls… Sorry. Most of these younger teachers are almost young enough to be my daughters. Chelsea included.”

“I’m not supposed to say this either, and I haven’t even said the first thing I was going to tell you yet, but you are a very um…distinguished-looking man, Mr. Harke.”

He laughed again then asked, “Is that code for…old guy?”

Diane laughed, too, then assured him it wasn’t before getting back to the first ‘taboo’ topic.

“I’m going hire you. Just please don’t tell the county I said that until after the offer is formalized. It’s a big no-no to directly tell anyone you do or don’t plan to hire them.”

“No worries,” he told her. “And thank you. I really need to spend as little time around the house as possible.”

“I can’t imagine,” Diane said supportively. “My husband and I divorced four years ago, and it was for the best, so I have no regrets. But losing someone you love? I really can’t imagine, and I am truly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind, Mrs. Pokorney,” he told her.

“Diane. Please. I’m not big on the whole ‘principal’ thing. I taught for 16 years before becoming an administrator, and my main goal is to help teachers help kids learn. So…Diane is just fine.”

“Well, thank you, Diane. And I’d prefer Pete, but you’re the boss,” he replied. 

“Then Pete it is,” she told him. “So the county office will be calling you. They have some pre-employment training everyone has to sit through, and that’s where you’ll fill out all the paperwork, etc. Once that’s done, you’ll be all set to start helping out.”

“Sounds good, Diane. I’ll take of care of everything I can on my end as soon as possible.”

She smiled, extended her hand, then wished him well. Pete did the same and headed home. Or rather…back to the house. The big, empty house where he lived alone.

It was a little after one o’clock when his phone rang, and once again, the caller was someone named ‘Clay County Schools’ so he answered it with a cheerful ‘hello’.

The mandatory training Diane mentioned was being held the following day at 8am at the county office, and Pete told her he’d be there with his social security card, DD-214, and the other paperwork she told him he’d need.

The training was four hours in length and covered standard topics like sexual harassment and every employee’s legal requirement to immediately call a 1-800 number in the event they so much as suspected a child was being abused. 

Pete knew that sort of thing happened all too often, but most of what got reported was teacher-student misconduct with students in high school or occasionally junior high. But this was referring to the kinds of things that happened mostly at home where someone on whom the child was dependent was destroying their child’s trust in adults, and in many cases, causing emotional scars that would never heal. Just the thought sickened him, and he hoped he’d never have to deal with it.

He’d had more than his share of unpleasantries having spent two tours in Iraq and two more in Afghanistan. In addition, there were the kinds of disciplinary infractions officers and Staff NCOs regularly dealt with from Marines bouncing checks to being drunk and disorderly to the kind of ‘hanky panky’ that took place with married Marines’s spouses far too often.

But they were adults, and these were children. The school had a pre-K program so children as young as three attended. Pete could only shake his head at the thought of any adult doing anything to any child, let alone one that young.

Other than that, it was standard fare, and although he wasn’t required to go into work until the following day, he drove to the campus and stopped by the office to let Diane know he was available.

“Oh. Um, just so you know. If you stay, you won’t get paid for today,” she reminded him.

Pete tried not to laugh, then very quietly said, just in case other aides he didn’t know were nearby and might take offense, “I won’t really be getting paid tomorrow, either.”

Diane ‘got it’ and tried not to laugh, but between his very pleasant sense of humor and his…even more-pleasant good looks, she found herself laughing anyway.

He told her he was going to head upstairs, and as he went to leave, there was another small gaggle of younger, female teachers standing there waiting to talk to him.

“So,” one of them said with a smile. “We understand you’re a part of our little family now.”

She was probably in her early 30’s, very cute, and there was no wedding ring on her hand. Pete intentionally raised his left hand up to his chin, left it there then sort of rubbed it before answering to make sure she saw his. 

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Well, if you need any help with anything—anything at all—I’m in room 137 just out the door and five doors down on your left, okay?”

“Oh. Sure. Thank you very much,” he said as he went to step around here.

“And my name’s Wendi,” she let him know.

“Wendi. Got it. I’m Pete.”

“Uh-huh. I know,” she said in a way that caused one of the other women to groan with embarrassment.

She looked at the other woman then smiled before saying, “We all know.”

The other teachers were much less forward and politely introduced themselves letting him know what grade they taught and where their rooms were. The difference was there was no implication about his feeling free to drop by at all, let alone—anytime. Several of them mentioned their husbands and their children, and two expressed their condolences for his having lost his wife.

He took the time to politely chat with each one of them as he filed away who they were and where their rooms were before finally getting out of the office. 

As he headed for the building where Chelsea worked, Wendi also left the office and ran up beside him.

“Hi, again,” she said with a smile. “I uh, I thought I’d show you where the teacher’s lounge is and where your box is located. Someone already put your name on it, so may I give you a quick tour?”

“Of course,” he told her even though Diane had already pointed out where the lounge was located.

Pete opened the door for her, and Wendi smile brightly and said, “Handsome and a gentleman. I’m impressed.”

He smiled but didn’t reply as she pointed out the obvious like the snack and beverage machines.

“And…this is where our boxes are. See? Yours is right here. Pete Harke,” she said making sure to pronounce the ‘e’.

“And this is my…box,” Wendi told him while sort of loosely pointing toward some boxes on the wall across from them then slowly-but-deliberately turning her index finger to a place where Pete wasn’t about to look. 

They were the only people in the room, but Pete didn’t give that a second thought until she spoke again.

Wendi looked right at him then said, “I like older men, Pete. Especially handsome, older men. So if you wanted to say…check out my box…you could do that anytime.”

He wasn’t sure when the last time was he’d heard the term ‘box’ used for that part of the female anatomy, but he was definitely familiar with the usage. He was also used to being flirted with although that rarely happened anymore because he’d become a kind of recluse who rarely left home except to run, swim, or go to the gym.

“Ah, I see,” Pete told her as he saw her looking up at him and smiling in the way he remembered Gayle looking at him whenever she wanted to ‘go to Funky town’, their code word for making love.

“So if you need help—of any kind—you just let me know, okay?” she told him as she ran a finger from the top button on his shirt to just above his naval.

“So much for sexual harassment training,” he said to himself after telling Wendi he knew where to find her.

He excused himself then bounded up the stairs and nearly ran into Mike who was coming down.

“Whoa! Easy there, Jarhead. You uh, you might wanna try looking up once in a while,” Mike told him as though he was talking to a young sailor.

“I’ll make a note of that,” Pete told him.

“You headin’ to Chelsea’s room?” Mike asked him.

“I am.”

“Damn shame. The whole thing. They not only nearly killed her, but her jerk of a husband left, too.”

“What?” Pete asked not sure he’d heard correctly.

“Yeah. The guy evidently bailed a couple of months after their kid was born. I never really asked her about it, but the word is he couldn’t deal with a wife who couldn’t, you know…”

Mike took a look over his shoulders then started thrusting his hips.

He was standing on the step above Pete so they were at eye level when Mike leaned in a little closer then said, “Can’t say I blame him, you know? I mean, can you imagining being that age and never bein’ able to get some?”

Having spent his adult life around military types, and most of them men, nothing surprised him anymore, but some things still disgusted him.

He didn’t dignify the comment with a reply. Pete just said he should probably get going.

“Yeah. Right. You uh, you gotta big job there…Gunny,” he said rather snidely as he slapped Pete on the shoulder with some papers he was carrying and folded in half to hit him with.

For the second time in several minutes, Pete shook his head as he got to the top of the stairs and saw the door to Chelsea’s room was closed.

He knocked quietly and heard a pleasant, “Come in!”

He opened the door and smiled as Chelsea realized who it was.

“Pete! Hi. I didn’t expect you until tomorrow,” she told him.

“I uh, I thought there might be something I could take care of for you today so I swung by after we finished with the training at the county office.”

“Oh, right. That’s some quality stuff, huh?” she said with a pleasant smile.

Pete laughed and told her the best part was being done with it.

Chelsea laughed, too, then said, “I do have a few little things, but unless you can get my room switched to the bottom floor, that’ll be it until tomorrow.”

She said it in a way that made it clear she thought it wasn’t possible then started to tell him what the little things were.

“I’ll knock all of those out for you, but can you give me a few minutes to take care of something?”

“Oh. Sure. Of course. You’re not even supposed to be here today, remember?” she said with the same happy smile on her face.

He headed back to the office and saw Diane talking to a man about his age and his height he hadn’t seen before, so he waited until they finished.

“Oh, Pete! Hey. I want to introduce you,” Diane said when she saw him standing there.

The other man turned to face him, and Pete saw a name tag on his shirt that said ‘Doug’.

“Doug is our head custodian, and he’s also retired Navy. I was just telling him about you, and then you walked in.”

The two men shook hands and unlike Mike, Pete could tell he and Doug were going to hit it off.

“Nice to meet you,” Doug said. 

“You, too,” Pete told him before saying, “I have a question for Diane that I think may involve you. Can you stay for just another minute?”

“You bet,” Doug told him.

Pete explained the problem and offered a solution to it before Diane said, “I’d love to move her, but the custodians are swamped this time of year. And making matters worse, one of them is out due to a family emergency.”

“I can take care of it by myself,” Pete told her. “I just didn’t know if I might need keys or something only Doug would have.”

“That’s a lotta work, buddy,” Doug told him.

“I’ve got nothing better to do,” Pete told him jokingly even though it was the gospel truth.

“I’ll take photos of both teachers’ rooms then recreate them exactly as I move everything around. If that’s okay.”

“I like this guy!” Doug told Diane.

“Yes. I think he’s going to fit in quite nicely around here. I’ll go over with you and let Ms. Bonaro know you have my approval. She won’t be happy, but…oh, well.”

“And let me know if I can help with anything,” Doug told him before they shook hands again.

Pete turned to leave when Doug said, “Oh. Have you met Mike yet?”

Pete started laughing, and as soon as he did, Doug roared.

“I take it you have!” 

“Oh, yeah. Let’s just say we’ve ‘run into each other’ a couple of times already.”

“Okay. So you don’t need me to give you a ‘heads up’ then.”

“No. I pretty much broke the code during our first encounter.”

Doug laughed again then said a little more quietly, “I call him Mr. One-Upper.”

Pete gave him a puzzled look so Doug explained.

“Oh, you haven’t seen that part of him yet, huh? Well, you have something to look forward to then. Let’s just say…if you’ve climbed Mount Everest, Mike’s pole-vaulted over it. With one hand.”

Pete laughed again then told him about the ‘you must be a gunny’ encounter.

“That’s Mike. He’s got this need to be the Big Dog at all times. Which is funny because he’s…”

Doug made sure no one else could hear as he said, “A short shit.”

Doug was at least six-feet tall, too, and Mike was probably about 5′ 8″ and maybe a buck fifty—soaking wet.

“He was testing the waters with you,” Doug added.

He leaned closer again then said, “That’s the kind of ‘dick dance’ he does with everyone about everything. No matter what you’ve done, he’s done it better, smarter, or faster.”

“Well, forewarned is fair warned, right?” Pete replied.

Doug laughed again then said he needed to get going.

“Right. Unlike me you actually work for a living, don’t you?” Pete said.

Doug stopped, smiled, then said, “Diane told me you were an officer. But because I like you, I’m not gonna you sh…grief…about me working for a living.”

Pete laughed, too, then said, “Okay, fine. But I could say the same thing after you made chief.”

Doug roared again, pointed at Pete, then said, “Oh, yeah. We’re gonna get along quite well.”

Pete told him he agreed then said, “As far as who we used to be, the key words are ‘used to’. Now we’re just…”

It was his turn to lean in as he said, “Joe Shit the rag man.”

Doug roared a third time then shook hands one more time.

“You’re all right, Pete.”

“For a Jarhead, right?”

“Hey, I can tell good people when I meet ’em,” Doug said as he waved before leaving the building.

Diane was in Chelsea’s room by the time he got back there himself, and he wondered what he’d done wrong when he saw her crying.

“Oh, here he is now,” Diane said who had a hand on Chelsea’s shoulder. 

She turned to Pete and said, “I think someone is very grateful.”

“Oh. I’m…I’m glad,” Pete said, visibly relieved those were tears of joy.

“These stairs are a real challenge, and I should have insisted on moving her. I’m just glad you took the initiative. I came up here to let Chelsea know and to apologize for not pressing the issue myself.”

No one said a word so Diane excused herself and again told them to call if she could help.

“Are you okay?” Pete asked once they were alone.

“Yes. Sorry. I…I get emotional very easily now, and when I heard I was moving downstairs and it was because of you, I just…”

There were some tissues just out of her reach so he grabbed the box and set them next to her.

“Thank you,” she said before grabbing one. “It’s been a real challenge for me trying to adjust to my new life. Such as it is.”

“I can only imagine,” he told her sympathetically.

“Well, you, too. I just feel so sorry for you,” Chelsea said as she dried her eyes. 

Almost immediately, the smile was back as Pete explained what he planned to do.

“What’s most important to me is making sure you have everything you need to continue your planning. So if at any time you need something you just let me know, okay?”

Chelsea smiled then said, “I have no idea why you, of all people, are here doing a job…excuse me for saying this, Pete, but…so far beneath you.”

He didn’t say anything knowing she had something else to say.

She looked right at him then said, “As Diane said, I’m just very grateful you are.”

Pete was able to finish moving both teachers but it took a lot longer than he’d anticipated because Ms. Bonaro was a no-kidding pack rat. 

Long after the last teacher left campus, Doug stopped by and offered to stay late and help him. Pete thanked him but refused the offer, but he did need a favor in order to stay once the last custodian went home. 

Specifically, that meant Doug trusting someone he barely knew with the key to the main gate, which Pete made sure to lock on his way out. He also showed up at 6am when Doug started work the following morning and handed him the key when he drove up.

“Thanks, shipmate,” the retired Marine said to the retired sailor.

“Anytime, Marine,” Doug told him. “You goin’ home and coming back?”

“No, I’ll just stay here and find something to do until Chelsea gets in.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Doug said with a laugh as he unlocked the gate.

“But I will need you to let me into the room.”

“You don’t have your own key yet? Follow me.”

Doug opened the office then opened the assistant principal’s door and finally opened a box that had all of the school’s keys in it that hadn’t yet been handed out.

Doug held out the single, gold key and said, “There you go.”

As he walked to his new classroom, Pete thought back on all of various assignments he’d had over the years to include command of a Marine regiment with just over 2,000 Marines at his beck and call. Now here he was feeling good about getting his own key to a room that wasn’t even his so he could walk kids he hadn’t yet met around a campus he still wasn’t familiar with.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” he said quietly with a chuckle as he unlocked the door and turned on the lights.

Chelsea needed to be there by 8 o’clock so at 7:45 Pete went out to the parking lot and waited for her to arrive. When he saw her pull in he smiled and waved at her then walked over to her car. Once she turned it off, he opened her door and told her ‘good morning’.

His presence was met with a warm, genuine smile, and a, “Good morning to you, too, Pete!”

He watched her slowly and painfully lift and turn her legs to get out of the car and noticed she winced several times. Once her feet were on the ground, she pulled out her cane and opened it up.

“Here. Let me help,” he said as he moved closer to let her use an arm for support.

She put her left hand on top of it but still struggled to stand up. Pete slid his hand under her armpit and lifted her. His first thought was she was light as a feather, and his second was how horrible he felt for her having endured so much avoidable pain at such a young age.

“Thank you,” she said, still smiling once she was standing up.

Chelsea took two steps, and once she was clear of the door, Pete said, “I got it,” and shut it for her.

She took one slow painful step before he caught up then said, “Would you be embarrassed to let an old man lend you an arm?”

“No. Not at all,” she told him. 

She put her free arm in his and rested her hand on top of his forearm then said, “Especially if the old-er man is such a gentleman.”

Pete smiled then said, “You forgot ‘dashingly handsome’.”

Chelsea laughed a genuine laugh, looked up at him and said, “I was thinking…roguishly handsome…but, okay!”

By the time they got to their classroom, Chelsea was out of breath.

“So how did you ever get up those stairs?” he asked as he opened the room door for her.

“Well, I’d stand there for a couple of minutes catching my breath then go up one step, catch my breath again, then go one more.”

There really wasn’t anything for Pete to say, but Chelsea did thank him again for moving her downstairs.

“Well, that was Diane. I couldn’t have made it happen without her,” he tried saying.

“Yes, but had you not pushed her, she wouldn’t have done it. I love Diane, but she hates conflict. Any and all conflict. She’ll placate a parent to avoid suspending a child then placate the teacher when asked why the kid is still in school.”

“Oh, wow. Yeah, that wouldn’t have worked well in my former life.”

Chelsea laughed again as he helped her get to her desk. She thanked him one more time then said, “You were in the Marines, right?”

Pete didn’t tell her that Marines never said ‘in the Marines’. They said, “I was a Marine, I was in the Marine Corps, or ‘in the Corps’ but never ‘in the Marines’.”

“Yes. Yes, I was.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I did. Not every single day, of course, but yes, I really did enjoy it.”

“That’s wonderful. I really admire those who serve in the military and as first responders. I’ve also enjoyed teaching since my first day in the classroom. Everything was always about the kids and getting the best lesson plan possible so they’d not only learn but have fun doing it.”

“Has that changed?” Pete asked rather gingerly.

She thought for a moment then said, “I don’t know. I still love being here, and I’m excited about the kids coming in on Monday. It’s just so much more difficult, you know? If not for my mom watching Bryce, this might be too hard to do now.”

She smiled again then added, “I would also say that without your help this would be impossible to do.”

She saw the way Pete was looking at her so she asked him if there was something he wanted to say.

“No. It’s none of my business,” he said with a smile.

“No. I want you to be ask me. We’re going to be stuck in this little room five days a week until the end of May, so we need to be able to talk to each other, don’t you think?”

Pete smiled again then told her, “Good point.”

“So…ask me,” she repeated, smiling back at him.

“Okay. I was wondering if your husband is still involved in your life. More specifically, I guess, I’m talking about with regard to your son.”

Her smiled disappeared and Chelsea looked away causing Pete to feel like he’d crossed a line in spite of what she’d just said.

“Hey. That’s okay. You probably have things for me to do anyway, right?”

“I do, but I want to answer your question,” she told him as she looked back up at him.

Pete waited for her to collect herself then Chelsea tried to answer him.

“He uh, he felt…overwhelmed by everything. He wasn’t wild about having a child so soon after getting married, but sometimes things happen, you know? I wasn’t ready, either, but once I found out I was pregnant, my attitude changed completely, and I wanted this baby more than anything. Then on top of that, there was the problem that caused all of this, and on top of that there were medical bills on top of medical bills. So about four months after Bryce was born, Dennis, my husband, told me he needed some space.”

“Space. Okay,” Pete said trying not to let sarcasm creep in.

“I was in physical therapy five days a week, he’d already missed a ton of work, and I wasn’t getting paid beyond the unemployment money that ran out after a year. Anyway, he moved out and I was absolutely devastated. My mom and dad were furious, but I convinced them not to confront him, and they convinced me to move back in with them. A few months later, Dennis’s need for ‘space’ turned into being served papers notifying me he was filing for divorce, and I had no interest in contesting it. So now I’m 28 years old, have a two-year son, can barely walk, and owe close to…well, a ton in medical bills.”

“May I ask another personal question?” Pete said.

“Sure.”

“Are you by any chance suing the doctor or the hospital?”

“I do have an attorney, yes. She agreed to take me on on a contingency basis. So far, she’s filed the suit against both the doctor and the hospital, but we’re nowhere near a trial date or a settlement. She keeps gathering information while the hospital keeps trying to put up roadblocks, and the doctor isn’t allowed to talk to us. So while that’s a long answer to a short question, it’s the best I have.”

“I’m sure you’re already tired of getting sympathy from everyone, so I’ll quit saying how sorry I am,” Pete began.

“Thank you. I really am ‘up to here’ with all the ‘I’m so sorry comments’ even though I’m sure they’re sincere.”

“I understand. I went through something similar with Gayle’s passing.”

“I guess that’s better than being told ‘sucks to be you’, right?” Chelsea said surprising Pete and causing him to laugh.

She laughed, too, and for the first time, he saw her not as someone who was quasi-disabled but as a caring person with the same needs as everyone else along with a warm smile and a very pleasant sense of humor. 

When she smiled, he couldn’t help but think she was actually kind of…pretty…in a way he couldn’t quite explain. Pretty was such a broad, generic term that it could mean almost anything, but he really did think the word applied in her case. Then again, he was here working for her so how she looked was irrelevant.

“So could you take care of that for me, please?” he heard Chelsea say.

He was obviously somewhere else, lost in his thoughts, when she asked him to do something.

“My apologies…boss,” he said with a smile. “What was that?”

“Boss. That’s funny,” she told him. “I was saying we need copies of every story in the little cubbies in the back of the room.”

Pete remembered moving the lattice work of boxes downstairs and now knew exactly what she meant.

“Okay. How many of each?”

“Well, we have five classes a day times…let’s say 25 kids…plus maybe five extras? Each?”

Like many women, Chelsea tended to ‘give orders’ in the form of questions. Pete knew she was telling him to make 150 copies of each story. That wasn’t the hard part. What was the fact that there were roughly 50 stories and, if they were just one page in length, still that added up to, well, a lot of copies.

“Do we have that much paper?” he asked.

“Um, no. But it’s never been an issue. You just go to the copy room and print them. When the reams of paper get low, we tell Diane and she orders more.”

“Isn’t there some way to do that many copies that doesn’t involve one person taking up a machine for what will be a very long time?”

“No, not really. And the last day before kids arrive is usually pretty crazy in the copy room so you could be waiting for a while. But I don’t see another alternative. Do you?” she asked.

“Well…I do have an idea,” he told her as he got up and went to the back of the room.

He grabbed the cleanest copy he could find of each story, some of which were several pages long which now upped the total by hundreds of extra copies.

“Do you need me to do anything else before I get started on these?” he asked once he had what he needed.

“Um…no. Not now anyway. But when you get back, we need to make up name cards for each student. I set them out in alphabetical order on the first day, and that makes getting them seated easier, and it also helps me remember their names. Once I memorize a name, I take the card away. In the past, that would be 2-3 days max for all five classes. This year, I’m very concerned because my short-term memory is still nowhere near what it used to be.”

“Got it. Let me get working on these, and…oh. Do we have enough 3 x 5 cards or whatever you’re thinking about using?” he asked.

“Dang it!” he heard her say. “You see? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I meant to have my mom pick those up yesterday and completely forgot about it. Even talking it about it just now I had no idea I didn’t have them here in the classroom until you asked.”

“No worries. I’ll take care of it,” he told her with a smile.

“The school doesn’t provide those, I’m afraid. So I’ll have to pick them up tonight. It’s no big deal,” she said, also with a smile.

Pete looked at his watch then told her he’d be back in less than half an hour.

“Um, unless you’re a magician, you’re going to need a lot longer than that.”

Pete laughed then said, “I’m not a magician, but I am going to work a little magic.”

He started to walk away and saw Chelsea watching him.

“Okay. If you say so,” she told him.

“Oh, I do say so,” he said back with an even bigger smile.

“Uh-huh. You’ll learn,” she said sweetly. 

Ten minutes later, Pete was at an Office Max located just two blocks from the school and in less than five minutes, he had the order completed and paid for along with several packs of 3 x 5 cards.

“You can come back and pick these up anytime after noon today,” the young woman who helped him told her.

“All right. Thank you very much. I’ll see you then,” Pete said.

When he walked back into the classroom, Chelsea looked at the wall clock then at his hands which were empty except for a bag from the store she’d often used herself.

He set the bag down then asked if she had the class rosters so he could start on the name tags. Which weren’t tags but folded 3 x 5 cards.

“Did you take all those copies off campus?” she asked as she handed him the rosters.

“I did,” he told her.

“Um, do you have any idea how much that’s going to cost?”

Pete laughed as he answered her.

“I not only have an idea, I have the exact amount right here.”

He pulled that receipt, which was in the bag with the cards and flashed it as he sat down to get started on the next task.

“Pete? I can’t afford to pay for copies anymore. I used to do that myself all the time. But now…”

“You’re not paying for anything,” he told her with a smile as he opened the first pack of index cards.

“Wait. Did you somehow get Diane to agree to pay for those?” she asked, the disbelief in her voice audible.

“No. I didn’t ask her,” he replied as he got out the list for their 1st-period class.

“Then she’s not going to pay for them. And I can’t pay for them,” Chelsea, the disbelief turning to worry.

“No. It’s already taken care of,” he told her as he began carefully folding cards in half.

“Wait. How is it taken care of?” she asked.

He looked up at her, smiled, then said, “You see, I have this thing called a credit card. It’s pretty amazing. You just hand it to someone and they give you stuff or tell you it’s taken care of.”

“Hah, hah,” Chelsea said flatly. “Pete. You can’t be spending that kind of money on stuff for my classroom!”

“Oh, I thought it was…our classroom,” he said pretending to be hurt.

“Stop!” she said once she knew he was teasing. “Yes, it is ours, but you can’t be spending that much money. I know you have a pension or something, but I also know people in the military don’t make very much money. I’ve heard many times it’s less than what teachers make, and we make…well, not a lot.”

As someone considered a 4th-year teacher with a bachelor’s degree, Chelsea made just over $42,000 a year. Dennis paid child support, and she no longer had a mortgage payment, but between her car, food, gas, insurance, clothing, and the endless medical bills, she was in a sea of red ink.

His last year on active duty, Pete’s base pay alone was just shy of $8,600 a month. In addition he got a housing allowance of $2,500 a month or base housing at no cost plus additional money for food. He and Gayle had socked a way a ton over the years, and when she died, Pete collected an additional $100,000 from a policy they’d paid on for since he was a first lieutenant. 

He owned his home and Jeep outright and had more money than he’d ever be able to spend, especially considering how he never went anywhere or did anything. So a couple of hundred dollars was chump change.

“I get by,” he told her quietly. “Financially speaking. So don’t give it another thought, okay?”

“I can’t help but think about it, Pete. That’s my responsibility, and I can’t pay for it.”

“Then I’ll think of some other way you can pay me back. Deal?”

When he smiled at her, Chelsea’s cheeks turned slightly red and she looked away immediately.

“Did…did I give you all five class rosters?” she asked as she quickly shuffled through the stack of papers on her rather messy desk.