Alice, part eight
Sep 24 '08
The Bottom Line Copyright 2008 David MacDonald
Alice was at the Superstore, pushing her cart through the maze of grocery aisles along with the dozens of others who were filling their carts with their weekly supply.
She almost didn’t recognize one of the other shoppers, who approached her with her own cart as both of them were at the diary section. But when Alice’s eyes met hers, she began to question what this woman actually said to agitate her lover that evening.
“Hello,” said his ex. “I think... I saw you at the clothing store?”
“Yes...yes...” Alice nodded, a bit embarrassed.
“Looking for some good deals?”
“Yea... but it’s hard, you know. After that big meat recall, you just don’t know what you can buy anymore that won’t kill you.”
“Oh, everything will kill you in the end, dear,” teased the ex. “The company shouldering the blame just got unlucky. They got caught. I’m sure half the stuff I have in this cart is nothing but junk - and yet I feed this to my kids.”
“Well.... I guess I’m more fortunate. I’m only poisoning myself,” Alice said, taking a deep look at some of the products and the brand names nestled in her cart. “So... how are your kids?”
“Oh, they’re well, no thanks to their dad.”
“Oh.... “ Alice sighed, once again realizing how dishonest she was by anonymously eavesdropping on this woman’s troubles.
“My son got sick last week, a major ear infection,” the ex said. “The poor kid was crying, and I took him to the hospital. It was serious enough that the doctors figured he had to stay in for a few days. I couldn’t bear to leave him alone there so I took a couple days off work. It didn’t bother me - I’d rather Brandon be with his mom.”
“I see...” Alice said. She was afraid where this was going.
“I .. just wanted Thomas to help me out. I called him Sunday to ask if he could stay for the evening. Just so I could get some rest and be ready for work on Monday morning. It wasn’t too much to ask, I thought. So I called him once.. he said he was busy, and hung up. A few minutes later, I tried again to see if he would actually speak more than five words to me, and the phone was busy. I called a couple of times after that and there was no answer. I’d like to know what was taking him away from seeing his own son....”
Alice began to feel guilty, ashamed, angry. She wanted to grab Thomas by the neck and strike him repeatedly with something. And she wanted someone to do the same to herself, for being such a damn fool.
The ex was getting emotional, her eyes tearing up. “I’m sorry,” Alice said. “If only I knew....”
The ex smiled, a curious expression as if she wondered what Alice meant. “I doubt there’s much you could do. You look like a very nice woman... but don’t worry about me.”
“I .. just don’t understand why he would do such a thing....”
The woman rolled her eyes. “I almost feel sorry for whomever Thomas was speaking to. It may possibly have been that woman Brittany told me about - one of her teachers from last year.”
Alice wanted to sneak away and hide somewhere, perhaps underneath the produce or between the rows of shopping carts. Anywhere, just to suppress her sickening urge to come clean to this woman.
“It’s not her fault,” the woman said. “She’s just a third party to this whole thing. It’s not even really her business. She shouldn’t worry about it, although I’m sure she’d feel like a fool if she knew all that went on between him and I....”
She dabbed her eyes with Kleenex. Alice wished she could assist her with that. “I suppose... I suppose she would....”
“I just hope when Brandon grows up he’ll realize he’s not to blame. They never are, even when we act as if they are, when we treat them like pawns in our own stupid games....”
The woman was able to retain her composure as she spoke. “I hope Brandon doesn’t become like Brittany ... she changed so much, and I feel so helpless. She used to be such a talented girl. She loved to play and have fun, she was so full of energy. She liked to draw, she even liked to paint. But then.. after the divorce, she changed. She lost interest in everything... and I feel so much to blame.”
The woman didn’t whine or complain. Her words were merely cold hard facts. Alice didn’t want to contend with these issues any longer. She just wanted the woman and Thomas to run off and solve their own problems, and keep her out of the picture.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Alice said, but she knew her words wouldn’t be effective. Alice and the woman soon wrapped up their conversation, saying they better get going and head to the checkout, and went their separate ways.
*
“Hey, Alice,” Nancy said, as she stood at the doorway of the computer lab. “How are you feeling today?”
“Hmm... what do you mean?” Alice asked. She had been overseeing some of her students as they were learning how to use search terms properly on Google and other search engines, for research purposes. During the class, she had a running commentary in her mind which included a cynical belief that she was only making it easier for her students to search for helpful cheat sheets for when next they turn in their papers of questionable authorship. She was now logging off the computers for the day.
“Oh.. just wondering if you’re like me.. waiting impatiently for when the school year wraps up and we go off on our respective holidays...”
“I still haven’t quite figured out what I’m going to do....”
“One of those last minute creatures, huh?” Nancy sat down in front of one of the computers, flicking the mouse to log off the computer. “Do you suppose any actual studying goes on with these computers?”
“I seriously doubt it. But apparently our opinion is irrelevant - computers and the internet are extremely important tools. Our students have to learn if they want to get ahead in life, and keep up, blah, blah, blah.”
“It’s the will of government to turn students’ minds into mush, into adults who don’t understand the concept of critical thinking, or of focusing on one thing longer than two seconds....” Nancy mocked. “Then the politicians can get away with whatever they want...”
As Alice was about to shut down another computer, she became aware the web browser was still open on a Facebook page. She sighed as she found proof somebody was spending some class time merely playing on the Internet.
Her eyes happened to glance at the words, and she recognized her own name inside the text.
Hey, guess what? Mrs Prouse isn’t a dyke after all! LOL I heard from a reliable source that she’s out fucking Brittany’s dad - could you imagine sticking your dick in that! All that skank would probably burn it right off! lolololol
Another comment read: It would almost be like screwing a man with that butchy haircut. Funny!
Every word was a violation, like a stab from a switchblade. She could not believe what she was reading, and that these words were being typed onto a school computer. Alice then noticed these words were written in a group page entitled “Teachers of the local high school.” Supposedly this was an online sanctuary where students could freely speak about the good, the bad and the ugly of the faculty. And this was definitely the ugly.
Alice felt her heart ache, as if it would burst and kill her right there in the chair she was sitting on.
“What’s wrong, Alice?” Nancy asked.
Alice gritted her teeth. She wanted to lash out at whoever wrote these words. “I think we have a bigger problem than whether the students go online to cheat on their essays...”
*
“I didn’t write anything on Facebook!” Brittany protested to both the principal and Alice, in the principal’s office.
“But you must have been talking with your friends, were you? Did you say something that influenced your friends to put that garbage on there?” asked the principal.
Brittany grimaced, as if attempting to keep the truth from flowing from her mouth. “That’s nobody’s business.”
Alice was the reason for this conference, but she felt as if she were on the sidelines while the other two were sparring.
“And that stuff’s private,” Brittany continued to protest. “Those are private Facebook accounts. It’s not school stuff.”
“I’ve read it,” the principal said. “Ms Prouse read it. Ms Bell read it. I don’t consider something anyone can have access to to be private....”
Brittany’s face became red. She tilted her head down and started intently at the carpet. “I’m sorry...” she sighed. “I told a couple of my friends - I was upset. I didn’t tell them to post it on Facebook.... honestly, I didn’t....”
Alice knew her words were true. Brittany didn’t need to persuade anyone. The internet was the instrument teenagers used to talk to each other, gossip and spread rumours. Twenty years ago, it was the telephone, and nobody beyond the small circle of friends would have ever found out what exactly had been said. But Facebook provided a written transcript.
The principal seemed thoughtful following Brittany’s comments. Perhaps she hadn’t been aware that the vile comments actually were based on truth - perhaps the principal had assumed this was just an idle fiction created for no other purpose than to smear. But it didn’t matter. “Well, your friends have put our staff in an uncomfortable position,” the principal said. “That is simply not acceptable. Bullying doesn’t just apply to the other students, it applies to us as well. Those comments on Facebook are simply unacceptable.”
Brittany’s face broke down into a pile of disbelief and fear. She was afraid of what was going to happen to her, and the muscles in her neck became tense as she tried in vain to find the proper words to articulate why she objected to this line of interrogation.
“Now,” said the principal. “.... there’s little I can do right now... there’s only a few days of school left. But ... I know some of the people were planning on being guests for the prom....”
And one of those “guests,” a student in Grade 11, happened to be Brittany’s date. Brittany feared her prediction would be correct.
“... and they’re simply not going,” the principal concluded. “It’s not like this is their graduation year - it’s not their special day.”
Brittany felt the anger tighten within her chest. She had thoughts of lashing out, of yelling at her tormenters. She looked at the principal, and then at Mrs Prouse, who did not appear as if she would protest the decision.
“I... I bought a new dress and everything,” Brittany stammered, her voice wavering. “I had a date planned. I can’t go to the prom alone.”
The principal held on to her stern expression. “I’m sorry, Brittany. But that is the way life is - there are consequences to one’s actions. And this is the consequence....”
“This isn’t right!” Brittany said, her voice rising in pitch. “Mrs Prouse was the one looking at someone else’s private information, she was the one who looked at it and decided to pass the information over to you. Like a good little comrade would do.”
Now how did Brittany think to use the word “comrade?”, Alice thought.
“She is *obligated* to do that, miss,” the principal responded. “It’s staff policy. This isn’t a personal vendetta against you.”
“Of course. Of course...” Brittany said.
A few moments of uncomfortable silence.
“May... may I leave, madam,” Brittany asked.
“Yes. Yes, you may...”
Once Brittany left, the principal let go of her authoritative demeanour, and loudly exhaled. “Sh*t, Alice. I didn’t want to have to do that.”
“No, Connie,” Alice mumbled. “You did the proper thing.”
“Yea... but I did kind of ruin her prom. I can’t argue with that.”
“It’s just one of those things. You can’t just sit by and pretend it didn’t happen....”
“You must be enjoying this, Alice...”
“No, I don’t.” Why would Connie suggest this, she thought? “But - believe me, seeing that on the computer, available for many people to see, certainly can make a person feel helpless.”
“A child of a single parent can feel mighty helpless as well. They didn’t choose a divorce, and they certainly don’t choose the replacement.”
“Gee, thanks!” Alice said.
“I don’t mean to pry into your personal life - but you probably shouldn’t be surprised at what just transpired here.”
Alice started to feel violated all over again. “Perhaps I should be banned from the prom as well, oh great one.”
“Oh shut up!” Connie laughed. “I’m not blaming you.... are you coming to the get-together tonight?”
Alice almost said no. She felt uncomfortable about showing her face to the rest of the staff, wondering if perhaps they would find out her little secret. “Most likely, Connie. I can never miss those year-end parties.”
“That’s good. Keep your mind off this situation; the school year’s almost over. I’m sure even those kids will forget all about it once September rolls around again...”
Alice later left the office, and headed down to her next class. At this point it was rather perfunctory - there was nothing else left to teach, and the students weren’t paying much attention anyway. Which was good becuase Alice was no longer in the mood to educate anyone.
Alice then saw Brittany rummaging through her locker, cleaning out her life from the past year and keeping only the memories she wanted. Alice wanted to talk to her, to let her understand that Mrs Prouse wasn’t the bad guy.
“Brittany... how are you feeling?”
Brittany turned to face her, and Alice noticed for the first time her eyes, deep pools of blue waiting for someone to fall into and drown. “What do you want?” Brittany snapped. “I told you I’m sorry.”
“No... I understand. I don’t blame you for what you’re feeling. I .. I just wish I could explain to you why I dated your father...”
“Please don’t.”
“I don’t know why I have to explain it to you - but I wish you could understand....”
“You needed someone. And he needed someone. I’m not stupid; that’s how these things work.”
“Then why ... why did you tell your friends? Surely that’s why they posted what they did on Facebook - because you were upset at me.”
“Upset, whatever,” she scoffed. “That’s how we *talk*. This is normal conversation, it’s no big deal. The big deal was the fact you read it.”
“How would you like if I said nasty things about you on Facebook?”
“Probably nothing worse than what you would say to each other in the teacher’s lounge,” Brittany grinned, with an apparent contempt toward Mrs Prouse’s authority. Alice was being treated instead much like all of the other students Brittany and her friends looked down upon because they belonged to the wrong clique.
Alice felt her cheeks blush, and she gritted her teeth. “I don’t know how you think we talk that way about you....”
“I’m sure you do.” she said, with a cold, uncaring tone. She turned her head toward the inside of her locker, silently telling Alice she wanted to go back to sorting out her mess.
“So... what are you going to do once you graduate? Burn your diploma?”
“No,” she said, her head inside her locker as she continued cleaning it out. “I’m not like Susan... I’m not going to throw my life away like that. She’s messed up, I’m not....”
“I see....” Alice no longer wanted this conversation. Brittany was now merely a difficult student, one of an assortment she always encountered every year. “Good bye...” Alice said as she walked away, “I’m sure I’ll see you at the prom....”
*
Later on that evening, Alice was about to go to the staff get-together. But first, she took her usual drive across the Hillsborough Bridge to meet Thomas. She fully expected this would be her final visit.
When Alice parked her vehicle and stepped nearer to the gravel driveway, she felt a chilling touch within her body. The house itself felt foreboding and unapproachable, with its very form suggesting an anger, a desire to withdraw into itself and repel anything that went near it.
She felt the pain of the oxygen circulating through her lungs as she rang the doorbell. She almost wished for Thomas to ignore her, but he did not.
He stood there, for what was only a portion of one second, and yet it was enough time to reveal a hesitation.
“Hello Alice,” he said, giving her space to walk inside.
“I can’t stay long - I’m going to meet up with the other staff later on. A little celebration of the end of the year.”
“Ah. So you teachers are just like ordinary folk. You wait for the end of the school year and have your kickoff party for the summer. I thought it was only the students that did that.”
Thomas walked away from her to turn the TV volume down. The TV was on a rerun of a very recently-cancelled sitcom.
“Well, we all need that every once in a while, even the uptight teachers,” Alice laughed, hoping to ease the tension that lingered in the room.
“Yes, you’re right,” Thomas said. He appeared to be waiting for the moment to ask Alice what exactly happened with his daughter.
“Look, we should talk....” Alice started.
“Brittany was just here,” Thomas interrupted. “She told me what happened in school today.”
“I figured as much...”
“That’s what you wanted to talk about, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice flat.
“Yes.”
Thomas shook his head and gave out a sardonic grin. “Why was Brittany interrogated by the tag-team matchup of you and the principal? She wasn’t the one who wrote those things on Facebook.”
“It’s not as if she was punished. But... it was about her. Those things were about us, you know. It was awful to read that; it just made my skin crawl.”
“Her friends were banned from the prom - she’s quite pissed off right now, and I can’t say I blame her...”
“I’m sorry... but what were we supposed to do?”
“I can sense you’re disappointed in your principal for not finishing the job,” said Thomas, with sarcasm. “After all, Brittany could have lost her year, missed her graduation. She’d have to start Grade 12 all over again....”
“What?” Alice asked, her voice cracking from the surprise.
“You did almost fail her once for not living up to your standards. I’m sure you would have liked to have seen the principal do the job you couldn’t finish.”
“We’re not talking about my standards here,” Alice said, her voice becoming more aggressive. “What we’re talking about are her friends, and other students, harassing and intimidating members of our staff.”
“So a bunch of kids say some stupid things. We all talked about our dumb teachers when we were young. I’m sure you did.”
“Do you understand real life, Thomas? In real life, this sort of activity is not acceptable.”
“What do you know about real life? You’re just stuck in your books all the time. I suppose all those moldy textbooks in your bookshelf hold the answers to all of your problems....”
“Not all of them. I learned that many years ago.”
Thomas sat on the couch and picked up the remote, to mindlessly tune into a station airing one of the sitcom reruns that endlessly recycled itself over and over again. The relationship seemed to come full circle - he was in front of the television when she first arrived at his home. She wondered if he had memorized all the jokes of this particular episode he was watching right now.
“Where’s Brittany?”
“Out.”
Alice stepped behind the couch as Thomas’s eyes pointed in the direction of the TV screen. He didn’t seem to be fully engaged in the details of the story. He was merely distracted by the tones of the voices and the persistence of the canned laugh track.
“Just roaming the streets,” Alice said.
“Perhaps,” he scoffed. “I don’t keep tabs on her 24/7.”
“She’s only - how old, 17? Shouldn’t you be keeping tabs on her?” No wonder Brittany developed such an attitude.
“I’m sure both you and I got up to no good when we were that age. I don’t think I turned out too badly....”
“I would at least *ask* where my daughter would be before she stepped outside!” said Alice.
“The maternal instinct? That doesn’t sound like you. I thought you were a *progressive* dame.” Thomas teased.
“It’s not about maternal instincts. I just - wouldn’t be so casual about things like that...”
Thomas shifted his body to look at Alice, who stood there as if she were attempting to seize command of the house away from him.
“What do you know about responsibility, Alice? What have you had to be responsible for...”
Alice frowned.
“The biggest thing you had to concern yourself with is whether a student who asks to leave the room to go to the washroom will actually return to class instead of taking advantage of the situation,” Thomas said.
Thomas seemed to resent Alice’s occupation once again. “I’d like to see you stand in front of a classroom of kids. I’m sure you can keep them in line,” Alice said.
Thomas looked back toward the television. “I didn’t ask for this to happen to me, Alice. I didn’t ask to have two children and devote all of my energy to raising them, to devoting most of my waking life to work, and work, and work just to keep this flimsy life from falling apart...”
“I bet they’d love to hear that.”
“I had a different vision of my life.”
“We all do... that’s what life is. It’s about always wanting more than what you will ever have... and accepting what you’ve got.”
“You never had to do the work of trying to mold another human being. You talk all that big talk about being one of the most important people in a child’s life. All you have to do is regurgitate some government-recommended materials and you’ve done your duty.”
“And you....you have to be there... every step of the way,” Alice said.
“Yes.” He said, his voice filled with the regret of the last 18 years.
“You had a lot of practice, anyway.”
“Sure. I had a lot of chances.”
The two became silent. They no longer had anything to say that was worthwhile. The two were from different places, with different backgrounds, and neither one of them was willing to overlook that fact.
The laugh track had been activated at the proper intervals during the conversation. It exaggerated the raw emotion and turned it into a grotesque sight worth ridiculing. Alice no longer wanted to be a part of it.
She let him continue watching the situation comedy. She was writing herself out of the script. She put on her shoes and walked out the door. Her demeanour was calm. It wasn’t like he would have been the one for her anyway. He was just another man. She’d find herself another man in a few months.
*
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Member: David Macdonald
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Alice, a story in nine parts, posted on Sept 24, 2008 - http://www.epinions.com/content_5241348228
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