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"Ms. Baxter," said the red-haired woman, "did you actually see the
two
girls touch each other in a sexual way?"
"Well," said Ms. Baxter, "they stood there holding hands while I was
..."
"I said in a sexual way. In an overtly, umnistakably sexual way.
Holding
hands, especially under stress, doesn't seem to me to be particularly
significant."
"Well," said Ms. Baxter, glancing uncomfortably at Mrs. Poindexter,
"well, in--er--that kind of way, overtly, perhaps not, but after all,
it
was plain as day what they had been up to. As I said, the bed was
rumpled, and there were ..."
"I see," said the red-haired woman. "Thank you."
"Any more questions for Ms. Baxter?" asked Mr. Turner, looking
around at the members of the board.
"I would just like to remind the
board," said Mrs. Poindexter huffily--she had not once looked at me
or
my parents--"that Ms. Baxter has been in the employ of this school
for
ten years, and that her record is impeccable."
"Ms. Stevenson and Ms. Widmer have both been at the school for
fifteen
years, am I right?" asked the red-haired woman.
"Ms. Stevenson and Ms. Widmer," said Mrs. Poindexter, "especially Ms.
Stevenson, have become increasingly permissive as the years have
passed.
In fact, Ms. Stevenson ..."
"Please," said Mr. Turner, "we are not discussing the teachers now."
Then he turned to me, and I guess the twitch at the corners of his
mouth
was his attempt at a reassuring smile. "Eliza," he said--and I felt
my
stomach almost drop out.
"Unconquerable soul," I tried to say to myself; "bloody but unbowed,"
and I touched Annie's ring again and took a deep breath to make
myself
calmer--but none of it really helped. "Liza, rather. Thank you for
coming. I know this is going to be difficult for you, and quite
possibly
embarrassing. I have to tell you, however, that we would prefer that
you
speak instead of your parents--of course they may assist you--and if
at
any time the three of you feel you cannot proceed without counsel, we
will adjourn until you can obtain same." I was a little confused,
mostly
because of being so nervous, and I guess Dad must have sensed it
because
he moved his chair next to mine and said, "May I explain to
my daughter, sir, that what you mean is that if she wants a lawyer,
or
we do, the hearing can be stopped until we get one?"
Mr. Turner did
smile then, and said, "Certainly, Mr. Winthrop, and I thank you for
doing so with such economy. I shall try to use--er--plainer
language."
Of course then I felt like a dummy, which didn't help at all. "Liza,"
said the red-haired woman, "mostly we'd just like your version of
what
happened when Ms. Baxter knocked at the door. Can you tell us?" I
didn't
know what to say at first, so I licked my lips and cleared my throat
and
did all the things people do when they're stalling for time. I didn't
want to lie any more, but I didn't want to tell them everything
either.
But finally I realized she hadn't asked me about what had happened
before Ms. Baxter arrived, so I relaxed a little. I told them that it
had been more or less the way Ms. Baxter had said, except that she'd
started to go upstairs before she'd seen Annie and that I didn't
think I
had "forcibly prevented" her from doing that, although I had tried to
stop her. But the more I talked the more I realized it was obvious
that
I was leaving a lot out--and I also felt more and more that whatever
I
said wasn't going to make much difference anyway. It was what we were
that Mrs. Poindexter and Ms. Baxter were against, as much as what
we'd
done. As soon as I realized that, I thought it was all over.
"Liza," Mr. Turner said delicately, "Ms. Baxter mentioned that you
seemed
--er--not quite dressed. Is that so?"
"Well," I began; I could feel my face getting red. "Yes, sort of. But
..."
"What were you wearing, hon?" the red-haired woman asked.
"A shirt and jeans," I said.
"As Ms. Baxter pointed out," said Mrs. Poindexter, "that was
obviously all
she was wearing."
"Mrs. Poindexter," said Mr. Turner angrily, "this young woman let Ms.
Baxter speak without interruption. I think the least all of us can do
is
extend her the same courtesy." Mrs. Poindexter grunted. But
unfortunately she'd made her point, and I could see the pencils
scribbling.
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