You Deserve Nothing - Alexander Maksik [41]
“Can you explain why?” She wrinkled her forehead.
“They didn’t tell you?”
“Something with the métro?”
“Something with the métro? Yes, I saw a man murdered. He was pushed in front of the train.”
“Awful.” She shook her head and spun a heavy silver pen on her desktop.
“I understand there was a student there?”
“Gilad Fisher.”
“And he didn’t come to school either?”
“That’s correct.”
“Did you tell him that would be O.K., Will?”
“We didn’t discuss it. It wasn’t really an option.”
“Why was that?”
I looked at her for a moment and then said slowly, “Because there was a dead man under our train.”
“And so the métro wasn’t running,” she said. She picked up a piece of paper and studied it. “The trains began running again at 11:45. So you decided you’d take Gilad to a café rather than return to school?”
“I didn’t decide anything. It was a disturbing thing to see. To say the least. Gilad saw more of it than I did. He was upset. The métro station, as, perhaps you can imagine, was in chaos. I thought it best for both of us to leave there.”
“I understand, but don’t you think, Will, it would have made more sense to have brought him to school where he could have spoken to a trained psychologist?”
“What psychologist?”
“Cherry Carver, the school’s psychologist.”
“Cherry Carver? She’s a math teacher. Why would I want Gilad talking to her of all people?”
“Cherry Carver is the school psychologist, Will.”
“Since when?”
“Since the beginning of the school year.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I am serious. She did a course over the summer. I’m sure an announcement was made.”
“I didn’t know.”
“That’s not what is at issue here. What is at issue is that you kept one of our students out of school because you felt that you were qualified to counsel him. You refused to provide a sub plan and you neglected all of your day’s classes. It was bad enough that you didn’t come to school. That you kept a student with you opens us up to a lawsuit. I’m sorry, Will, but what you’ve done is difficult to excuse. You have a responsibility to this school. You didn’t fulfill that responsibility.”
My hands were sweating. I could feel the rush of adrenaline. I stared at her. She stared back until eventually she spoke.
“I understand that you were trying to do the best you could for Gilad. I have to trust that you made the decisions you did with Gilad’s best interests at heart but you have to remember that your job is to teach literature, not to counsel our students. Will? Do you have anything to say?”
I shook my head.
“Well,” she said, “if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
“Is there anything else?”
“In fact there is, yes. The reason that Omar was here earlier is that he’s concerned by one of your classes.”
“Omar?”
“Al Mady. Mr. Al Mady tells me that Abdul feels very uncomfortable in your class. What is it?” She looked down at her notes. “Senior Seminar, is that right?”
“Abdul Al Mady is in that class, yes.”
“Apparently, Abdul feels uncomfortable.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Is it true you’ve told the students that,” she looked down at her notes, “that God doesn’t exist?”
I laughed. “No, it is not. While I am confident that I’m a good teacher I don’t feel that I’m in a position to comment on the existence of God.”
“Do you believe God exists?” She gave me a stern look.
“You don’t, honestly, expect me to answer that question.”
She waved her hand as if swatting at a fly. “The point is that Abdul feels isolated, he feels that he’s under attack, that his religion is under attack.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s important, Will, that our students feel at ease in their classes.”
I smiled.
“That’s something that I feel very strongly about. We are here for our students, to provide a supportive environment, to make sure that they feel good about themselves, so that they leave here with high self-esteem. I want each of our students to leave our school with the sense that they are, in their own ways, special.”
“And Abdul doesn’t feel special? Is that Mr. Al Mady’s concern?”
“Omar’s concern, Will, is that Abdul is under attack in your