LITMIR.BIZ

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although it became apparent by then that Ashley held a grudge and owned a cell phone. Ashley’s mother arrived just before school ended. She waited in the hall outside the classroom, marching up to Claire as soon as the room had emptied of students.

      “Miss Flynn. I’m Ashley’s mother. Deirdre Landau.”

      Claire could see the resemblance in both features and clothes. In fact, the mother was dressed almost exactly like the daughter, in pricey jeans and T-shirt, with expensive hair in a make-believe color. Claire was in no position to comment on make-believe hair colors, since she was a little blonder than nature had ever intended, so she overlooked that detail.

      “You embarrassed Ashley today.”

      “I apologize for that,” Claire said honestly. And she was sorry. She wished the incident had never happened, but she wasn’t going to let Ashley humiliate a defenseless fifth grader, either.

      There was a silence.

      “That’s it?” Deirdre finally asked.

      “What more would you like?” Claire asked reasonably.

      The woman’s mouth worked as she fought for words. She’d received an apology. Readily and sincerely. And that was the problem. She’d wanted Claire to grovel. Or protest. Or, at the very least, put up a struggle. She tried again.

      “A promise not to do it again.”

      “Fine. As long as Ashley understands that I will not tolerate an intentional attempt to hurt another student’s feelings.”

      Deirdre looked shocked. “Ashley would do no such thing.”

      “Then perhaps I misread the situation,” Claire said in an agreeable tone. “So the next time it happens, I’ll just give you a call and you can come to the school and we’ll discuss it while it’s fresh in everyone’s mind.”

      “I would welcome that.”

      “Great, because I believe that communication among parents, students and teachers is imperative in an educational situation.”

      Deirdre blinked. “And I want you to apologize to Ashley in front of the class. After all, she was embarrassed in front of the class.”

      “Sure.” Again, Claire did not hesitate in her response, and it seemed to confuse Deirdre. She frowned suspiciously.

      “Tomorrow.”

      “First thing.”

      “All right.” It was obvious the woman didn’t trust Claire’s easy acquiescence. “Ashley’s waiting. I need to be going.”

      Claire refrained from saying “See you soon,” even though she had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before she and Ashley’s mom were face-to-face again.

      Claire called Regan that night. “What do you do when you’re teaching the undead?” she asked as soon as her sister answered the phone.

      “Excuse me?”

      “Zombies. My older kids behave like zombies, except for when they’re herding sheep or sniping at me.”

      “Echetto’s sheep got out again?”

      “This is common?”

      “Couple times a year.”

      “Sheep I can live with, but these older kids are mean, Reg. I thought I’d have a group of sweet rural kids who’d been left to their own devices for too long. And instead I have three snotty ringleaders trying to get the best of me, and a bunch of younger kids learning to follow their lead. Can you tell me anything about Toni Green, Ashley Landau and Dylan Masterson that might help me?”

      “Not a lot,” Regan confessed. “The only one I know is Dylan, and he wasn’t bad as a fourth grader. He just needed a strong hand.”

      “Well, he didn’t get it.”

      “As to the zombie issue, you’re going to have to live with it.”

      “Meaning?”

      “It’s a control thing, and you can’t force them to be enthusiastic learners. But you can do what Will does when he trains a horse. If they show an appropriate response, reward them. If they act like zombies, ignore it and do your job.”

      “Kind of like the extinction theory?”

      “Pretty much.” Regan’s voice softened. “You do know you may have a power struggle for a while?”

      “I’m getting that idea.”

      “Stay consistent. Stay strong.”

      “I’ll be Hercules.”

      “You may have to be,” Regan said with a laugh. “Call any time you need moral support, all right?”

      “Are you sure you mean that?” Claire asked ironically. There was a time when she’d automatically called Regan before even thinking about a problem.

      “I mean it. Anytime.” A muffled voice sounded in the background. Regan laughed, then said, “Kylie wants you to promise to come watch her ride at the regional horse show and to wear something to impress her friends.”

      “Tell her I’ll get right on it.”

      Claire felt better for having called. She had no intention of crying on Regan’s shoulder every time something went wrong, but it was good to know she had backup if she needed it.

      “BEFORE WE START CLASS, there’s something I need to attend to,” Claire said as soon as the students were seated following the Pledge of Allegiance. Ashley was already smirking.

      “Yesterday I embarrassed Ashley, and I want to apologize for that.”

      The girl nodded, like a queen granting pardon to an offending subject.

      Claire hitched a hip onto the edge of her desk and swung her foot. “In order to avoid this happening in the future, I think I should explain some things to you as a class. I don’t want anyone to be embarrassed, but if I see you trying to hurt someone else, I will call you on it. It may embarrass you. It’s called a consequence. I don’t know how many of you have been following the latest developments in self-esteem studies…” The class stared at her blankly. “But the pendulum is swinging from the stroking of egos back to consequences for actions.”

      Rudy tentatively raised his hand.

      “Yes?”

      “Would you please translate that?”

      “If you do the crime, you’ll do the time.”

      A look of dawning awareness crossed ten faces. Ashley’s mouth flattened so much that Claire wondered if it would stay that way forever.

      “I’m not exactly stupid,” Claire continued. “I can tell when someone is trying to hurt someone else, and I will not put up with it. Any questions?” Several kids shook their heads. “Great. Please get out your math homework.”

      The fifth and sixth graders had their homework ready. One of the seventh graders had half of the assignment done. The remaining four older students had nothing.

      “Where’s your homework?” Claire asked.

      “I didn’t do it,” Dylan answered nonchalantly.

      “Any particular reason?”

      He shrugged. “Mr. Nelson never made us. Homework was just practice. It was the tests that counted.”

      “If we could pass the tests, he said we really didn’t have to do the homework,” Lexi chimed in.

      “And did you pass the tests?”

      “Yes,” the older kids said in unison.

      Which made Claire wonder if Mr. Nelson had even bothered to grade the tests. Because after looking at the math placement results from the day before, she was thinking

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