Old Miss Gracing by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 8
When he woke the next morning Zeke had a suspicion that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant day, so he stayed in bed and stared at the ceiling cracks. After his mother woke him, he silently dragged his way through breakfast and dressed for school. He went to the door and put his hand on the knob, half hoping he could sort of sneak out and make the trip by himself.
His mother saw him and said; “Just a minute,” as she put on her shoes, a light jacket and her wedding ring. Zeke plaintively asked; “Mom, are you going to start up with Miss Gracing?”
“Of course I’m not going to ‘start up.’ We’re just going to have to come to some kind of understanding.” Her tone was that of someone anxious to get on with something she looked forward to.
Zeke heard the reassuring words, but saw the contradictory anger and determination in his mother’s eyes. He trudged off with her to the school yard gate silently. He was thinking of what bad things could happen and why did the whole nonsense have to be, in the first place. Mom was prepared to fence off her territory, which she saw as him.
Mom curtly said; “Where is Miss Gracing?”
“I don’t see her.”
She pointed at a female teacher in the middle of the school yard, near the building and said; “Is that her?”
It wasn’t and he said; “No,” at the same time considering saying “No” if and when Miss Gracing did show up, but decided to be truthful primarily because he realized that if his mother couldn’t locate Miss Gracing out here, she would probably follow everyone into class and do her routine with his fellow students in the audience. That would be just great. He’d wind up with everyone’s sympathy, joking comments, or wryly smiling looks.
He hoped that Miss Gracing would make her presence clear and she did. Worst of all, he thought that it seemed inescapable that today’s confrontation would drive another wedge between him and his friend, maybe the last one.
Zeke pointed at her coming out of the building and descending the fire escape. Her free gray hair was doing its usual dance in the gentle breeze, as did the lightweight white sheer dress. Her open waist length light blue jacket managed to defy the wind god completely. “That’s her now,” he said. He started to walk the 50 feet to the fire escape and his mother followed.
“Miss Gracing,” he sadly said.
“Good morning, Zeke.”
“Here’s my mother again and she wants to talk to you about something that she insists you said to me, though I’ve told her that you didn’t.”
Miss Gracing immediately knew that something contentious was on the way, but didn’t know exactly what that might be, unless Momma could read her thoughts. She extended her right hand to Zeke’s mom and said; “Good morning. I should say that I’m Eloise Gracing.”
Mom hesitantly shook her hand briefly and said; “I’m Mrs.
Carmichael. Zeke, why don’t you go play with some of your friends for a while?”
Zeke heard the contradictions, but didn’t bother to point out that she was chasing him away from his best friend and that if you eliminated her, the word should be singular, not plural.
Zeke saw Robert and went to him saying; “Robert, I think I’m in trouble today. My mother’s talking to my teacher.”
Robert said; “Did your teacher call her in?”
“No. I told my mother something Miss Gracing said and she heard it some other way.”
“Little man, you are most definitely in trouble. No matter what happens, one of them is going to be very unhappy with you and if you don’t have some luck, both of them will be.”
Zeke said; “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Miss Gracing said; “What can I do for you?”
Mrs. Carmichael got right to her point; “Are you encouraging my son to play games, rather than do a real job?”
“I’m encouraging him to do both.”
“I think that it’s enough for him to be preparing for a paying job. He can think about games and daydreams when he has free time.”
“I was merely suggesting that ideally one’s game becomes one’s job.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t yet met anyone around here whose job is anything like a game. And I wish that you’d try not to give him unrealistic expectations.”
Miss Gracing surmised that there was no point in pursuing this line of conversation because it had been bent into a circle, perhaps one of the circles of hell. She hoped that Zeke was encouraged to think differently, but saw that this was not likely to be generated at home. She again thought about the fun they could have on a long train ride. This had already been dismissed as a possibility, because if they got caught, she’d wind up in a mental institution or perhaps, even jail. She said; “I’ll focus on more of the basket making activity. I understand there are a number of employers in the area requiring skills of that sort.”
Considering herself properly insulted, Mrs. Carmichael replied; “What do you mean ‘of that sort’?”
“Of that type, if you prefer. Or, of that predilection.
Or, of that kind. Or, of any other comparable word you feel comfortable with.” She reached into her handbag as she felt some kind of anger overtake her and grabbed the handle of her scissors and showed it briefly to Mrs. Carmichael for effect, then moved it away, in order to retrieve her papers and a pen.
Mrs. Carmichael flinched, to Miss Gracing’s delight. She wrote something on one of her papers and said; “For future reference, I’m making note of your wishes, with the intent of following them to the fullest.” She could have added; “Insofar as I understand them, which is nil,” but wanted to close off the conversation as soon as possible.
Mrs. Carmichael was intimidated on at least two levels and responded in a way she hoped would not reveal that. She said;
“You see to it that you do that.” She turned around and briskly walked to the gate, feeling that somehow she had not accomplished her purpose. She thought; “Next time I’ll bring a f**k*** pistol; and then we’ll find out who’s smarter.” She didn’t realize that, for once, she was absolutely correct.
Zeke saw the end of the joust and said to Robert; “I’ll soon find out how much misery I’m going to be getting. I know one thing. I am never again going to tell my parents anything
about Miss Gracing and our conversations, assuming she still talks to me.”
Robert said; “That’s what my big brother tells me. Don’t ever tell one female about another.”
They both laughed; and Zeke said; “But, what does he mean?”
Robert laughed again and said; “I really don’t know.”
The bell rang and Zeke went to the front of Miss Gracing’s line in an effort to try to gauge her mood. The things he thought he detected were a sad pitying look into his eyes, followed by a very official disinterested posture. The group efficiently marched into the classroom.
“Very curious,” he thought as he scooted to his front row seat. However, he quickly forgot what he was curious about, as that curiosity was replaced by a vision of her legs, suggesting something else, that he was not yet sure about.
She took note of the level of her admirer’s eyes, liked the feeling and adjusted herself on the seat to be a bit more revealing. This was real power.
The day went on kind of normally, for most of the course.
However at 2:15, with only an hour left to the school day, in the middle of the roller ball game, Zeke couldn’t contain himself any longer, broke out of the circle and approached Miss Gracing. She was sitting at her desk disinterestedly reading Steinbeck’s “East of Eden.”
He blurted out; “I’m never again going to tell my mother anything you say.”
Somewhat startled, Miss Gracing put down her book, looked curiously at Zeke and said; “I think you’re sincere, but I also think that it would be unavoidable to not say some things.”
Zeke said; “Betcha.”
She replied; “Okay, I’ll take your word,” though she really knew better. Her dislike of the professional housewife, mother and control freak took over, so she continued; “The only thing I was trying to say, anyway, was that you shouldn’t limit yourself to the experiences and opinions of people who live here.
There’s a gigantic world beyond Bayonne, NJ, with a lot of different interesting things in it.”
Zeke said; “A lot of farms and horse manure.”
Miss Gracing correctly diagnosed the source of that response and rather than directly arguing the issue said; “Oh, there’s plenty of that, but believe it or not, there are a few other things.” She got up from her seat and grabbed Zeke by the hand and led him back to his place in the circle and said, laughingly; “Who said you could quit playing ball?”
He liked the conversation and would continue to think about what she said for quite some time, happy that she still chose to talk to him. He took his place as one of the bodies which
formed a circle without the ball coming his way the duration of the day.
When he got home, he feigned cheerfulness and when asked about what he did and learned today said; “I learned that I’ve got to pick a better spot for roller ball.” He laughed and so did his mother, though she also wondered if this was the start of some new tactic designed to keep her in the dark.
Miss Gracing also entertained a new mindset. While her heart went out to some of the defeatism she inferred from the kids’ commentaries about things, she didn’t know how to transform that into a much needed positive for them or herself.
She previously fancied herself an excellent teacher, but now failure was coming to mind. She wondered if she had gotten so old that her knowledge no longer applied to what was most relevant today. She took her own advice and decided, “You can’t think like that.” As a child she assumed everyone lived more or less like her. She now felt blessed to have been privileged.
She was encouraged to go wherever her mind could take her. In 1918, when very few girls did such things she went to college, eventually obtaining degrees in English and Teaching.
She removed her clothes and looked at herself in the mirror, this time taking critical note of the effects of time.
She concluded that no disaster had yet occurred and that, at the very least, there was time for another accomplishment. She got
into bed and as she drifted off to her customary nap with Simon.
She thought of the old days, how much she’d like to go back there and hoped she would dream about it. Maybe she’d find something long forgotten.