"…and I don't think that I could make it without you, Scott."
Even before Steven Harper made this confession to his second in command, he could feel the tears from fear, frustration, and shear exhaustion threatening to spill over. Only one broke free as he scurried from Guber's office.
"Damn him and that impassive look," he thought
angrily.
Back in his office, Scott sat frozen for a few minutes. Normally, he would have followed Steven into his office and made sure that he was ok. Today was different. A dark cloud of weariness settled over him as he reached over to turn on his radio and return to work.
"This cannot be it," he muttered to no one in particular. "I really don't give damn what Steven says! The hell with them…oh." Scott finally took a critical eye to the work of the past 15 minutes and realized it was all for naught. Calculations were off, sentences were even repeated two or three times. He finally put his pen down and leaned back.
"Ah, Handal's Water Music." A small smile crept over Guber's face as the familiar notes wafted from the radio. The tension finally began to drip away from his body. No Marla, no Steven, no punk kids…just the comforting music wrapping him in a cocoon.
Just then, a frantic knocking sounded at his door. Louisa poked her head in and tried to get his attention.
"Scott…SCOTT!"
He turned lazily toward her, not wanted to give up the wonderful feeling.
"Scott, Mr. Ward is here."
Something about her voice finally made him sit up and take notice. Scott snapped back into professional mode and told Louisa to send him in. Looking at Mr. Ward's deathly pale face and bright red eyes sent his stomach into the basement. Scott tried to open his mouth to ask what happened, but Mr. Ward beat him to it.
"Anthony was found dead in the bathroom at West Boston High. The same thing happened. His computer skills got out to the wrong people. One of the basketball stars in danger of getting kicked off the team asked him to change his grades. Instead of getting hung out the window, he paid with his life for doing the right thing. That bastard was 6'5" and 220 lbs, and he went after Anthony…" Mr. Ward's voice broke as he tried to clear his voice. "I just thought you should know, because Anthony was really fond of you."
Mr. Ward paused to remove a piece of paper from his wallet. "I found this in Anthony's backpack. It was addressed to you. I don't know what's inside. I'm sorry, I have to go now. My wife is in the car. She could not bring herself to come in. Thank you for all that you did for Anthony." He turned and left Scott's office.
Scott looked down at the note in his shaking hand. He
couldn't think…he almost couldn't breath. What could Anthony have written him? He
opened the note. It detailed his attempts to fit in at West Boston; joining the
debate team, even finding a few friends. Scott smiled through his tears at how the
young man's personality shone through his words. The ice-cold and harsh reality
of how this young man died suddenly hit Scott like a truck. It just wasn't
fair. Damnit, it just wasn't fair!
After a couple of minutes, Scott looked up with a start. In his grief, he didn't hear Steven enter his office. Looking up at his friend, Scott's heart constricted as he saw the depth of grief in Steven's eyes. "Scott, I'm so sorry," breathed Steven.
"You were fond of him as well, " Scott croaked. "Do you know about the problems Anthony had at West?"
"I had a suspicion…but I had no idea it was this out of control." Steven's voice trailed off. He looked over at Scott, who was dangerously close to breaking down completely. " Now, it's too late…" Steven pulled the smaller man into a bear hug and held him as they both wept bitterly at the senseless loss.
About a half an hour
later…
Steven Harper and Scott Guber sat together in the vice-principal's office observing the sunset over the city. Both were loath to break the companionable silence, considering all of the problems the two had as of late. Scott finally spoke.
"We have to go to the police. Some good has to come of this tragedy."
"Agreed. Let's go first thing tomorrow. I just cannot handle anything else tonight."
"OK." They started toward the door when Scott paused.
"Steven, I am so sorry at the way I have acted towards you." Steven started to speak, but Scott held up his hand. "Please, let me finish. It just took the death of an incredibly special young man to show me that I am not ready to take the reins just yet. I don't know how I would have handled this on my own. Would you be interested in keeping a grumpy old administrator around for a little while longer?"
Steven was touched at this admission. He put a hand on Scott's shoulder and said, "I don't want a grumpy old administrator at my school. I want you."
"Thank you, " he whispered with fresh tears in his eyes.
"C'mon Scott. Tomorrow we fight. Tonight we
grieve."