The teacher
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Tuesday
Lily tapped softly on the door of Mr. Shulman's office, opening it slightly by the iron handle. There was no one at the table, and no one inside, so the girl boldly entered the classroom, threw her bag on the table, and plopped down wearily on a chair.
«So where is this slicker? »
There was a sigh from behind, and Lily jumped up, turning to face Mr. Shulman, who was sitting in the back row, smiling contentedly.
«Well, at least not a Jew, or an old moron or something worse. »
Lily clutched her head guiltily, cursing herself for getting tangled up like a ball of silk thread.
It would have been stupid to apologize, so the girl was silent, looking at the man's groin, lost in tension.
«For you, inquisitive, I'm as flat as a toy soldier in my pants…» Tom said, pulling out the necessary papers, wanting to lighten the situation with a joke, but only making it worse. Lily immediately turned away, feeling even more guilty, wanting to run somewhere far away, cursing herself for her own absent-mindedness, so that she wouldn't look him in the eye again.
Before that, the pale face flared up like fire. The man handed her the test, inviting her to sit next to him at the same table.
«Move your chair!»
Reluctantly, Lily got up from her seat, dragged the heavy furniture over, and sat down next to Thomas, swallowing hard. The man, not wanting to violate the chain of command and personal space, moved a little to the window, noticing how the team of girls chases the ball on the green field.
«Write a test,
«Thank you.» Her slender fingers couldn't handle the mechanism, so the owner of the pen wrapped his arm around Lily's arm, took a shaky breath, and wrote her last name together.
«Not fatal, is it?»
The student shook her head at these questions, feeling that Shulman's insistent gaze on her profile was distracting her from her task. The high forehead, smooth cheekbones, and small nose touched the thoughtful Thomas. Brown eyes darted around the classroom, occasionally squinting, and plump lips brushed his hand, leaving a trail.
After a few minutes, the man got up and walked around the office, muttering to himself, sighing, leaning in close to Lily from time to time, inhaling her perfume, leaving his own behind, which soaked into her skin, hair, and clothes, and was interrupted by fresh Cologne. Gray eyes searched for answers, blinking and grumbling.
«Why are you so disappointed, Lily? » came the hoarse question in the silence, interrupted by the rasp of a sharp pen on paper.
Lily looked at Mr. Shulman, who was standing between the two table's with his hands on them and the sleeves of his beige shirt rolled up. His dark eyes were fixed directly on her, and his lips were compressed and barely visible behind the thick vegetation.
«What makes you think that? »
«You write an essay about a love you don't believe in. Don't you have a boyfriend who can prove otherwise?»
The girl dropped her pen. Outside the window, an icy rain began to fall, as if washing over Lily's inner sadness. The dark clouds appeared too quickly, as did the interest and curiosity of the Jew waiting for an answer.
«Why waste time on someone who won't even remember you in ten years?»
The man straightened up.
«Love is just a collective concept, isn't it? What are we waiting for under the word «love»? Beautiful promises, prickly rose thorns, loud vows, a warm bed, and estrangement in the end?»
Thomas nodded, humming politely, choosing his words.
«Don't you think it's worth looking at from the right angle? You don't think so, do you? Beautiful promises are promises that give a part of the soul. Prickly thorns are part of the beautiful roses, and the bed is warmed by two, without them it is cold. Too many contradictions, Miss Yung.
»The girl chuckled.
«Not for me. You are a literature teacher and you tend to romanticize everything.»
Tom stifled a chuckle, wishing he was still a romantic in her eyes, not the leader of a gang that had hundreds of ruined lives and many times as many broken destinies on its hands.
«What about your passes? Is the issue resolved?»
Lily nodded, passing the answers to the man.
«Well, let's see…» the man raised his thin glasses, through which the paper text was reflected.
The elements were raging outside the window. Rain lashed through the slightly cracked old windows, letting in a biting chill.
Part III
On Wednesday afternoon, Thomas was in a hurry to go about his business, but the thought of the student's absence bothered him. What if she had already been killed and thrown into a ditch on the way home? She must have been hitchhiking. Anxiety and curiosity consumed him, and Tom took her personal file from the Director's office, studied it with interest, and went to the right address. No information other than that her father is an attach'e and her mother is a homemaker. Address and phone number, that's all.
«Not really,» he said, looking at the report card.
An hour later, he reached a run-down, God-forsaken village and stopped at an old two-story brick-coloured log house. The flimsy door with its cracked and crumbling paint made feel terribly sad, and the iron handle was completely broken. Brown Windows with rotten frames and a small porch with a short roof. Now Tom wanted to go back to his mansion and get rid of the memory of that awful house, if it could still be called home. Shulman knocked politely when he heard a child's screeching and footsteps. The door swung open, and for a moment he thought he was being attacked by a pack of crazy bats, but it was much worse – they were her younger brothers. Three identical boys, about seven years old, circled around Tom, waiting for something delicious, which He brought, serving the boys sweets with liqueur. Shulman didn't say that he didn't like children, but when there were women around him, he preferred to end up in rags or on a sheet. It is better to listen to five minutes of dissatisfaction about a spoiled bed, than to spend a lifetime dissatisfied about how bad the offspring turned out. The children sorted out the candy, shouting a triple «thank you» and giving one each to Thomas and his driver, who returned to the car.
«Where's the sister? Shulman asked, chewing on a piece of candy and looking around the room.
«In the bathroom. What's it? » one of the boys asked, touching the chain on his arm with his fingers, while the others flew up curiously, fiddling with the wide gold braid.
Tom looked slowly at the faded maroon Wallpaper, the whitewashed ceiling, and the broken linoleum. Two sofas, a coffee table and a huge library. A short flight of stairs to the second floor, a beige door, and the silhouette of a girl who came out of the house holding only a white towel. Lily looked down at the children from the railing and gaped when she saw Thomas below.
«Is that you?»
Tom just nodded, beckoning to her, knowing that he was going to give her a good spanking, but she was careful.
«You want to kick my ass? Go ahead!»
«Better fuck you in the ass, then you won't be able to sit in class, but maybe you'll get smarter.» Tom thought, feeling a pleasant shiver run down his back and groin.
It didn't take him long to relax when the living room fell silent and he saw a young girl, wet from the shower, her hair dripping in a light blue cotton house dress. Her brown eyes, framed by wet, curled lashes, fascinated him.