Chapter Six: A Friend in Need

I was organizing my desk and putting papers to grade into my satchel when someone knocked on the door to my classroom. Mr. Moody was standing there. I swear, the man never smiled, and this afternoon he looked at me intensely. If I didn't know any better, I would've believed I'd done something wrong.

"Miss Berrie, may I have a word with you?"

My breath hitched. Since interviewing me to complete my final internship here, Mr. Moody had barely spoken to me. It wasn't just me though. He was a relatively quiet man and I never saw him talking to anyone. The fact he had walked all the way down to the last hall to find me had me worried.

"Is there anything wrong?" I asked, adding a nervous smile.

"That all depends upon your answer," he told me softly. "News has been brought before the school board. Bad news I'm afraid, which concerns you."

Mr. Moody paused at that moment as if he was waiting on me to say something. The trouble was, I didn't know what to say! Mainly because I didn't know what he was talking about! "I'm sorry," I said in a way to reveal my confusion. "You're going to have to explain."

"An anonymous citizen has informed the school board that apparently, there is a warrant out for your arrest. It's been issued from Haggard County, which is where you're originally from, am I correct?"

I was aware my mouth had dropped open and it stayed that way for several seconds. I was in complete shock! "A warrant!" I repeated. "For what?"

Mr. Moody stepped further inside and glanced about the room I'd been assigned. The teacher who was mentoring me had given me full reign, and I had taken the opportunity to display student work, and even decorate a little. I had created a comfortable space for me and my students, though it was doing very little to help me at the moment. Why wasn't he answering me?

"I've heard good things about you from the students as well as their parents," he admitted gently as he strolled about leisurely. "I'm sorry to say the complaint concerns manslaughter. Now, do you have anything to say about that?"

Once more I was stupefied and I reached out to grab hold of my chair before dropping myself down into it.

"There never were any charges filed," I managed to blubber out as my mind raced. What had happened? Who was responsible for this?

"I do hope you're correct, Miss Berrie. The School Board is having a fit over their children being exposed to someone…well, let's just say imperfect."

"It was involuntary…" I explained softly. All my energy had vanished and I was suddenly sick to my stomach. "But nothing was ever filed! I'm telling the truth, Mr. Moody! How would I have even been admitted to the teaching program?"

"I don't know the answers, Miss Berrie," he explained. "But until such a time as this matter is cleared up, you are suspended from your internship. I am sorry."

By the end of my day, I was worn out. I'd changed two flat tires, handed out three speeding tickets, and one parking ticket, as well as helped Dennis get off the park bench and back home. Every small town seemed to have an unfortunate alcoholic and Dennis was ours. I always went easy on him though and tried to help him since he was a veteran. I could easily be in his place if I continued to harbor these bad memories and grudges from my past.

Tonight was counseling and I was actually looking forward to it. Lately, I'd been feeling rather down. I was blaming it on the weather. A cool front had come in, bringing rain from across the mountains. The sun wouldn't shine for a few weeks which didn't improve my mood. I needed to take some time to listen and share my thoughts. It always helped to hear that others were feeling the same as me.

I grabbed the big bag of chips I'd purchased to bring to tonight's meeting and headed toward the church. I was right on time and walked in to enjoy friendly greetings and a warm welcome. Punch was provided, which was always too sweet to my liking and I grabbed a bottle of water instead before joining a small group of men I'd gotten to know better these past few months.

"I know, I just heard that myself," one of them was saying. I had apparently walked into the middle of a conversation.

"It's a shame," another one announced. "My youngest daughter is in her class and really likes her. I would've never believed such a kind lady could capable of something like that! She doesn't look like the type."

I had to ask. "What's up, guys? What are you talking about?"

They looked at one another I suppose to see who was going to be the informant before Thomas opened up. "Miss Berrie," he told me, which immediately piqued my interest. "The school board suspended her internship."

"Why?" I urged, trying to hurry him up.

"Something about a warrant for her arrest. Manslaughter, apparently."

I stared at the man as if he were speaking a foreign language. "Are you sure?"

"That's what the minister told me this morning."

"Well, then it has to be true if the minister said so," another man chuckled.

Each one of us nodded in agreement to the sarcasm in his voice. Father Garrison was one of the biggest gossips in town. The news, therefore, was unreliable. Even so, I was determined to find out the truth. If there was any truth in it at all! For the time being, I decided to put it out of my mind.

Halfway through the meeting, however, as one man was sharing his harrowing tale of being captured behind enemy lines – for the third time mind you - I noticed I was having trouble focusing. I needed to find out what was going on with Miss Berrie. I couldn't wait any longer and excused myself early.

After a few knocks on the door to her rented room, I gave up and went back downstairs to speak with Mrs. Delaney, the landlord. She informed me Miss Berrie went out for the evening.

"Was she carrying any luggage with her?" I asked. Surely, she hadn't left this quickly. I hoped she hadn't. I needed to know what was going on first!

"Luggage? Why, no. Of course not," she told me. "She still has eight more weeks left in her internship."

"That's right," I replied, realizing the older woman obviously hadn't heard the rumors. "Thank you, ma'am."

I tried to put myself in Ami's shoes. She hadn't left town and she was here all alone. The café was closed. Where would she go?

I drove by the library, only to find it dark and locked up tight. Most of the other businesses in town were closing as well. The only opportunities left were the local pubs. There was one on Main Street, but I ventured to believe she would most likely not want to be around the parents of her students.

Another possibility was the bar out on the highway. It was open late and was dark and gloomy. A perfect place to hide out and drown your sorrows.

Indeed, after I arrived, I discovered her tucked inside a booth in the corner. She was alone and before her on the table sat a tall glass of beer, which had barely been touched. I was pleased to see she wasn't intoxicated. At least not yet.

I had to tell her good evening twice before she lifted her head and noticed my presence. Her mind was definitely wandering.

"What are you doing here?" she asked me bluntly.

"Mind if I take a seat?"

"Of course not. Would you care for a drink? You can have mine. I've barely touched it."

"Not much of a drinker?" I asked as I sat on the edge of the cushion, far away from her.

She offered a grin although it didn't last long. "No. I haven't since the... Not since… Forget it. Here..." she said, shoving the glass toward me.

"Thanks, but I don't drink either." I smiled and ignored the glass, keeping my focus on her dark eyes, which were difficult to see in the dim lighting. "I don't want to pry, but is everything all right?"

It took her a moment to respond. "I'm not sure why I'm about to tell you this. I hardly know you, but I need to tell somebody! Since I've been here, all I've done is teach, study, and work on my term paper. It's not a good way to make friends, and I need one right now."

I got comfortable just a little bit closer to her and smiled. "I can be that for you. No strings attached. I know how important it is to share your troubles with someone who understands."

"That's kind of you," she told me with slight hesitation.

Did she really not trust me? So what if we had a difference of opinion? That didn't mean I didn't care about her. She was a human after all. I wanted to help if I could.

"But I'm not sure you could possibly understand."

I was beginning to see. Like me, she was a private person. It was difficult to open up, especially to someone you barely knew.

"Listen," I told her. "Every Thursday night, I go to the church and meet with a bunch of men and women who are suffering from PTSD. We talk about our experiences in battle, our fears, and our anxieties. It took me a long time before I was willing to share anything with them. At first, I just listened. Once I got up the courage to speak, I found it was a huge relief just to get some things out in the open. For the first time in a long while, I discovered I wasn't alone. There are people out there who are hurting and suffering far worse than I am."

She had listened intently to every word and then leaned forward while meeting my gaze.

"Okay. I'll tell you…"