Young Writers Society

10. Mr. Davis

“I didn’t think his scars were that bad,” came the sound of Maya’s voice. “Personally, I thought they made him look yummier.”

Just shut up, I thought, squeezing my eyes shut, fighting against the waves of nausea as I leaned over the toilet. Maya was pacing outside of my cubical, annoying me with her persistent chatter about him. She had only been too glad to get out of English, happy with the excuse of comforting a friend who suddenly felt ill. Comforting! Ha! She was doing the exact opposite by talking non-stop about that man. I didn’t want to hear about him anymore. I wanted to be lying in bed, a safe distance from that evil man.

“I mean, they make him look so cute. They’re like cat whiskers, don’t you think?”

Please, just shut up.

What was he doing here? In this town? In this class? I suppose they let all sorts of people teach these days.

Even murderers.

“Oh, my God. Did you see his eyes? Ames. Ames? They were the loveliest shade of green that I’ve ever seen.”

Her voice grated on the last of my nerves.

“Maya! Shut up about him! I don’t want to hear about him any more! Just – please!”

There was silence for a few moments. She had paused, thinking about my angry outburst, unsure of what to say next. Amazingly, she hit right on the nail.

“Do you know him?”

Yes, you often do get to know a thing or two about the people who shred your family into pieces.

“Ames?”

I sat back and flushed the loo, my nausea now having passed. My body felt so heavy suddenly; so drained. I didn’t like sitting on the dirty floor, but I had no energy to move. So I sat for quite a while, gradually building up the strength that I would need so badly from now on.

When I emerged from the cubical, I saw Maya leaning against the sinks, waiting for me. She didn’t start to question me right away, just handed me her water bottle. I took a grateful mouthful, happy to wash out the horrible taste in my mouth, and handed it back to her.

She eyed it for a second and said diplomatically, “You hang on to it.”

So I did, taking another mouthful. Then I became aware of her watching me.

“Ames, who is Mr. Davis to you?”

“An awful man. I don’t know what he’s doing here teaching.”

“What did he do?”

I paused, the breath stolen from me. What did he do? Jesus, like I didn’t know. Like I didn’t have to watch my family slowly break apart. Like I didn’t have to watch my mum get thinner and thinner, whittled down by her grief. Like I didn’t have to visit Dad’s grave because of that man.

“Maya,” I started, taking a deep breath, “Remember that accident I was in when I was nine?”

She nodded. Of course she remembered; it was in the local news and newspapers for ages. It had been an event which had shaken the town. My father had been a well-known and well-liked man. To have him die so suddenly… Well, it was a wake-up call. Time for everyone to appreciate what and who they had while they still had them. But this feeling, like the news on the accident, had soon faded, and everything was back to normal again.

It was never normal again for my family.

“Well, there was a driver and a passenger. He was the passenger. The idiot driver died, but Bryce Davis walked away. Don’t you remember him? They were in the news.”

She shook her head.

Pushing out a long sigh, I glanced away, to my left, the opposite direction of Maya.

There was silence for a long moment. Then, “Gosh, Ames. What are you going to do?”

Well, wasn’t that the million-dollar question. What the hell was I going to do? Why did he have to take over my English lesson? Any other I would probably skip until the real teacher came back, but English was my favourite lesson. I couldn’t miss it.

“I suppose…” I ran a hand through my hair and sighed again. “I suppose I’m just gonna have to … deal with it.”

Maya’s eyes sparkled as she looked at me, and a wicked grin began to spread across her face. “Bet none of the other teachers know about him. Ames – we could reveal the truth! We could so totally humiliate him!”

So much for him being lush. It seemed like Maya was on my side, which I was grateful for. I wouldn’t know what I’d do if she chose him over me. I couldn’t imagine it.

“He’s probably hidden his past from the school, that’s why he’s able to teach here. So if the other teachers just happened to find out, like, say from a newspaper clipping on their desks, what would happen next would be really interesting.”

I thought about what she said, seriously considering it. He certainly deserved it. Hell, he deserved so much more. He really shouldn’t be teaching. Parents wouldn’t approve of a murderer teaching their children. So why had the school let him teach? Didn’t they know about his history? Had he hidden it from them, like Maya said? I didn’t see how he could. It wasn’t something you could easily hide. But what was he doing teaching here? Here, of all places!

“Ames?” Maya prompted, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

It would be great that the whole school would find out about him. It would be great if he could walk down the corridor and see the students staring at him, the same thought whispering in their minds.

Murderer.

It would be fantastic. He and his speeding buddy took my father from me. Nothing could ever be enough. Everyone would hate him, because everyone loved my father. As I said, he was a well-known and well-liked man. Those gossiping grannies had whispered well-deserved, horrible remarks and assumptions about Bryce Davis and his evil friend.

Those same grannies had also whispered about me as I walked past them.

Look. There she goes. That poor, little girl, Amelia. John died to save her, you know. He gave his life for hers. Let’s hope she does something with it.

“No!” I said to Maya, a little panicked. “I don’t want people to know; I don’t want them to stare.” My actions became jerky, desperate. “Maya – no one can know. I – I can deal with him. I…”

“Ames! What’s wrong?”

It was my fault. If I hadn’t of been in the car in the first place then the tree branch wouldn’t have got him. It would have just sunk harmlessly into the empty passenger seat. Dad would have been a little winded, a little bruised, but fine. Most likely. Maybe he’d have a broken bone or two, but he’d be alive. That was the main thing. If I hadn’t had been there…

“Maya, don’t tell anyone – please.” Asking Maya not to spread something as juicy as this was like asking her not to breathe. She couldn’t – she would die.

She looked startled. “Why not, Ames? He deserves it.”

I reached out and grabbed her arm. She squealed in surprise, flinching from me a little. “Please, Maya,” I begged. If you told them about him they would also know about me.

“Okay, okay. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” She eyed me curiously. “But what are you going to do?”

Like the answer wasn’t obvious.