41 years later....
James finished writing the assignment for the next class period on the board and turned to survey the current batch of – for the most part – eager learners. They were finishing up a three question quiz he'd devised to make sure they'd read the assignment: a breeze for this group. James loved to teach smart kids.
"When you're finished, bring them up to my desk," he said. A few of them were already done and did so immediately. James was left with the happy knowledge that they wouldn't chat until everyone was finished.
He looked over his desk, but nothing required his attention, so he was left without occupation until everyone finished. Janet would take the longest, he knew – the girl was a voracious writer and usually filled in more information than was strictly necessary, even on these insignificant quizzes.
His thoughts wandered in the direction they'd often gone lately. Ti'aeva Winters had been the object of his admiration since she'd arrived at the school. Funny, he mused. He'd never cared much for Drama teachers before her appearance.
At last Janet finished, and James put his thought back where they belonged, in the classroom. "Everyone finished?" he asked redundantly.
"You know I was the last to finish, Dr. Redbourne," Janet said with a grin.
"I don't like to make presumptions. Someone else might have tried to out-do you this once." That raised a chuckle. He reached for the stack of quizzed, picked them up and tapped them against his desk to straighten them, then storing them away. It amused the students and staff alike that his desk was always bare of all but a few knick-knacks, the rest of his work being stored away in a place only he could reach. He turned to business. "Someone give me their impression of the assigned reading."
Colin Fairbank raised a hand and waited for James's nod. "I never was able to sympathize with the south before this. I still don't think they were right, and while I really don't think that everything was the way it was depicted, I at least understand some of them a little better."
"Who do you mean when you say 'them'?" James pressed.
"The slave owners," Colin answered promptly. "Some of them really treated their slaves badly. Some of them – well, it seems to me that they were blind to their own contradictions of thought. Like Lutie thinking that slaves couldn't take care of themselves, except Di-Peachy and Sin-Sin. It was like..." Colin paused to search for an appropriate simile, and Janet jumped in.
"It was like she had caged birds. Like she assumed that tropical birds wouldn't be able to care for themselves, but she had a few sparrows that she would feel okay releasing. She cared about them but... maybe she didn't really understand them."
"I think she understood them," Violet Maison, a girl with large eyes and dark hair, argued. "I don't know that she understood the larger issues, or slavery in general, but as far as her own slaves were concerned, I think she did understand them – she knew them pretty well."
Nobody else commented, so James asked, "Why do you think slaves would have fought for the South?"
There was a pause, then Andrew Thompson volunteered. "I think they didn't really understand the issues. The ones who would have fought would be the ones like we read about. They really actually cared about their masters. They thought the North just wanted to ruin their way of life, and be in control of how the people in the South lived."
"They didn't want their masters to have masters," Colin said, and the class laughed.
There was a knock at the door, and Professor McCoy stuck his head in the doorway. James was surprised; as a rule he didn't like interruptions, but Hank McCoy was hardly a typical messenger.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt your class, James," McCoy said with his typical politeness. "There's a phone call for you."
James frowned. "It can't wait?"
McCoy cleared his through awkwardly. "It's from a Mr. LaMotte. He seemed to feel very strongly that you would want to take the call right away."
At the name LaMotte, James felt the blood drain from his face. It was a good thing he was leaning against his desk, because he suddenly felt quite weak in the knees.
"Of... of course," he managed. There was only one reason Gregory LaMotte would be calling at this time. "I'll be right there." He took a deep, steadying breath. "Class, you have the unusual luck of being dismissed only a few minutes into our session. Feel free to discuss the reading on your own – just make sure you get the assignment for next time finished."
The class was buzzing by the time he reached the door.
He hurried through the mostly empty hallways to his office, where he closed the door behind him.
He picked up the line. "This is James Redbourne."
"Hello, James." Mr. LaMotte's voice was calm. "I don't really know how to say this, after all this time.... You probably know why I'm calling, anyway."
"She's there." His breath went out in a rush.
"Alice and I were sitting in the dining room, when we heard a crash and a scream from upstairs. We both knew right away. Nothing else it could be."
James brushed a hand through his hair. He'd been waiting for so long, and though he'd never given up hope, he could scarcely believe it had finally happened. "How is she?"
There were muffled voices on the other end, then Mr. LaMotte answered. "She's pretty shook up. Needs something familiar, I'd say. I'm gonna put her on the phone."
There was a pause, and then a voice James hadn't heard in years. "Jamie?"
"It's me, Ruby."
"You don't sound like you." Her voice was tremulous, confused.
He closed his eyes. "Ruby, it'll be okay. I'm a couple hours away – "
"Jamie, where are Mom and Dad? They were here just a minute ago."
"I'll explain everything, Ruby." He thought rapidly. "I'll be there as quick as I can, all right?" He waited for her to reply.
"Okay. But – "
"Just hang on. This... will be a lot easier to do in person."
"But – "
"Please, Ruby, please trust me. I'll be there as fast as I can. Okay?"
"Okay," she said slowly.
"All right. I've gotta go. The LaMottes are good people, so if you need anything, let them know. I'll be there before seven."
"But it's already..." she trailed off and was silent.
"Don't worry about it yet, Ruby. I'm so glad you're back. I'll be there soon. I love you, sis."
"I love you too." Her response sounded automated.
"Bye. I'll be there soon. Bye."
"Bye."
He was trying to figure out the fastest route to take and almost bumped into Professor Xavier on his way out.
"I think we can get you there a little faster than that." The Professor smiled, and James smiled back in astonishment. "Shall we?"
James nodded and followed the Professor.
James finished writing the assignment for the next class period on the board and turned to survey the current batch of – for the most part – eager learners. They were finishing up a three question quiz he'd devised to make sure they'd read the assignment: a breeze for this group. James loved to teach smart kids.
"When you're finished, bring them up to my desk," he said. A few of them were already done and did so immediately. James was left with the happy knowledge that they wouldn't chat until everyone was finished.
He looked over his desk, but nothing required his attention, so he was left without occupation until everyone finished. Janet would take the longest, he knew – the girl was a voracious writer and usually filled in more information than was strictly necessary, even on these insignificant quizzes.
His thoughts wandered in the direction they'd often gone lately. Ti'aeva Winters had been the object of his admiration since she'd arrived at the school. Funny, he mused. He'd never cared much for Drama teachers before her appearance.
At last Janet finished, and James put his thought back where they belonged, in the classroom. "Everyone finished?" he asked redundantly.
"You know I was the last to finish, Dr. Redbourne," Janet said with a grin.
"I don't like to make presumptions. Someone else might have tried to out-do you this once." That raised a chuckle. He reached for the stack of quizzed, picked them up and tapped them against his desk to straighten them, then storing them away. It amused the students and staff alike that his desk was always bare of all but a few knick-knacks, the rest of his work being stored away in a place only he could reach. He turned to business. "Someone give me their impression of the assigned reading."
Colin Fairbank raised a hand and waited for James's nod. "I never was able to sympathize with the south before this. I still don't think they were right, and while I really don't think that everything was the way it was depicted, I at least understand some of them a little better."
"Who do you mean when you say 'them'?" James pressed.
"The slave owners," Colin answered promptly. "Some of them really treated their slaves badly. Some of them – well, it seems to me that they were blind to their own contradictions of thought. Like Lutie thinking that slaves couldn't take care of themselves, except Di-Peachy and Sin-Sin. It was like..." Colin paused to search for an appropriate simile, and Janet jumped in.
"It was like she had caged birds. Like she assumed that tropical birds wouldn't be able to care for themselves, but she had a few sparrows that she would feel okay releasing. She cared about them but... maybe she didn't really understand them."
"I think she understood them," Violet Maison, a girl with large eyes and dark hair, argued. "I don't know that she understood the larger issues, or slavery in general, but as far as her own slaves were concerned, I think she did understand them – she knew them pretty well."
Nobody else commented, so James asked, "Why do you think slaves would have fought for the South?"
There was a pause, then Andrew Thompson volunteered. "I think they didn't really understand the issues. The ones who would have fought would be the ones like we read about. They really actually cared about their masters. They thought the North just wanted to ruin their way of life, and be in control of how the people in the South lived."
"They didn't want their masters to have masters," Colin said, and the class laughed.
There was a knock at the door, and Professor McCoy stuck his head in the doorway. James was surprised; as a rule he didn't like interruptions, but Hank McCoy was hardly a typical messenger.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt your class, James," McCoy said with his typical politeness. "There's a phone call for you."
James frowned. "It can't wait?"
McCoy cleared his through awkwardly. "It's from a Mr. LaMotte. He seemed to feel very strongly that you would want to take the call right away."
At the name LaMotte, James felt the blood drain from his face. It was a good thing he was leaning against his desk, because he suddenly felt quite weak in the knees.
"Of... of course," he managed. There was only one reason Gregory LaMotte would be calling at this time. "I'll be right there." He took a deep, steadying breath. "Class, you have the unusual luck of being dismissed only a few minutes into our session. Feel free to discuss the reading on your own – just make sure you get the assignment for next time finished."
The class was buzzing by the time he reached the door.
He hurried through the mostly empty hallways to his office, where he closed the door behind him.
He picked up the line. "This is James Redbourne."
"Hello, James." Mr. LaMotte's voice was calm. "I don't really know how to say this, after all this time.... You probably know why I'm calling, anyway."
"She's there." His breath went out in a rush.
"Alice and I were sitting in the dining room, when we heard a crash and a scream from upstairs. We both knew right away. Nothing else it could be."
James brushed a hand through his hair. He'd been waiting for so long, and though he'd never given up hope, he could scarcely believe it had finally happened. "How is she?"
There were muffled voices on the other end, then Mr. LaMotte answered. "She's pretty shook up. Needs something familiar, I'd say. I'm gonna put her on the phone."
There was a pause, and then a voice James hadn't heard in years. "Jamie?"
"It's me, Ruby."
"You don't sound like you." Her voice was tremulous, confused.
He closed his eyes. "Ruby, it'll be okay. I'm a couple hours away – "
"Jamie, where are Mom and Dad? They were here just a minute ago."
"I'll explain everything, Ruby." He thought rapidly. "I'll be there as quick as I can, all right?" He waited for her to reply.
"Okay. But – "
"Just hang on. This... will be a lot easier to do in person."
"But – "
"Please, Ruby, please trust me. I'll be there as fast as I can. Okay?"
"Okay," she said slowly.
"All right. I've gotta go. The LaMottes are good people, so if you need anything, let them know. I'll be there before seven."
"But it's already..." she trailed off and was silent.
"Don't worry about it yet, Ruby. I'm so glad you're back. I'll be there soon. I love you, sis."
"I love you too." Her response sounded automated.
"Bye. I'll be there soon. Bye."
"Bye."
He was trying to figure out the fastest route to take and almost bumped into Professor Xavier on his way out.
"I think we can get you there a little faster than that." The Professor smiled, and James smiled back in astonishment. "Shall we?"
James nodded and followed the Professor.