But that wasn’t going to happen.
That afternoon I once again looked over the questions Cary had given me, but I didn’t have the heart to work on answering them. Instead, I lay on my bed for a while, staring into space and trying to work out some way to make things right.
I hadn’t figured anything out by the time our BSC meeting rolled around, but I was still trying. Charlie teased me about my silence during our drive to Claudia’s house. “I can practically hear the gears moving inside that head of yours,” he said to me. “Careful, you don’t want to wear out your brain!”
I ignored him. I wasn’t desperate enough to ask his advice.
Yet.
In Claudia’s room, I tried to forget my troubles and concentrate on running the meeting. But it wasn’t one of the club’s best days. After I’d called the meeting to order Mary Anne asked an innocent question.
“How’s the biography project going?” She reached into the box of Mallomars Claudia was passing around and pulled one out.
Now, what was I supposed to say to that? “Well,” I said slowly, “it’s kind of … actually, Cary and I have hit a little snag.” Obviously, I couldn’t go into any of the details. I didn’t know what I’d say if she asked any more questions.
Fortunately, Claudia jumped in.
Unfortunately, what she said made Stacey feel rotten.
“It’s going great for me,” said Claudia. “Jeremy is so interesting!” She reached out for a Mallomar. “I mean, today I found out that he once swam with dolphins down in Florida or somewhere. He said it was one of the most meaningful experiences of his life. It was as if he was communicating with the dolphins. Isn’t that awesome?”
Stacey did not look happy. “He never told me that,” she said.
“I’m sure he would have,” Mary Anne put in. “Eventually, I mean.”
Stacey just glared at her. “The most meaningful experience of his life, and he tells somebody else before he tells me?” She was holding a big pretzel Claudia had passed her, and she broke it in half without seeming to notice.
“One of the most meaningful,” I pointed out. “Not the most meaningful.”
“Oh, big difference,” said Stacey. “Right. So all I have to do is ask him what was the most meaningful experience, and then I’ll know more than her.”
Claudia blushed. “Actually,” she said, “he kind of told me that already.”
Stacey looked as if she wanted to stomp out of the room. But she kept her cool. “Oh?” she said, raising her eyebrows. “And what was it?”
Claudia’s blush grew deeper, but she was smiling. “Um, I’m not really supposed to tell.”
“Oh, that’s just terrific.” Stacey threw up her hands.
I decided the time had come to change the subject. “So, about my Christmas party,” I began, trying to sound cheerful. “The invitations are in the mail!”
Stacey, who had still been glaring at Claudia’s profile (Claudia refused to look at her), glanced at me. “You invited Jeremy, right?” she asked.
“Right,” I said with a sinking feeling. Oh, man. If Claudia and Stacey couldn’t deal with the Jeremy issue when he wasn’t even in the room, what was it going to be like when the three of them were at a party together?
“I just hope he doesn’t spend the whole evening whispering secrets into his friend’s ear,” she said frostily, avoiding Claudia’s eyes.
“I won’t go near him, if that’s what you want.” Claudia looked angry now. “If you’re so insecure about your relationship, I’ll just stay away.”
“Insecure? I’m not insecure. I just don’t like it when —”
Luckily the phone rang just then. For a few minutes we were forced to act professional. By the time I’d set up a sitting job with the Pikes, Stacey and Claudia had simmered down.
“So, Kristy,” Mary Anne asked with a falsely casual note in her voice, “did you invite Logan?” She bit into her second Mallomar.
“Not yet,” I replied. “I was waiting to talk to you about that. Do you think it would be okay? Or would it be awkward?”
“You mean you might not invite Logan?” Claudia interrupted. “That would be weird, since a lot of his other friends will be there.”
“I know. But it has to be okay with Mary Anne.” I looked at her. “Is it? Okay, I mean?”
Mary Anne glanced down at the Mallomar she was holding. She looked as if she’d just lost her appetite. “Do you think he’ll come with a date?” she asked.
I shook my head. “It’s not that kind of party. At least I don’t want it to be. I think people will just come on their own.”
“Not that he couldn’t date if he wanted to,” Mary Anne added, with a shaky smile. She was still holding the Mallomar. She reached for a tissue from the box on Claudia’s night table, wrapped the cookie in it, and threw it away. “Sorry to waste that. I just wasn’t hungry anymore.” She took a deep breath and turned to me. “It’s okay if you invite him,” she said. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
I nodded. “All right, then,” I said.
As I looked around the room at my friends, I realized that I wasn’t the only one with problems. It wasn’t an easy time for any of us.
Eeesh. I looked down at Cary’s list of questions. Could they be any more boring? Oh, well, I thought. At least it won’t take me long to answer them. It didn’t either. I whipped through the whole page in under an hour. Then I wrote up a similar list for Cary. It was just as boring as his, because I couldn’t ask the one question that mattered most: What did you do to be kicked out of school? When the list was done, I rode my bike over to his house to drop it off. I was hoping he might be home so I’d have another chance to talk to him, but the house was deserted. I left the list in his family’s mailbox and headed back home.
Sunday evening seemed to stretch on forever. All I could think about was the meeting about Ted, now less than twenty-four hours away. I’d told Watson and my mom about it, and they’d promised to come. I tried to make some notes about things to say at the meeting, but I couldn’t concentrate. I was too mad.
All day Monday I felt as if I were marking time. Every hour was just part of the countdown to the big meeting.
Finally, the moment arrived. My English class had agreed to gather in the hall and walk into the meeting together, so I looked around the crowded entrance until I spotted Jeremy and Alan. As I headed for them, I saw Watson and my mom arrive and join some of their friends. Jeremy looked tense.
“What’s up?” I asked.
He glanced to his right, and I followed his eyes. There was Merrie — and Mrs. Dow. They were arguing in hushed tones.
“But I promised I’d sit with my friends,” Merrie was saying in a strained voice.
“Friends? Those are not the kind of friends you should have, young lady,” said Mrs. Dow. “You’re sitting with me.”
Merrie looked pale. Slowly, she shook her head. “No, I’m not,” she said. “I’m sorry,” she added in a whisper. Then she turned and joined the boys and me. Mrs. Dow gaped after her.
I reached out to touch Merrie’s shoulder. “Good for you,” I said quietly. “You really stood up for yourself.”
She tried to smile. “Thanks.”
Jeremy nodded to her. “That couldn’t have been easy,” he said sympathetically.
Alan just smiled and kept quiet, which was probably a good thing. It wasn’t the time for one of his wisecracks, and for once he had the sense to see that.
I glanced at my mom, who was standing near the door with Watson and another couple. I spotted the SAY NO TO CENSORSHIP button on my mom’s lapel and smiled to myself. I was proud of her, and I knew I was lucky to have a mom who felt the way I did about issues like this one.
Soon the rest of our class arrived. The crowd around the entrance had grown, and I tried to guess how many of them were on Ted’s side and how many were not. It was impossible to tell by looking at people, except for the small knot of men and women standing with Mrs. Dow.
They were all talking angrily, and several of them were carrying briefcases bulging with, I assumed, materials to support their case.
“We’d better go in,” Jeremy said, “if we want to find seats together. Looks like it’s going to be crowded in there.”
He was right. We were able to grab a row in the auditorium (I saved seats for Mary Anne and Stacey, who had promised to come), but by the time everyone had filed in, the room was packed and most seats were taken.
I sat between Jeremy and Claudia. Cary took a seat at the other end of the row, but I tried not to let it bug me. I was here to concentrate on helping Ted.
The noise level in the auditorium was incredible. If you think a cafeteria full of middle-school students is loud, you should try an auditorium full of angry community members. Everybody was talking at once while they waited for the meeting to begin.
“… no right to subject our children to filth …” I heard on one side.
“… a decent man, and he doesn’t deserve to lose his job over …” I heard on the other.
The buzz in the room became even louder when Ted walked onto the stage, accompanied by a man and a woman in business suits. “They’re lawyers from the teachers’ union,” Jeremy said. “I heard they’d be with him.”
Now Mr. Taylor was walking onto the stage, along with our assistant principal, Mr. Kingbridge, and several teachers, including most of the English department. They filed in, looking very serious, and took seats on the other side of the stage from Ted. A large podium stood between Ted and everyone else from SMS.
“This looks more like a trial than a meeting,” I whispered to Claudia. She nodded with a little shiver.
Mary Anne and Stacey arrived just before Mr. Taylor stood up at the podium. They slid into their seats as he called the meeting to order. “I’d like to welcome you all to this meeting,” he said. “The administration of SMS is pledged to consider the needs and concerns of the Stoneybrook community. An issue has been raised concerning the conduct of Mr. Ted Morley, and we are here to discuss the case and hear from those involved: that is, Mr. Morley himself, the head of the English department, the parents of this community, and any students who wish to speak.”
I felt my heart race when I heard that. I did “wish to speak,” but the size of the crowd in the auditorium was intimidating. Would I really be able to stand up for what I believed in, in front of all those people?
Fortunately, I didn’t have to do it right away. Mr. Taylor invited Ted to speak first. “I believe that Mr. Morley has a right to explain and defend his actions,” he said, waving Ted up to the podium.
Ted stood for a moment, looking out at the crowd. Then he took a deep breath. “Thank you all for coming,” he said. “It’s good to see so many people in this community taking an active role in the education of their children.”
The crowd murmured. I had a feeling the protesters hadn’t expected Ted to be so diplomatic.
“I’d like to apologize, first of all,” said Ted, “for not submitting my reading list for the approval of the English department. I honestly did not know this was required. At my last teaching post, which was at a private school, teachers made assignments at their own discretion. My introduction to SMS was rushed, and if I was told of this requirement I forgot about it. I do apologize for this.” He paused, cleared his throat, closed his eyes for a second, and began to speak again. “I do not, however, apologize for the content of that list.”
There was a stirring in the auditorium, and several people began to speak at once. “Save our children!” called out one woman.
Mr. Taylor stood up and joined Ted at the podium. “Everyone will have a chance to speak,” he said, leaning closer to the microphone. “I must ask that you hold your comments until you are called on.” He waited for a moment until the buzz had died down. Then he nodded to Ted and took his seat again.
“I don’t have a lot more to say,” Ted continued. “Just that I stand behind every book on the list I handed out. I would also like to remind everyone that not one of the books on that list was mandatory reading. Students had complete freedom of choice in terms of what they decided to read, including choosing a book not on the list.”
“It’s still a choice between smut and filth!” yelled out a man in the third row.
“It’s time to let us speak!” shouted the woman sitting next to him.
Mr. Taylor stood up again as Ted took his seat. “As I said before, everyone will have a chance to speak. But the next person we’ll hear from is Ms. Breer, head of the English department. Please give her your attention and respect.”
Ms. Breer stood up, looking a little nervous. “I just want to go on record as saying that the department values Mr. Morley’s classroom expertise,” she began.
A loud hiss came from somewhere near the back of the auditorium. Mr. Taylor rose halfway to his feet and glared out from the stage, and the noise stopped.
Ms. Breer gave him a grateful glance and continued. “It’s true that Mr. Morley may not have understood the protocol we follow regarding reading lists. Mrs. Simon’s early departure was a surprise to all of us, and we may not have been able to brief Mr. Morley as thoroughly as usual.” She looked down at the notes she was holding, bit her lip, and went on. “I would also add that if Mr. Morley had presented his list to me, I would have approved it.”
Some of the protesters jumped to their feet and started yelling. Other people, Ted’s supporters, began to applaud.
Ms. Breer stepped back from the podium. Then she walked quickly to her seat. Mr. Taylor stood again and held up his hands. “Please, please,” he said. “Can everyone please quiet down? Let’s continue in a civilized manner.” He peered out into the auditorium. “I call now on Mrs. Bertha Dow, who will represent her group, Parents for Decency.”
Merrie was sitting two seats away from me, on the other side of Jeremy. I could almost feel her cringing, and I shot her a sympathetic look. Jeremy gave her a little shoulder hug.
Mrs. Dow climbed the steps to the stage and took her place behind the podium. “I want to say, first of all,” she began, “that we are not here to destroy anyone’s name or create any sort of community rift. We simply care about our children’s moral education. It is up to us, their parents and teachers, to bring them up to be decent, respectful adults. Children are not born with values; they learn them. And some of the books on this list,” she waved a piece of paper in the air, “do nothing but subvert the values we hold most dear.”
A cheer rose from one section of the auditorium.
Mrs. Dow went on to point out page numbers that, she said, contained instances of “excessive violence, obscenity, negative role models, and immorality” in some of the books on Ted’s list. Books like The Catcher in the Rye and Homecoming.
I could hardly believe my ears. I watched Ted closely as Mrs. Dow was speaking and saw him wince as she tore into the books on his list.
When she finished, there was a huge burst of applause — and a scattering of boos. I glanced at my mom. I knew she wouldn’t boo, because she would consider that rude. But I couldn’t help agreeing with the people who were letting Mrs. Dow know how they felt. How could anyone sit still and let her talk that way about great books?
“I’ll now call on those who have come to support Mr. Morley,” said Mr. Taylor after the noise had died down. He glanced at a paper in his hand. “Mrs. Rioko Kishi?”
I saw Claudia’s mom rise and walk toward the stage, and I reached over to squeeze Claud’s hand. “I bet she’ll be great,” I whispered.
She was.
Mrs. Kishi is the head librarian at the Stoney-brook Public Library. She must have had a lot of experience with this issue, because she came prepared. She spoke simply but powerfully about the First Amendment and what it means. She mentioned court cases that have supported the right of the American people to free choice. And she read several quotes that made my spine tingle. I asked her about them later and wrote some of them down. “Freedom of thought and freedom o
f speech in our great institutions of learning are absolutely necessary … the moment that either is restricted, liberty begins to wither and die….” That one was by someone named John Peter Altged. Another one, from Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas, was, “Restriction of free thought and free speech is the most dangerous of all subversions. It is the one un-American act that could most easily defeat us.” (Right on, William O.!)
The issue was bigger than I had ever imagined. I felt exhilarated to be part of the debate.
Mrs. Kishi left the stage and took her seat amid more buzzing and shouting. Then Mr. Taylor was standing behind the podium again. “I understand that Mr. Morley’s students would like to speak,” he said.
Gulp. My exhilaration vanished, to be replaced by panic. It was my turn to talk.
I knew I should stand up, but I couldn’t make my legs work. I felt incredibly hot. The sweater I was wearing was making my neck itchy. And I couldn’t seem to breathe easily.
Jeremy nudged me. “Go ahead, Kristy,” he whispered. “You can do it!”
I met his eyes, and he smiled and nodded. No wonder Claudia and Stacey like him so much, I thought. Jeremy is a genuinely nice guy.
Claudia patted my shoulder. “Just tell them what we think,” she reminded me. “Nothing to it.”
I looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Nothing to it?” I asked. “Do you want to do it?”
She shook her head vehemently. I had to laugh. That relaxed me enough to unparalyze my muscles, and I stood up. I began the long walk to the stage.
I saw heads turn to look at me as I went by. My mom gave me a big thumbs-up, and Watson smiled and nodded encouragingly. I saw Stacey’s mom sitting a few rows down, and Mary Anne’s dad and stepmother. Most of my teachers were there, and lots of kids I knew from other classes.
As I passed the rows where the protesters were sitting, I shivered a little. Their glances were cool, and some of them even looked angry. I had a feeling they thought kids shouldn’t have any say in matters like these.