That evening was uneventful. I ate dinner, read, and watched a little baseball on TV. I went to bed earlier than usual, for no particular reason. By ten o’clock, I was asleep.
The phone rang at 10:30.
I reached in the dark for the phone on the night table.
“Hello,” I said, rubbing my eyes and turning on the light.
“Harry,” said the voice on the other end. “It’s Barbara.”
Barbara Harris, middle school principal.
“Barbara,” I said, clearing my throat. “What’s going on?”
Barbara paused for a moment. “Well, it seems you’re the talk of the town tonight, Harry.”
“How so?” I asked, knowing full well what was coming.
“Harry, I received at least ten calls this evening. From parents of your students. Would you like to explain to me what went on in class today?”
By now I was sitting up in bed. I wasn’t sure how to answer. “It’s about the assignment then, huh?” I asked quietly.
“Yup. How about starting from the beginning? There was apparently some sort of religious discussion in class? Is that right?”
“Well, yes. One of the kids asked a question about human migration, and I mentioned that the Israelites migrated to Egypt. It seemed appropriate, given the Easter week. But honestly, Barbara, it was no big deal.”
“And what about this homework assignment? Was that ‘no big deal’ also?”
“Well, it was a last second impulse. The kids were walking out of the room, and I had to give them something to do because I had cancelled tomorrow’s test. So I told them to write something about Moses.”
Barbara was silent for several seconds. “Why?” she asked finally.
“I really don’t know, Barbara. I truly have no idea. We had just discussed him, and I had been thinking about him all day. I just blurted it out. Is this really that big of a deal?” I asked, knowing full well that she wouldn’t be calling me at this hour if it wasn’t.
“I’m afraid so, Harry. I had some very unpleasant conversations with some very annoyed parents tonight. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my evening. What were you thinking, Harry? Teaching about the Israelites in class? Science class, for God’s sake!” Her voice was now raised. I had never heard Barbara raise her voice like this.
I felt a pressure begin to build in my head. My face grew hot. I had no idea what to say. Part of me couldn’t really believe this was happening.
“I don’t know what else to say, Barb. As I said, I followed an impulse.”
“What about your discussion during class? Was that an impulse?”
“I suppose. I don’t know. Look, I can’t believe this is causing such an uproar. If the parents don’t approve of the assignment, then the students don’t have to do it.”
“Look, Harry, I’ve got some pissed off parents, and they are demanding that something be done. I left a message with Dr. Mercer, but I haven’t heard back from him.” Dick Mercer was the school district superintendent. I cringed when Barbara mentioned his name – there had always been something awkward and unspoken between Dr. Mercer and I, though I bore him no ill will. He simply had an air about him that rubbed me the wrong way – big man, big ego, that sort of thing.
“OK,” I responded, not knowing what else to say.
Barbara continued, “I’ll let you know what we decide, and I’ll call you first thing in the morning.”
“Right,” I said. “I really hope this all blows over. Honestly, Barbara, I had no intention of causing any trouble. I still can’t believe this could be that important.”
“Well, we’ll see. Truthfully, I don’t see the big deal either – you made an error in judgment, but I don’t think you meant anything by it. We just have to hope that our concerned parents see it that way, too. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I hung up the phone and sat there in bed. I realized that my heart had been pounding heavily throughout the conversation. The muscles throughout my body were tense. I needed to get out of bed.
I swung my legs around and onto the floor, slid my feet into the old pair of slippers I kept there, and walked out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen. I felt as though I were in a dream.
I reviewed the conversation with Barbara in my head. She had sounded pretty angry.
I felt bad for her. She didn’t deserve this. It was all my doing, yet she was now caught in the middle of it. And the worst was yet to come – Dr. Mercer would NOT be happy. He was as adamant as anyone about keeping religion out of our school district. He had been the first one to shoot down my idea to teach a religious studies course, so I knew he would be less than pleased to hear that I had discussed the Israelites in class today. I shuttered.
What could I do now? I felt like I should do something, but what? Nothing. All I could do was sit and wait. Wait for that phone call in the morning.
I spent the next hour thinking in circles. I went back and forth between “this is no big deal – it will all blow over” and “damn, I really screwed up.”
There were two scenarios – either it would all be fine, or it wouldn’t.
What would be the worst that could happen? Could I lose my job over this? No way, I decided. I was an extremely respected member of the teaching staff. I had no enemies (until that day, that is). And other than poor attendance over the past year, I had no strikes against me.
No, it would all blow over, I decided. Stop thinking about it, I told myself. Go get some sleep. One more day until Easter break.
I turned off the kitchen light, walked back to my bedroom, kicked off my slippers, crawled into bed, and turned off the light.
I glanced at the clock before closing my eyes.
It was exactly midnight.
