"Hello? Mr. Brown? Are you busy right now?"
The balding man sitting at the old wooden desk, as was his usual practice, didn't even look up as he answered the question, holding up a solitary finger in a very obvious, and very annoying, injunction to wait, "Just a moment, young lady, and I'll be right with you. Why don't you take a seat?" His hand vaguely indicated one of the desks lined up in neat rows.
Jamie looked with amusement at the battered, graffiti-strewn desk, with it's attached chair. With an internal shrug, she slid onto the hard plastic seat, crossing her legs under the thin writing surface. She hadn't actually sat in one of these things in over six years, although she had used one for another purpose.
As she sat there, she took the time to study the diminutive man. Really, she supposed, he hasn't changed at all in the intervening years, and she couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. His head still reflected light in the most preposterous way, and she suspected that the man reason he wore a full beard was because of a weak-looking chin. Not that it really would have mattered; somewhat overweight and completely unremarkable looking, he was never a danger as a lady-killer. However, her perception of him had certainly changed: He was no longer the source of dread and fear that he had previously been.
She felt a wry smile starting to creep onto her face as she thought about how things had changed, and how much more free she currently felt. But then she remembered why she was there, and she knew if he saw this look on her face, the entire mood of the conversation would be different than she wanted it to be. So she schooled her features, attempting a look of respectful civility.
Finally, after a lengthy period of time where Jamie felt that it almost had to be on purpose to keep her waiting, he looked up from his papers to see who was intruding in his classroom, "Ah, you're not one of my students, are you? My apologies, I should not have kept you waiting like that." His eyes betrayed the fact that he did recognize her as someone he had met before, even if he could not place her.
Jamie really had to fight to keep her features neutral. The tone he used demonstrated absolutely no remorse for his rudeness, the pitiful attempt at an apology was obviously borne out of his sense of propriety, and he just as clearly had no idea that it was actually more annoying than if he had said nothing at all. My God, she thought, he even treats other adults this way.
"No, Mr. Brown, I'm not. Or at least, I haven't been, for some time."
"Ah, I see. A former student. Forgive me if I can't place you at the moment, you've caught me off-guard. This isn't exactly the, uh.... time of year when former students usually drop by, and I wasn't expecting it." Jamie had absolutely no trouble deciphering this statement as a lie. Clearly this teacher almost never received visits from old students, and she wasn't surprised. Who would ever look back at this man and remember him as a favorite? She knew that if he had been standing, his little speech would have been accompanied by his annoying hand-gesture, sliding his hands up and down, palms together, his fingers sliding in and out of each other.
"That's all right, I understand. My name is Jamie Smith, and I was in your class eight years ago for 10th grade English. I wouldn't really expect you to remember me. I didn't exactly excel in your class, so I wouldn't exactly have been a favorite."
"Oh, I never played favorites in my classes."
"I'm sorry, that's not what I was trying to say, I never felt like you played favorites." This was a true statement. Mr. Brown had seemed to dislike all of his students equally.
"Regardless, you are correct, and I can't place you."
"Well, perhaps this will help." Jamie handed over a picture of herself from back in high school. She had tried to be as non-vain as possible, and she felt that the picture represented the way she looked most of the time that she had been in this place. Not that she looked all that different now, but she wanted to jog this man's memory as much as possible.
"Ah yes... that certainly is more familiar, but I'm afraid still only as a face."
"Well, there was one incident where you dealt with me directly. You pulled me aside after class once because you had seen me ride across the crosswalk on my bicycle, and you explained to me that the crosswalk was only for pedestrians, and that I should walk my bike across in the future." Of course, 'explained' was an understatement. His demeanor at the time had been much more aggressive. When she told others about the experience, 'chewed out' was usually the way she described it.
However, this didn't help either. Obviously, she was one of many who had violated this pet peeve of his.
"Regardless... what have you been up to since you left my class? Did you go to college?"
"Yes, actually. I actually went to an Ivy League university where I graduated with honors. At the moment I am continuing an athletic career while I work part-time towards a Master's degree."
"Well isn't that wonderful." Now it was obviously the man's turn to school his reactions, although it was obvious to Jamie that he did not mean what he said. Clearly there was a hint of surprise at her success, however she could not decide if this was because he was starting to remember her, or if it was because he didn't think much of his students in general.
Nonetheless, she decided to respond at face value, "I'm pretty happy with it. I'm not sure exactly where I'll go with it, but I'm leaving open a lot of options."
"Yes, well, that certainly is what we preach to our students. It's nice to see that the message gets through, at least to some. Well, may I ask what is the purpose of your visit?" His manner had turned a little more gruff, and Jamie wondered if there was some resentment there, the way some parents don't want their children to achieve more than they did.
"Well, in a nutshell, as I got a little older, and looked at the world, and saw what I thought was good, and what I thought was not so good, and what I saw were forces for improvement, I came to the conclusion that the most important thing in the world is education. And, as one writer put it, "If life were based on what is rational, elementary school teachers would be signing fat contracts...""
"Oh." The man was obviously surprised to hear such complimentary comments about his profession, "So, you're going around thanking the teachers that you liked?"
"No, not exactly. Because, to be honest, I think you're a terrible teacher. I think you turned more student off on academics than the other way around." She couldn't honestly imagine a student that would actually learn to love academics in this class, "However, I can't deny that you were obviously very passionate about teaching. You clearly put a huge effort into your work, and that's certainly worth something."
His gruff manner had returned, "Well then, what exactly is this? Are you thinking that you're going to get me to alter my teaching methods?"
"Oh, no, absolutely not. While I believe that people are capable of a certain amount of change in their lives, I have little doubt that you are so set in your ways that you would not be capable of a worthwhile change."
"Then would you explain what exactly you are here for?"
Jamie chewed her lip as she debated exactly how much she should tell this man, "Here's the thing: you were right that I've gone around and thanked... profusely... the teachers that I liked. In fact, I've already been back to this school on a number of occasions, and had really thought that I was done here a year ago. And at the time I had considered visiting you, because as I say, your zeal is certainly worth something."
"So I was so bad that you couldn't even stop by for a simple thank you?"
"It's not a simple thank you. Anyway, I decided against it, for obvious reasons. But then, a few months ago, as I was surfing the net, I came upon this website..."
After a scant few seconds of silence, the man could not hold his impatience to get this now-painful conversation over with, "Yes?"
"And well, it was about younger women, and older men. And sometimes the men were not the nicest. And somewhere along the line me coming here to visit you didn't sound so bad."
Again there was a long pause, but this time it was the man's turn to search for the right words, "Are you telling me you were looking at a porn site?"
"Well, yes." Jamie felt like she should say more, but she could see the wheels turning in the man's head, and decided to let him talk.
"And you enjoyed seeing images of older men... having sex... with younger women?"
"Yes."
"And now you're here." The man shook his head, obviously trying to find the flaw in his thoughts, "It almost sounds like you're offering to have sex with me, in some weird sort of thank you."
"Yes, Mr. Brown, you've got it right."