Andrew’s car shut
down quietly as he and his lawyer crossed the school parking
lot. At the entrance, he placed his hand against the lockplate. “Should
we be running?” he asked.
“No.” The lawyer set
the pace, her heels clicking on the tile floor. Andrew followed,
a step behind, as she led him to the main office and touched
the bell. A section of the wall slid away, revealing a middle-aged
man behind a high desk and an inch of plexiglass. “Good afternoon,” the
lawyer said, keeping her voice neutral.
“Good afternoon,” said
the receptionist.
“My client, Andrew
Fasano, received a message that the teachers can’t reach his
son at this time.”
“Ah.” The receptionist
indicated a reader panel below the bell. “If Mr. Fasano would
please verify his identity?”
Andrew looked at the
lawyer, who nodded. He placed his hand against the panel, and
the man behind the window read his screen. “Very well. Mr. Fasano,
please come in.”
A door slid open and
Andrew and his lawyer stepped through. On the other side was
a spare conference room, completely neutral, the walls bare of
even the most non-controversial artwork. “Please wait here, Mr.
Fasano.” It was the receptionist’s voice. “Someone will be with
you shortly.”
His lawyer did take
a seat, placing her tablet on the table, but Andrew just draped
his coat over one of the chairs and began to pace. His earpiece
pinged softly and he put it in his pocket, ignored. Work could
wait.
And it did. For about
ten minutes, until three people came into the room and sat on
one side of the table. Andrew recognized Miss Rain and Dr. Walling;
Rain Nicholson was Marty’s teacher, and Andrew had met Dr. Philip
Walling during the extensive interview process he’d gone through
to get Marty placed at the school.
“Good afternoon, Mr.
Fasano,” said Dr. Walling. “You know Miss Nicholson, and this
is Jin Chuan, our legal counsel.”
“Good afternoon.” Andrew
placed his hands on his coat. “This is Ana Maria Matejas, who
will represent me.” His lawyer inclined her head slightly. Then
Andrew looked at the education director—because, as the literature
had said, “principal” was an outmoded term. “What took you so
long to get in here?” A touch of stress in his voice.
“Mr. Chuan advised
us to give him time to review the case before meeting with you.”
Andrew shook his head. “How
much time did you spend waiting for Mr. Chuan to arrive?” his
lawyer asked.
“Mr. Chuan maintains
an office in the building,” the director said. “In case of a
situation like this.”
“Situation?” Andrew
shook his head again, this time as if to clear it. “The situation,
Dr. Walling, is that my son is no longer under your supervision.
The situation should be that you and your staff should be supervising
him!” He took a couple of deep breaths; his voice had gotten
louder toward the end.
Ms. Matejas stepped
in smoothly. “Mr. Fasano is upset, and understandably so,” she
said. “Section 3A of the educational contract guarantees supervision
at all times, except where noted in subsection two.”
“Yes. Well…” Miss
Rain was using her teacher voice, though Andrew privately doubted
she was legally allowed to talk like a normal person while on
school grounds. “There are, of course, certain times when I am
not legally allowed to be in the same room as Marty—”
“The student,” Chuan
said sharply.
Miss Rain shot him
a dark look, which made Andrew respect her a little more. “Marty,” and
she stressed his name, black eyes narrowing, “expressed a need
to use the restroom on the way back from Music class.”
“And he informed you?” Matejas
said.
“No,” Miss Rain said. “He
asked Miss Katrina.” She was the co-teacher in Marty’s classroom.
“So. the rest of the
kids went back to class,” Andrew said, smiling slightly, “and
when Marty didn’t come out and Miss Katrina couldn’t go in—”
“We contacted you
immediately,” said Dr. Walling. He sounded bored, put-upon, as
if this whole business was beneath him. The school’s lawyer cleared
his throat, but Walling ignored him. “As per the rules.”
“Section 7C, subsection
four,” Chuan said.
“My client is well
aware of the school’s guidelines,” Matejas said, her left hand
flicking through pages on her tablet. “As am I.”
“So. He’s still in
the bathroom?” Andrew asked.
“Mrs. Gunnarsdottir
has remained outside the restroom since the student declined
to exit.” Chuan checked something on his tablet. “She has followed
all school guidelines exactly as required.”
“Of course, we can’t
hold Mrs. Gunnarsdottir accountable,” said Matejas. Chuan immediately
typed on his tablet, and Andrew realized that his lawyer had
eliminated the possibility of suing at least one person. Miss
Rain also relaxed slightly. Andrew didn’t dislike either of Marty’s
teachers—he’d had them vetted just as thoroughly as the school
had vetted him, and Marty, for his part, loved them.
Andrew was, however,
quite certain that someone was going to pay. He didn’t retain
Ana Maria Matejas solely because she was pretty—in fact, had
that been the case, she herself could have sued him for assault
via objectification. She’d done it before. It was how they’d
met in the first place.
He looked over her
shoulder at her tablet; her notes were in Catalan, which he didn’t
speak, but it was similar enough to Spanish that he at least
had an idea of what she’d be asking for. He controlled his face
and stepped away. “Dr. Walling, why didn’t anyone else go check
on Marty?”
“Section 30C, personal
privacy, bodily functions,” Chuan said quickly, before the director
could reply. “‘No staff member of the school shall draw attention
to a student’s bodily functions when performed in the privacy
of a restroom.” And also,” he added, “Section 31B, molestation
protection: ‘No male-identified staff member shall be left alone
with a student under any circumstances.’”
Andrew wanted to laugh.
Dr. Walling couldn’t have become educational director of even
a government-run school if he had the slightest hint of sexual
offense in his history. He was absolutely sure that the director
would never directly harm a child. However…
“I think, in this
case, you should have made an exception.”
Matejas shot him a
look. Chuan typed on his tablet.
“Mr. Fasano,” Chuan
said, “the school is prepared to settle with you on this matter:
any lost pay, plus time, travel, and legal expenses.”
Andrew nodded to his
lawyer. “We accept your settlement,” Matejas said. “Now, please
conduct my client to the restroom.”
Andrew knocked on
the one closed stall door. “Marty? You in there?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
He sighed. “Marty,
why are you still in there?”
“There’s no toilet
paper, Dad.”
Andrew went into the
next stall, liberated a roll, bent down, and passed it under
the barrier. When he felt Marty take it, he stood up and went
over to the sinks to wait. A minute later, there was a flush,
followed by the appearance of his son, adjusting his jeans. “Wash
your hands, Marty.”
Marty nodded and did
so, then allowed his father to pick him up and hug him. “Sorry,
Dad.”
Andrew shrugged. “It
happens. But next time, check the roll before you sit down.”
“Okay.”
They left the bathroom.
Marty held up his fist and Andrew bumped it, as did his lawyer.
A few feet down the hall, Dr. Walling and Mr. Chuan watched Marty
walk away with Miss Katrina, back toward the classroom. Marty
was shuffling a bit, which was understandable; he’d been in the
bathroom for more than half an hour, and his legs probably ached,
or were at the very least half-asleep.
Matejas checked her
tablet. “It’s 1:45,” she said under her breath, so the others
wouldn’t hear. “I think I can get you paid for the rest of the
day.”
Andrew smiled. If
he got paid, she got paid. And if he got the rest of the day
off…
The lawyer smiled
too, looking up at him from under dark eyelashes.
“I’ll wait in the
car.”
