Living Witness(32)

“Hello, Alice,” Ms. Marbledale said. “I recognized your voice. I expect you recognize mine.”

Alice made a face. She expects I do, does she? God, it was just like that woman.

“It’s the middle of the breakfast rush,” Alice said. “I’ve got work to do.”

“I’m sure you do have work to do,” Ms. Marbledale said. “But so do I, and we have a situation on our hands this morning. I have Barbie in my office, and both of the Cornish children.”

“Those kids should learn to leave Barbie alone,” Alice said. “If you weren’t such a secular humanist yourself, you’d see what was going on here. Those kids are persecuting my Barbie, and all the other Christian children in school. That’s what they’re doing. People like you are trying to drive all the Christians right out of school.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Then Ms. Marbledale said, “You know, Alice, I’m not interested in having this conversation, not now and not in the future. I think I heard you through at least once by now. I’m going to let it go. If you want to find out what’s going on, I suggest then you come down here and listen to me. In the meantime, Barbie will spend the day in detention. I suggest you talk this over with Lyman, Alice, because we’re getting very close to the point where the Cornishes are going to have grounds to sue.”

“Sue me?” Alice said. “I’ll sue them, bringing their atheism into the school. Trying to turn my children away from God.”

“That’s enough, Alice.”

The phone was hung up on the other end of the line, and Alice found herself staring at the receiver still in her hand. She put it back into its cradle. It wasn’t hard to remember what it had been like to be in school when she was Barbie’s age or even older. Alice thought she had never hated anything as much as she’d hated school, and that had not been her fault. There were people who had called her stupid, but she wasn’t stupid. She just didn’t like being in there among the snots and the snobs, the little crapola people who thought they were just so wonderful because they read stupid books that no sensible person would ever want to read. Alice wasn’t even sure she believed they read them. They just liked to make fun of people, those people did. At least, in her day, they didn’t make fun of people for believing in God.

“It was better when we were going to school,” Alice said out loud.

Lyman turned to look at her. While she had been on the phone with Ms. Marbledale, Lyman had gone back to the grill. He was now standing in front of a huge pile of breakfast sausages and a long line of white stoneware plates.

“That was Ms. Marbledale who called,” Alice said. “I’ve got to go over to the school.”

“Now?” Lyman looked startled. “We’re full up. Is Barbie hurt?”

“I don’t know.” This was true. Ms. Marbledale hadn’t been clear about what exactly had happened, so Alice had no way of knowing if she’d been hurt or not. If Barbie had been hurt, Alice thought she had grounds for a lawsuit herself. She could sue the school for religious discrimination.

“It was better when we were in school,” Alice said, before Lyman had a chance to go back to his sausages. “I don’t mean it was good. It was just better. There wasn’t all of this stuff around. I never learned about Darwin in school, did you?”

“That might have been later,” Lyman said. “Or it might have been in the college course. I wasn’t in the college course.”

“I don’t understand why she thinks she can talk to me that way,” Alice said. “I’m her boss, no matter how much she doesn’t like it. Me and Franklin Hale are her boss. She ought to have sense enough to be afraid of us.”

“Do you have to go over right now?” Lyman asked. “I’m up to my neck. Can’t it wait half an hour?”

“No,” Alice said. She didn’t know if that was true. The way Ms. Marbledale had talked, it might have been okay to let it go all day. It was only detention. Alice had spent a lot of time in detention when she was in school, and staying after, too, because teachers thought their work was the only thing that ought to count in your life.

“It isn’t fair,” Alice said. She had moved through the kitchen to the vestibule in the back. She was standing next to the little rack where she and Lyman and the girls who worked the floor all hung their coats.

As far as Alice McGuffie was concerned, nothing about life was fair. All the good things went to people like Ms. Marbledale. No matter how long your walk with God was, you could never catch up to the Ms. Marbledales of this world, and the Annie-Vic Hadleys were worse. They all thought they were better than you. They all thought they were smarter than you. They all looked down their noses at you and sneered, and what for? Because you believed in God, that was what for, and they thought only stupid people believed in God.