A Storybook Finish (8 page)

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General Washington to escape certain destruction, I don’t

want them to think it was mere luck. I want them to see

God’s hand in it.

Lindsay chewed thoughtfully on her sandwich, reflecting

on Jeff’s passion. In a strange way, they were very much alike.

She wanted to reach out to the students as much as he did.

What a pair they would make. She reached for the bottle of

water to ease the tickle in her throat. JeffWheeler and her—a

pair? Could it be? Or were they more like a sneaker paired

with a combat boot?

69 Jeff sensed a certain glee well up within him, though he tried

hard not to show it. The lunch with Lindsay had turned into

something far greater than anything he could have hoped or

dreamed. No wonder he often heard the adage of not judging

a book by its cover. No wonder God admonished His people

not to leap to assumptions on a whim. He had leapt to judgments

about her before finding out what lay buried beneath

the tough, exterior image. He felt a certain relief in discovering

another like-minded soul who wanted students to possess

a knowledge of God.

He watched Lindsay talk with Jewel during the trip. The

two women had begun to forge a bond. The display motivated

him to act. While on their way to the next destination, Jeff

met up with Troy.

“So do you have any questions about what we’ve seen so far.

Nope.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow at Troy’s short retort. “None? You

mean, if I were to spring a quiz on you about the day’s events,

you’d pass with flying colors?

“I don’t know about that.

Jeff could see an empty expression in the young man’s face,

as if something troubled him. Did the lectures in the Capitol

rattle the young man? Or were there other things at work?

From their previous discussions, Jeff knew Troy held little

reverence for God. The young man waved away religious

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persuasion, claiming he had no use for some divine being

after his drunken father abandoned his mother and younger

brothers in their time of need. Troy refused to think God was

in control after enduring such pain. Jeff rarely conversed with

Troy about religion but decided to use the young man’s fascination

for history as a vehicle for showing him the reality of

God. Despite his efforts, Troy appeared more distant than ever.

Lindsay now moved away from Jewel to interact with the

other students. Like a hawk, Jeff watched Robbie swoop

down on Jewel and engage her in conversation. When he did,

Troy grew rigid. His face turned crimson. He left Jeff’s side

and strode forward with determined steps toward Robbie.

“Excuse me, but I think you’ve spent enough time talking

to Jewel.”

Robbie laughed. “What are you, her big brother? You are,

aren’t you? Isn’t he, Jewel?”

“Robbie, Troy’s very special. He’s—”

“Sure. A brain on two legs. He’s nothing, Jewel. But if you

want to talk to him, go right ahead. I won’t tell you who you

can and can’t talk to. Slavery ended a long time ago.”

Troy balled one fist. The tension between the two was as

tight as a rubber band around a stack of papers. One more

episode and it was liable to pop altogether. Jeff saw Lindsay

flash him a look, reminding him of the warning she had

given that morning concerning Robbie. He sighed, wishing

he had listened.

Jeff decided he’d better shift the pent-up energy to the area

of knowledge. He began asking the students questions

regarding Abraham Lincoln’s presidency while they made

their way to Ford’s Theater, the place where Lincoln was

assassinated. Instead, he overheard Jewel and Troy exchanging

70 harsh words about Robbie.

“He’s a family friend, Troy,” Jewel insisted. “You know our

mothers work together.”

“Sure. Some friend.”

“I didn’t know you cared that much.”

“I just don’t want you hanging around with a loser like him.”

Jeff cleared his throat. So, Troy, tell me In what year the

Civil War came to an end.”

Jewel and Troy continued their conversation, ignoring Jeff’s

question. He inhaled a sharp sigh before repeating it. Troy

only stared hard between Robbie and Jewel before spouting

out, “1865.”

“And can anyone tell me what play Lincoln was going to

see the night he went to Ford’s Theater?”

Another student provided the answer while Troy and Jewel

remained engaged in their own personal difficulties. So far,

this plan was not easing the tension. Jeff cast a glance at

Lindsay. She seemed to understand Jewel. Perhaps she could

further enlighten him to the troubles existing between them

all. While the students were examining the booth inside Ford’s

Theater where Lincoln was assassinated, Jeff approached

Lindsay. She stood staring at the interior of the theater in

obvious fascination when he posed the question.

“Jewel, Troy, and Robbie are in an unpredictable love triangle,”

she explained. I warned Jewel this might happen.

Both Troy and Robbie are competing for her attention. Jewel

really likes Troy and wants him to care about her. She also has

an affinity for Robbie who is a childhood friend. Naturally,

Troy and Robbie clash.”

“I see. So that’s why you didn’t want Robbie coming along

71 Lindsay scanned a pamphlet about the theater. “I had an

inkling something might happen. I take it that interpersonal

skills are not your strong point.”

“No. If they were, I would probably win Most Popular

Teacher. I can teach, but I can’t deal with people’s hang-ups.

Counseling is not a part of my job description.”

“But you can’t help interacting with these students. As a

teacher you must see what some of them have gone through

in their lives.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I know what to say. If I need

to, I send them to the school nurse who recommends them

for counseling.”

“Maybe you teachers need a little counseling too?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her face reddened. She stepped backward into the decorative

walls of the old theater. “I mean, you see a lot of what

goes on. You have to deal with a lot. It’s bound to get to you

after a while.”

Lindsay didn’t know the half of it, but she came pretty

close, more than anyone he had ever met. He surmised that

her close association with teachers helped her understand

their woes. Not only were teachers responsible for learning,

but they also had to deal with the problems students brought

into the building. It became a never-ending struggle, balancing

the art of learning with social behavior.

The group headed downstairs to the museum where Jeff

examined the cases of artifacts, along with the students.

Looking from the coat Lincoln wore when he suffered the

fatal bullet wound to the door that separated the killer from

the presidential box, he thought back to the time of Lincoln.

Even in those times, deeply disturbed people did terrible

72 things, even going so far as to assassinate one of the most

beloved presidential figures in American history. Jeff didn’t

want to see any students of his turn into evil people. He

wanted them to lead productive lives. What could he do?

Teachers had no counseling degrees. Perhaps if he continued

using history as a mechanism to point them toward God—at

least that was a step in the right direction.

While the students gathered in the gift shop to look for a

few mementos, Jeff slipped into the men’s room. At the sinks,

he found Troy and Robbie squaring off. The young men, with

red faces and hands clenched into fists, stood before each

other, waiting for one or the other to throw the first punch.

Jeff swallowed hard when he saw the sight. Breaking up fights

was not his forte. Yet he could ill afford a bathroom brawl on a

school outing, or the board would never allow him to conduct

another field trip in his life.

“All right, guys—what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Robbie wiped the sweat off his upper lip.

Troy didn’t answer.

“Look—if you guys can’t be civilized, then you’re going to

have to stay away from each other and from Jewel. I can’t have

this going on. We’re here to learn, not to pick fights.”

Troy marched off, mumbling something unintelligible

under his breath. Robbie shook his head. “I don’t know, but

Troy really has a problem.”

“I doubt you’re helping the situation.”

“Hey, all I did was talk to Jewel. Troy acts like he owns her.

She and I go way back. Our mothers are good friends. He’s the

one who needs to learn some self-control. Man, he almost

landed me one right in the face. I had to duck, you know.”

“Then you two had better keep away from each other.

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I know you, Robbie. You’ll get under people’s skin just to irritate

them.”

“Yeah, and I know Troy is teacher’s pet, so that doesn’t help

me either, does it?”

Jeff felt his vexation rise. He let the comment go and

retreated to the museum. Lindsay gave him a questioning

glance, but he ignored it.

Shortly thereafter he called it a day and decided to head

the group back home. The events had worn him down to the

point that he felt like collapsing on the sidewalk beside the

homeless people sleeping in the parks of Washington, D.C.

Everything seemed in total disarray. Troy and Robbie grated

on his nerves like dual food processors. He’d had such high

hopes for the trip, too. On the drive home, his thoughts were a

puddle of mush. He stayed quiet, even when the group

stopped briefly at a fast food restaurant before arriving back at

the school.

When the last of the students had been picked up, Jeff

dragged himself to his car. In the distance, he saw Lindsay

preparing to enter her own vehicle. Perhaps there was one

bright spot to this gloomy day. Even though she appeared a

bit haggard, Lindsay was still stunning to his beleaguered

eyes. Something about her stirred him, especially after their

adventure in Washington. He decided to ask her out for a cup

of coffee. He needed to brush off his concern over Troy and

Robbie on someone. To his relief she agreed to go.

They headed for the closest coffee shop and ordered cappuccinos.

The place was nearly deserted at that time of night.

Most patrons required coffee in the morning to jump-start

their day. Jeff didn’t care that the coffee might keep him up all

night. He needed this time more than anything right now. He

74 swallowed down half his cappuccino before confiding in

Lindsay of the confrontation in the rest room of the museum.

“I thought something like that would happen. Both Troy

and Robbie had ugly looks on their faces. They’re like gang

leaders.”

Jeff shivered at the comparison. “I’m not sure what to do.

To top it off, Robbie has accused me of showing favoritism. I

realize Troy and I have had several conversations. I like to

stimulate his interest in history, but I don’t want my classes to

think I’m showing favoritism. It looks bad, you know.”

“I used it to my advantage,” Lindsay mused.

Jeff straightened in his seat at these words, wondering what

she meant.

“I discovered Troy was a favorite and used it to help with

the class fundraiser.” She closed her mouth and bent her

head as if embarrassed by the fact.

Jeff chewed on his lower lip. “Then that proves there’s a

problem.”

“It doesn’t prove anything. All teachers have favorites when

they find students who love their subjects. Besides I wanted

your fundraiser to succeed. I realize how important it is to

your future at Western High. That’s why I picked Troy to

help me.” “I’m

trying to teach these young people history, but I guess

I’m letting other things get in the way, like showing

favoritism. Jesus didn’t show anyone favoritism. He wanted

everyone to know Him.”

“Yes, but the Bible talks about the one disciple Jesus loved.

I think sometimes God knits us together with people so we

can reach them in a particular way. I believe we’ve both been

drawn to Jewel and Troy for some special purpose. Initially,

75 we may have been drawn by other circumstances. I think now

we see that we may be able to help them.”

“I still don’t want to show partiality or give the appearance

of it. This makes the students hostile toward one another, like

what I witnessed today.”

Lindsay sipped on her coffee. “I wouldn’t worry about it.

Just do the best job you can with what God gives you. After

today I can see He’S given you a great gift, Jeff. It’s good to

see Christian teachers using whatever opportunity they have

to share about God. We need more of that in the schools.”

“It’s not easy, let me tell you. If some teacher thought I was

thrusting my religion down students’ throats, I could find

myself sitting out on a step with an unemployed sign hanging

around my neck. It takes wisdom in these kinds of situations.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I had a teacher once that I tried to counsel.

She was coping with a marriage break-up. I tried to tell

her how much God wanted her marriage to work. When she

realized what was happening, she blatantly told me not to put

my religion on her, especially on school property. I was pretty

surprised. She also ended up canceling the contract. It would

have been a great program, too.”

“So you’ve had it happen to you.”

“Yes. I bawled my eyes out on Skip’s shoulder. He’s a

Christian and understood where I was coming from. He

told me I needed wisdom, too. Be wise as serpents and gentle

as doves.”

Jeff never heard her final statement. He felt as if a sharp

needle had suddenly jabbed him. Never mind what they had

been discussing, though it was highly important. Right now

he could only concentrate on the fact that Lindsay had a

boyfriend named Skip. He had just begun working up the

76 courage to ask if she might want to go to a historical site

sometime, like Williamsburg or Jamestown. Come to find

out, she was already taken. Jeff thrust the coffee down his

throat and informed her it was getting late.

During the drive home, he felt empty inside. The whole day

seemed like a waste, a day he had planned since the beginning

of the school year. The students were mean to each other and

disliked him for showing favoritism. And now Lindsay had a

boyfriend. What did he have to show for this day except sore

feet from traipsing across hard floors and cement sidewalks?

Jeff pulled into the parking space by his duplex, laid his

head back against the seat, and closed his eyes. What ever led

him to believe he and Lindsay might have something going?

At first, everything. Her whole personality; her love for the

Lord; her childlike interest in history, like one just discovering

a new world; her involvement with the students—it all tugged

at him with a force he could not shake. Now that she had a

boyfriend, he had nothing to fill the void. He swung the keys

around his finger. He would have to go on teaching history to

students who cared little about the subject and hope that

along the way God might have a few surprises left for him.

Jeff entered the lonely apartment to discover he had left the

milk container on the table from breakfast. A disagreeable

odor drifted to his nostrils. He poured the remaining contents

down the drain and, in that moment, saw his hopes and

dreams vanish along with the sour milk. “I should be singing

‘and away go troubles down the drain,’” he mumbled to himself,

“but there only seem to be more in the works.”

He went to his answering machine and found several calls.

The last one was from his older sister, Candy. “Hey, little bro,

give me a call when you get a chance and let me know what’s