Chapter 25

Of course as soon as I arrived at school my blood pressure shot up for as I went down the hall to my room, I could hear Mrs. Harper yelling from inside. "No! NOOO! You're doing it wrong!" she was screeching so I expected a battle. I got one.

We had been working on 'the train problem.' Everybody hates those for they go like this: A train leaves Paddington Station going westbound at 50 miles per hour. At the same time another train leaves Bath heading east at 40 miles per hour. The track from Bath to London is 115 miles long. How long will it take for the trains to pass each other assuming that neither train stops along the way and maintains constant speed?

The problem type can use trains, buses, planes, rocket ships, anything that moves; even the hare and the tortoise. The kids hated these and since there are at least three methods to solve and it can get confusing. But it was the classic rate and time problem.

The thing was to get the students to think about how they can take the facts; speeds, distances, and time, and arrange them logically into equations. The most direct way is to add the speeds of the trains, giving the relative speed and then divide by the distance. Of course the answer is just under 47 minutes.

Derrick Platt stood drooping at the board while Harper hung over him like a raptor about to swoop on a rabbit. "But Miss Glasson said…" he squeaked.

"I don't care what she said. This is the way…" Harper yelled at him. Her hand flung out at scribbled notes on the board done in her hand; some table of what looked to me like the outmoded estimator-iteration method; what one of my professors called 'if in doubt guess.'

"Mrs. Harper?" I said as firmly as possible. "What is all this?"

Penny turned her angry face my way. "Oh! Here at last!" She cocked a hip and planted a fleshy hand on it. "Honestly! Late!"

I put my satchel and handbag and the desk and stripped off my coat. "I told Mrs. Pickles I had a doctor's appointment last week. You saw the note, for you initialed it. I thought the school temp would be here. Where is Mr. Rand by the way?" Rand was a semi-retired teacher who worked as our fill-in; a nice man if a bit dotty. I always set out worksheets for my students for him, but I'd not expected the Harpie to have swooped in.

Mrs. Harper puffed herself up. "Mr. Rand no longer works here so I have stepped in! In your absence!"

That took me aback. Mr. Rand was sweet and unassuming; a bent-over man of seventy who retired long ago. "He's gone?"

"Yesterday, if you'd not heard," she sniffed then turned her attention to Derrick who stood trembling, staring at the chalk in his hand like he'd never seen chalk and had no idea what to do with it. Trust Harper to pick one of my worst students.

"Now, young man," she said to him with venom, "continue your twaddle."

"Mrs. Harper! There is no need to pick on Derrick," I whispered and her entire manner changed. "If you have a problem with me then say so."

"Oh right… I forgot," she said in a syrupy voice. "Miss Glasson is teaching. Excuse me." She snatched the chalk out of Derrick's hand and slapped it into mine. "I shall leave," she said imperiously, "and leave you to it."

Her quick exit left a very startled and upset class looking from me to the door and back. I shook my head. "Ok class, since Mrs. Harper was so good to review you…" I looked over at Derrick. "Take your seat Derrick."

"Yes, Miss," he said, lip trembling. "I was doing it right."

"I know you were." I smiled at the class and tried to slow my thumping heart. "Good. Now." I cleared my throat and erased the confusing scribbles Harper had left on the board. "Let's review all the methods to solve these sorts."

I got into full teacher mode, reviewed what I'd taught (and the kids did know it), and had two pairs of students go up to the board and work in teams to solve some problems. That gave me a chance to sit at my desk and try to get myself together.

It almost was like she had set me up. Mr. Rand would have had the kids do the work sheets and that would have been that. But clearly… things were afoot, as the famous detective would say.

I looked towards the hallway feeling rather how a soldier might feel under fire.

"Miss Glasson?" Tricia said from the board. "Is this right?" she pointed to the answer that she and Billy had derived on the board.

I smiled at her. "Yes it is. Perfectly. Good work."

My class was watching the clock which was nearing the hour. "Right. Let's clear away for the next lot."

I'd been asked to stay calm – reduce my stress levels. I watched as the kids switched rooms as they went to history and the next batch came in. Here we shipped the kids from room to room so I was facing my next maths lot.

"Morning Miss Glasson," they told me, seemingly ready to learn.

If only I was ready to teach.

I did the best I could, going over the material, collecting homework, answering questions, but in the back of my mind, I felt like a sandcastle on the beach about to pummeled by a very large wave. Bit by bit my underpinnings crumbled that day as my heart beat far too quickly and more than once I saw spots before my eyes.

The ocean now seemed very far away but I felt the need to feel seawater on my bare toes even if the water would be ice cold.

Notes:

Haven't we all worked for a boss that was a total waste of oxygen? I did once upon a time.

"No! NOOO! You're doing it wrong!" is a direct quote from that person. Of course they were wrong, really, really wrong...