Eddy Bowen Age 32 School Groundsmen

The weird kid had tried to run off with the school bass again. You weren’t trying to be rude, but the kid was Weird with a capital W, and there were only so many times you could describe the same behaviour politely.

The music building was one of the few on campus with actual security cameras, so checking his route hadn’t been difficult. Instead of bolting out the back, he’d hauled the bass up that huge flight of stairs you still had nightmares about mopping. A student had once tried skating down them and left in an ambulance. You’d been the one cleaning up afterward, which had done very little for your opinion of either the stairs or the students.

Somehow, with the cord trailing behind him, the kid had reached the top and made for one of the nearby gates. You called him weird because calling him stupid wasn’t allowed, and because stupid people deserved better than the comparison.

Unfortunately for him, you’d just hosed down the concrete between the building and that gate. Five signs warned that it was slippery and directed everyone toward the detour. He shouldn’t have been leaving school an hour early in the first place, but expecting him to notice that problem seemed ambitious when he hadn’t noticed five signs. He hit the wet concrete at a sprint and went down hard enough to take any satisfaction out of being right.

The students chasing him managed to stop at the signs. Under other circumstances, you might have appreciated the demonstration that the bloody things worked.

With the pressure hose running and your earmuffs on, you hadn’t heard any of the shouting. You’d seen enough to shut the water off, pull the earmuffs down and call for an ambulance before notifying administration. Whatever the kid had been thinking, he was hurt, and you were the adult standing nearest to him.

By the time help arrived, you were damned pissed that someone had gotten hurt and increasingly pissed that apparently your warnings needed to leap out and physically restrain people before they counted as adequate precautions.

That was how you ended up sitting across from Principal Hamilton while she explained the importance of maintaining a safe environment for students. Behind her polished desk, with her dark hair neatly pinned back and her hands folded in front of her, she looked perfectly prepared to spend the rest of your shift explaining your own job to you.

“There were five signs,” you said. “And a detour.”

“Yes, you mentioned that.” One sharply defined eyebrow rose, suggesting that mentioning it again would test her patience. “However, when a student is injured on school grounds, we have to consider whether adequate precautions were taken.”

Apparently five signs only became adequate at six. You kept that observation to yourself and adjusted the damp gloves in your lap. Across the desk, she continued talking, immaculate in a fitted navy jacket and a white blouse that probably hadn’t spent the afternoon being sprayed with dirty water. There was still concrete to clean, equipment to put away and a perfectly good incident report in front of her containing everything you’d been asked to explain twice.

“Then what part are we having trouble with?”

Her hands stopped moving against the paper. As her eyes lifted to yours, you held them, quite prepared to remind her that you were a grown adult doing your job. Unfortunately, she took the steady attention as encouragement to continue, and you settled back to endure another explanation.

Looking interested was an old workplace skill. Keep your eyes on the person speaking, nod when appropriate and think about something that might actually help you finish the day. By the time she reached the school’s responsibility toward its students, you were calculating whether you could get the hose packed away before the afternoon bell.

“Which means I need to be satisfied that you were given sufficient time to finish the work without being expected to accommodate unreasonable amounts of foot traffic.”

That sounded different enough to warrant some attention.

“The area was closed off,” you reminded her. “He ran through it anyway.”

“Yes.” Her gaze remained on yours, though the tightness around her mouth had eased. “You did say that.”

You waited, expecting her to explain why it was still your fault. Instead, her lips parted slightly before she glanced down at the report. A silver hoop caught the light as she tilted her head, read something near the top of the page and smoothed an already flat corner.

“All right. Tell me what happened after he fell.” With the report still beneath her hand, she settled back to listen, leaving you to wonder what was missing from the account you’d already given her.

It took an effort to keep the sigh out of your answer. You went through the hose, the ambulance and the call to administration again, looking back at her whenever she asked a question. At least she was listening now. In fact, she hardly seemed to look anywhere else, even when you referred her to something written on the page.

Halfway through your account, her folded hands came apart. One rose to settle a strand of hair near her temple, fingertips lingering there as you explained what the ambulance dispatcher had told you to do. The severe expression had softened enough that you could appreciate she was an attractive woman, which was an inconvenient thing to notice while you were trying to remain annoyed with her.

“So you stayed with him?” she asked, lowering her hand to the desk.

“Until the ambulance crew took over.” You shifted the gloves in your lap, hoping that reaching the end of the incident might also bring you to the end of the interview.

“That must have been difficult.” Her eyes searched your face as though you’d left something out, and you had to resist another sigh.

“Would’ve been worse for him.” A small smile touched her red lips at that, though you weren’t sure what you’d said to earn it. Checking the clock seemed more useful than working it out, but when you looked back, the smile was still there.

“I meant that it can be upsetting to deal with something like that yourself,” she said, leaning forward a little. “Especially when you’ve done everything you reasonably could to prevent it.”

Well, that would have been nice to hear fifteen minutes ago. You rubbed your thumb over a gritty seam in one glove, wondering whether this meant the interview was finally approaching its end. “I’ve dealt with accidents before.”

“I’m sure you have. You seem very capable.” The warmth in her voice brought your attention back to her face. Apparently she’d found something reassuring in yours, because her smile deepened before her gaze dropped to your hands. “Are those still wet?”

“I was working.” You stopped worrying at the seam and folded the gloves together again. They weren’t dripping on her carpet, if that was the next thing she intended to bring up.

“Of course.” A faint flush appeared in her cheeks as she pushed the report aside. “I’m sorry. I’ve kept you sitting here when you probably wanted to wash and have something to drink.”

What you wanted was to finish your shift, but an apology was progress. Looking her in the eyes again, you moved forward in your chair, ready to stand. “If that’s everything you need, I should get back.”

For a moment, she didn’t answer. Her gaze held yours while her fingers found the edge of the report and drew it back toward her. “There are a few details we should finish first,” she said, without looking down to check them. “But there’s no reason you shouldn’t be comfortable. Would you like some water?”

“I’m all right, thanks.” You remained at the edge of the seat, gloves gathered in one hand, waiting for whatever question apparently still needed answering.

“Are you sure?” The reply came quickly enough to keep you from asking what those details were. With another smile, she gestured toward the cabinet beside her desk. “Or coffee? I have some here.”

You glanced at the paperwork, trying to identify which part of watching a kid fall over required refreshments. When you looked up again, she was still waiting for your answer with an attentiveness you would have appreciated considerably more at the beginning of the meeting.