Silent Retreats Read Free

. my son wasn't feeling well this morning and I thought I'd just look in on him," Martin said. "I don't want to bother him in class . . . I just wanted to lay eyes on him."
    "Of course," she said. "They have an intercom in the office."
    "No need for any of that," he said.
    She stood there insistently as he went back to peering in the window. He sensed that she was impatient with him. "Listen," he said, "you seem like a pleasant enough lady. Why don't I just break the rules and take a look at my boy for about another thirty seconds, and then I'll head out the same door I just walked in, no problem."
    "This, sir, is a city school. We have to control who comes and goes. Besides they have a visitor's packet for you in the office, and they can call your son from there, on the intercom. Or you could wait," she said. "In a few minutes, they'll be coming to the gymnasium for lunch." She was still smiling, perhaps a little more forcibly. Martin wanted to punch her in her soft little jaw. "The PTA worked very hard on the packet. It's got their newsletter and the financial report."
    "Please," he said. "I don't want the PTA newsletter. I want a moment's peace, looking at my little boy. I don't want to mess over school policy, but this is a little thing, perhaps even microscopic. I'll be out of here in a minute." Martin leaned down to whisper something in the lady's ear. "I'm just not in the mood for the visitor's packet," he said in a loud whisper. He winked. "In fact, I'm afraid it will piss me off." He stood back and looked at her, his arms up. "I might go berserk right there in the principal's office."
    The woman turned and hurried down the hall to tattle. She wore black-heeled shoes that clacked as she went. At one point as she hurried, she looked back over her shoulder.
    A wave of restlessness seemed to sweep through the school. The big round clocks were signaling to everyone that the morning segment of confinement was close to over. Then Martin noticed another lady coming down the hall, approaching somehow warily but with a big smile.
    "Good morning," she said. "Can I help you? I'm Dr. Cousins—Alberta Cousins—I'm the principal here. Is your boy in this room?"
    "Yes," Martin said, looking through the window. "I was just looking at him."
    "Which child is it?" She came close to look through the same small window as he pointed.
    "The white-haired boy with the pencil in his mouth. Chews the erasers."
    "I hear you just encountered our librarian, Mrs. Redding."
    "Yes." Martin continued to look through the window.
    "She probably seems like an old biddy to you, but she's a real pro in the classroom, I can tell you."
    "That's good," Martin said. "Very loyal of you to mention it."
    "Want me to get your boy out here?—it's no problem at all." Before he could answer, she ducked past him and opened the door. She signaled to Mrs. Rudolph, a very tall, made-up woman, straight-backed, perhaps forty-five. "Jeff's father has come to see him—could we have him a moment?"
    Then Jeff was out in the hall, a little bewildered. He grinned up at his dad, cheeky face, eyes like his mom. "Hey," Martin said to him.
    "Hey," the boy said back.
    "If you don't mind," the principal said to Martin, "would you take your walk out the north door? In four minutes the halls will be filled with masses of children, marginally controlled and very hungry." She smiled warmly. "And," she said, "I don't know whether our librarian mentioned it, but when you're finished we have a visitor's register for you to sign and a packet of materials for you, in the office."
    "She mentioned it."
    The lady faded off, back down the hall.
    "How you doin'?" Martin said to Jeff when they were alone. Jeff was in the first grade.
    "Fine," he said. As they walked toward the north door, they were holding hands, both looking at the floor. Martin was fighting another swell of emotion. "We goin' home now?" Jeff asked.
    "What're you studying in there?" Martin said in a low