Her eyes rolled back, making her appear even more supernatural. “Get that out of your head. It’ll be wonderful. It’ll give the kids something to get excited about.”
“They’re not the ones who need excitement aroundhere.” Mrs. Chessa gave me a quizzical look. “Don’t mind me. The thought of moving has been bouncing around my head.”
She pulled off her glasses and rested them on the top of her head. I expected words of wisdom. In the past, she always had this otherworldly insight. Right about now, I could use a sign. Maybe I was putting too much emphasis on the convention. If it didn’t go well, would I just board up the shop and run away? I wanted to say no, but it’d be another push toward greener pastures.
“Follow me.” She snatched my hand, tugging me along behind her. She barged through the doors and into the hallway. When she repeated the gesture, taking us outside, I was about to protest. Her grip didn’t give me an option. Across the playground we went, her dragging me as if she were about to wash my mouth out with soap.
“Where are we going?”
The high school. Mrs. Chessa wasn’t the librarian for just the elementary school. She served the entire district, and she threw open the side doors to the school as if she owned the place. It took a moment for me to get my bearings. We were…
“Wow.”
Down the hall, we’d find the art room. It had the most murals painted on the wall, but it looked as if the upperclassmen were displaying pieces of their portfolio. I stepped around Mrs. Chessa to look at the brown packing paper hanging from the ceiling.
“I think of you every time I see it.”
Slightly larger than life, the charcoal figures looked as if they were screaming at the top of their lungs. The chest cavity had exploded, bits of skin and bone flying outward. Inside was the same person, curled up in a ball. Amid the shadows, they wore a rainbow t-shirt, hand stretched out as if begging for help.
I chewed my top lip as I took it in. Anybody who had ever felt like an other in their life would empathize with the subject. Instinctively, I felt the urge to reach out, to take their hand, and pull them from the shadows. It’s all any of us could ask for.
“I’m not saying stay,” Mrs. Chessa whispered. “But if you can find a way to be happy in Firefly, there are still those who need role models.”
It might have been decades ago, but I remember sitting in that art class trying to sort through my feelings. Even with a supportive family, I felt isolated and withdrew from the outside world. I’d hate to think what life would have been like if I hadn’t found adventures in my comics.
The agony on their face. At one point in life, I had felt the need to scream. Life had moved on. Most in Firefly accepted me, others tolerated me, and only a small few shunned me. Maybe my story wasn’t universal?
If the convention happened, it’d be my anchor. “I only need one reason to stay.” Then again, maybe I had become obsessed and narrowed my focus too far? Maybe there were more reasons if I’d opened my eyes a little wider.
“Do you have time to talk with the art class?”
Mrs. Chessa stood next to me, admiring the self-portraithanging on the wall. “Skylar’s the president of the GSA.” She gave me a slight elbow to the gut. “I couldn’t think of a better role model.”
A role model. I had never given it much thought. If I could help Skylar make the scream softer, or if I could reach in and wrap my arms around that struggling kid… I owed it to a younger version of myself.
“I think I can do that.”
Mrs. Chessa grabbed me by the arm, leading me to the art room. “Did I mention they need an advisor?”
The librarian had played me like a fiddle. By the time I left, I’m sure she’d have me signing paperwork agreeing to be the advisor to the Gay-Straight Alliance. I didn’t have the space or time for it, but my heart wouldn’t let me say no. Mrs. Chessa wouldn’t make leaving easy. What I didn’t know was whether her machinations were for the kids or for me.
Librarians, they’re a devious lot.
I stood outside the elementary school, watching the kids disperse. Some climbed onto buses while others started the hike through town to reach their homes. There was enough screaming and shouting that I thought I was in a war zone. After behaving all day in school, they unleashed that overabundance of energy on the world.
Amanda: So, you’re the GSA advisor now?
Jason: Co-Advisor. :) :) :)
Amanda: We need to talk about boundaries.
Jason: Love you.
Amanda: …
Amanda let the triple dot hang on the phone. At first, I thought she might write a monologue about how she didn’t have time. I realized she had done it as punishment. I wouldn’t know when the reply came in. She left me suffering in anticipation.
“Diabolical,” I mumbled.
