She had the same gray eyes and pale hair. “Who are you?” she asked, serious as a judge. “I’m your mom,” Eleanor said, crouching down.
“Remember?” Maggie thought for a moment, then nodded and wrapped her arms around Eleanor’s neck. She smelled like milk and sunshine and the old barn out back.
That evening the three of them sat in the kitchen. Eleanor’s mother poured tea and set out gooseberry jam. “Any letter from Mike?” Eleanor asked quietly.
A short one had come two weeks earlier. He said he was alive, doing all right, and missed them. He promised he’d be home by Christmas.
Eleanor nodded, staring into her mug. He had made that Christmas promise three years running. The next morning she went to school.
The principal, an older man with gray hair and a service pin on his jacket, met her in the hallway. “Welcome, Eleanor. The biology room is yours.”
“You’ll have grades five through eight. And if you’re willing, it would help if you took on some after-school tutoring.”
“Who needs help?” she asked.
“No one yet, but we’ve got three transfers coming in. Important families.” He lowered his voice.
“One father works in state government, one runs the sheriff’s office, and one heads the ag college. Their boys are being sent here. They’ve repeated a year. Ninth-grade age, but they’ll be placed here for now.”
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “At our little school?”
“The county high school is a drive, and this is quieter. Their parents want them to get back on track,” the principal said, clearing his throat. “If they ask for extra help, don’t turn them down. Your salary’s not much. The extra money won’t hurt.”
She nodded. Nobody in town liked refusing people with that kind of pull. The first week flew by.
The students were polite, if a little shy. At recess everybody whispered that the city boys were coming. Eleanor acted like she didn’t hear a thing.
On Monday, August 24, the three of them walked in.
They were tall, tanned, and wearing real Adidas jackets, not knockoffs from a discount store. Their names were Victor, Sean, and Danny.
Victor, the politician’s son, came in first with a lazy grin. Sean, the sheriff’s son, carried his backpack over one shoulder. Danny, the college director’s son, chewed gum and spat on the floor.
The principal introduced them at the staff meeting in one sentence. “New students. Let’s make them feel welcome.” The teachers said nothing.
Only the vice principal, a woman in her fifties, muttered under her breath, “As long as they keep quiet.”
After school Victor came into the teachers’ lounge alone.
“Ms. Smith, can I talk to you?”
She was at the table grading papers. “Of course.”
He shut the door behind him and leaned against the frame. “Me and the guys need to finish out the year. Things didn’t work out in the city. You can probably guess that much.
“The classes here are easier, but biology’s still rough for us. We figured maybe we could get some extra help. You do tutoring?”
Eleanor set down her pen. “How many?”
“Three. Me, Sean, and Danny.
“We’d come after school three times a week. We’ll pay whatever the school says.”
“All right,” she said. “Tomorrow after fourth period. Biology room.”
He smiled wider. “Thanks. You won’t regret it.”
When the door closed, Eleanor felt a small chill between her shoulders. Then she brushed it off. Kids are kids. Just boys from the city.
The next day after fourth period she opened the classroom, set a microscope on the desk, and laid out charts on photosynthesis. At exactly 3:05, the three of them came in.
They had no backpacks. Just cigarettes in their pockets and cheap cologne hanging in the air. “Afternoon, Ms. Smith,” Victor said, dropping into the front row and throwing his feet onto the next chair.
“Hello,” she said. “Feet down. Let’s start with photosynthesis. Open your notebooks.”
Sean gave a short laugh. “Notebooks?
