“Good boy.”
“I’m going home,” he announced. He started to walk away but turned back to me and said, “Edgar Allan Poe. You should read more.”
I couldn’t help making a face. “I probably read ‘The Raven’ before you were born.”
He stopped. “Then you may be of some use to me,” he said. “Maybe.” And then he continued on his way.
I kissed my teeth and went inside. I immediately stepped out of my dress and took it to the sink. The dress was a gift from a dear old friend. In his attempt to get at me, Mr. Addison had knocked over a bottle of Merlot that I had ordered. Having had the entire night to set and dry, the stain refused to come out. So I threw the dress onto one of the unpacked suitcases that lay strewn about my living room.
I contemplated calling my mother, but I couldn’t bear to hear the disappointment in her voice when she found out that I had blown yet another, and possibly my last, chance. She worried about me far more than was healthy for someone with a blood pressure of 160 over 100.
When prostate cancer took my father, we lost everything. We lost the houses and the cars. I lost my opportunity to get my master’s degree and eventually even my job.
That night, as I waited for sleep to arrive, I wondered if I should have just let Addison have his way. I wondered if I was too naïve and too soft for this world. Father had always said so, never in a harsh manner, but when I look back now, with a sort of remorse. Perhaps he knew how I was to end up. Father always knew.
I got up, dug into one of my suitcases, pulled out a bottle of red wine, downed a glass or two, and returned to my bed.
2
THE TEN-MINUTE WALK FROM MY HOUSE TO Lighthouse Academy would have been pleasant on any other day. It was a slow descent into a valley and up a gentle slope to the crest of another ridge. The road was shaded by tall and ancient-looking trees. In places, their canopies had merged to form arches. But as I walked through the chilly dawn air, only thoughts of my imminent sacking occupied my mind. Addison was going to have it done, if he couldn’t do it himself.
The reporting time was at seven o’clock, but I was there at half past six. Mr. Addison had already given me a tour, so I knew where the staff common room was and which wooden table and chair was mine. I set my water bottle down on the desk and took a seat. I started to flip through the syllabus while I waited for the other teachers to show up. The first one arrived fifteen minutes past eight.
“Wow!” he exclaimed the moment he walked in. He was tall and reasonably good looking. He had his first button opened and his cuffs folded upwards. Unfortunately, he reeked of cockiness.
I gave him a wave and a smile.
He approached my desk and extended his hand. “You must be the new English teacher.”
I rose and took his hand. “Yes, I am. My name is Desire Mensah.”
“I’m Gerald Amponsah. But you call me Gerald, okay. You’re very pretty.”
“Thank you, Gerald. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, and sat.
“It’s my pleasure,” he said licking his lips. “Desire ampa.”
I smiled with my lips only and looked down at my books.
But he sat on the edge of my desk and crossed his legs. “So, you’re from Accra, I hear.” He opened his bag and brought out a sachet of yogurt, bit the edge off, spat it out onto the floor, and proceeded to drink. Beads of condensed water dropped on my desk and books.
“Yes, I am,” I said, slowly.
“And you were a teacher there?”
“Yes, I taught at Cantonments International School.”
“Wow! CIS paah. So why did you leave?” He was chewing noisily on the frozen yogurt through the sachet now.
“The school board and I didn’t see eye to eye on certain issues.”
“What issues?”
I almost sighed out loud.
Fortunately, the door opened and in walked two people. One was a lanky, stern-looking man and the other an even sterner-looking woman. I recognized the man from my interview; he was the HR. The woman was new to me. She looked masculine, with her natural hair shaved low, square shoulders, and severe expression. I wondered if these were my executioners.
“Mr. Gyamfi!” exclaimed Gerald, jumping up off my desk and wiping his wet palms on his trousers. “Good morning.”
Mr. Gyamfi’s eyes roamed about the room. “Morning, Gerald. The others are not in?”
“No, sir. It’s just me, sir. Me and Miss Mensah.”
Mr. Gyamfi’s gaze fixed itself on me. “Ah, Miss Mensah. How are you settling in?”
I stepped forward and shook his hand. “Just fine, sir.” I nodded in the direction of the woman, but her hard and set expression remained unchanged.
“Good,” he said. “Anyway, Mr. Addison unfortunately suffered a heart attack on Saturday night, if you haven’t heard already.”
Gerald covered his mouth. “Ow!”
My heart started to pound through my ears.
“Yes, it’s unfortunate. So he has to go on immediate retirement. It’s overdue anyway.” He turned to the woman beside him. “So the school board has selected Mrs. Providencia Anaglate here to take over as headmistress.”
The woman nodded.
“You’re welcome, madam,” said Gerald, shaking her hand.
The disdain in the woman’s eyes was evident as she observed Gerald from behind her bifocals. After a moment, she said, “Thank you.” She then glanced at her wristwatch. “It’s half past eight, right?”
“Yes, it is, madam,” said Gerald, oblivious to what she actually meant.
Providencia Anaglate then made it clear to him. “We’ll fix the tardiness. Anyway, that will be all for now. Nice to meet you, Mr. Gerald, and welcome, Miss Mensah.” I was too nervous to speak, so I just shook her hand as well. Her grip was firm. “I hope you enjoy working here.”
I mumbled my thanks as they left the room.
Gerald turned to me and started to talk, but I didn’t hear a thing he said. The relief was incredible. I found myself grinning.
“. . . it happens to you too, eh?” Gerald said, and laughed.
He hadn’t noticed my mind was elsewhere. My grin turned into laughter, and I nodded in agreement to whatever he had said.
“Can I drink some of your water?” he asked, his eyes on my water bottle.
I smiled and shook my head.
The other teachers
