The seconds thumped their molasses feet through her ears as they ticked by. She checked again, only 11:32. Why had she always loved giving in-class essays? Today would have been a great day for a class discussion, anything to get her talking, to take her mind off Phoenix. The rhythmic swish and scratch of pencils continued, the air sent the sleep-deprived groans and the smell of pubescent sweat swirling around her. She stood up to pace the classroom, methodically glancing at papers here and there. Jenny Thomas clearly had been checked out for the last two weeks; her essay told how the main theme of Pride and Prejudice was racism after the civil war. It was large and sprawling, the words stretching as far across the required two pages as possible. Another glance, 11:35. Lunch would never come, the news would never come. Carmen convinced herself that she would perish amidst a flurry of poorly composed literary criticism papers before she ever heard word of her husband’s pending promotion.
A click at the door and she whirled around to see an incoming student, an office assistant. She darted towards him so quickly that the worn nub of her mary-janes caught the leg of Kristen Farlow’s desk and she suddenly found her face smashed into the salmon-tinted linoleum that she glared at every chance she got. Before she had realized what had happened, a cold runny sensation was spreading itself across her hidden face. The unmistakable smell of salt. This cannot be happening she kept repeating over and over again. Then the chatter came; stifled laughs, a few gasps and some courteous, “Are you okay Mrs. Bradley’s?” Terror gripped her. The only thing more terrifying than teaching high-school, was lying on the floor of your classroom bleeding, only able to imagine the talk that was about to spread across the school like a brushfire.
As soon as the shock lifted enough to allow her to raise up off the floor, a senior, Jake Thomas was helping her to her knees. Kristen had gone for some Kleenexes and she shoved them into her nose as quickly as possible. Pain seared through her whole face. Broken, her nose was most certainly broken. Hannah, always a sensible student, had rushed out for the nurses office and the office assistant that she now recognized as Kalvin Grier only stared at her, mouth agape, eyes glossy.
I’m ssssss….oooo sorrrrrrry,” he muttered.
“Iths sokay Kaaabiiin,” she managed through the tissues.
“Mmmmmmissses BBBBBBradleeyyy…”,
“Yesthhh?”
He gulped hard, “This is for you…” he handed her the long-awaited for yellow slip of scrap paper that she thought would never come. She jerked it from his hands before they were fully extended, glancing down at the words she was prepared to read. But they weren’t there:
You have a delivery waiting in the office from your husband.
Read the neatly curled script of Miss Mona the secretary.
Just then the nurse rushed through the door with Hannah and the in-school substitute Mrs. Rose tailing behind her. She came to Carmens side and lifted her gingerly to her feet.
“Mrs. Rose is prepared to take your classes for the rest of the day. We need to get you to a doctor. I’m afraid it’s as bad as it must feel dear.”
Then the tears came. Not the tears she expected to cry that day. Not the tears that would foretell her leaving her town, her life that she had loved for all these years. Not the tears that promised more money, a fresh start, leaving family and friends behind. They were not as painful as those tears, but they welled up to twice their normal capacity due to the emotion trapped inside of her.
Three weeks, they’d been stuck in limbo. She started to feel queasy. For two years they’d talked of having a child. She recognized the lunch room they were walking through but the colors were faded, blended, blurry. For eight years they’d dreamed of an easier life. Her knees gave out and everything faded.
The harsh smell was what finally woke her. She felt herself sliding around the vinyl covered infirmary bed in the cramped office. She looked up to see Nurse Waddell huddling over her, a flashlight beaming in her eyes. When she turned to the side, something that she wasn’t expecting caught her eye, a massive, bouquet ,a rainbow of flowers spilling out of a tall vase. It was something fit for teen-love, surely this was for a student that had recently occupied the bed. Then she uncurled her hand and glanced down at the crumpled yellow paper she was still holding. Sure enough, the card propped up next to the flowers read
Dearest
She had only ever heard one man in the world say that sweet, stinging word. She heard it often, to the point of annoyance. With hesitation, she reached for the card. Before opening it she closed her eyes and privately wished Colorado Springs a bitter farewell.
Carmen, I got the promotion. I turned it down. I found the pregnancy test. I love you.
Everything blurred again, this time for the tears that were fixing themselves on the inside of her swollen eyes.
We’re staying, she thought. We’re staying.
