But it had.
The sun came up and the children were dressed for school. But their mother wasn't taking them that day. The balance of the hurried morning race had been altered. Mary Kay watched the clock, and as it moved closer to 9:05 she knew just how different her world was about to become. She wasn't going back to Shorewood Elementary. She thought of her class back in room 39. The children had left HHH the day before, never to see their teacher again.
“I tried to put my heart out to each one of them,” she said later. “I imagined myself in front of the class, the clock, the bulletin boards, and their faces. I went around the room looking into their faces, each one, sending them an angel of peace to let them know it would be all right and I hadn't forgotten them.”
The baby would be ultimate proof, of course, and Vili Fualaau's statement was on record about the sexual relationship. The case wasn't a difficult one for law enforcement. But the why of it all was more elusive than in most cases. It was the papers gathered under a search warrant from Steven Letourneau, Sr., that same day that provided the greatest glimpse into what was going through Mary Kay Letourneau's mind. Steve handed over a sheaf of papers, notes scrawled on scraps, comments made on envelopes. The author was his wife, Mary Kay. But was the writer the person so many admired and loved? There were six pages of lists of song titles and the recording artists, but, oddly for a schoolteacher, names were horribly misspelled. “Maria Carle—You 'll always be a part of Me; Witney—I'll ALWAYS LOVE YOU; Dion Warwick—That's what friends are for.”
The downward spiral that had begun so many months ago had quickened its pace as indicated by the coherency of the writings. Her handwriting was erratic; and her thoughts reflected a woman falling apart. Mary Letourneau found herself falling faster and faster toward the point of no return. She wrote of attending a late-fall family wedding in Chicago, dancing with her father, and thinking of Vili. Steve had called the Schmitz home before Mary's arrival and warned them that their daughter was headed toward big trouble. He refused to elaborate, telling them it was something she had to tell them herself.
When she returned she made some notes in her journal, but then the neat handwriting had started to reveal the stress of the author. Her words were ruptured, the edits were careless, the phrasing typical of a schoolgirl:
“So I told my mother and father everything! I told them about he baby. I told them about you even that you are under age (not exactly how young—I think they think you're about 15).”
She wrote how after she told her father that Vili was one of her students, he said he remembered the boy. Mary gushed how “my mom acted like she likes everything about you… ”
But according to the notes, Mary and John Schmitz were also worried. They warned their daughter that she could be in “big trouble” if someone found out. Her letter continued:
“… promise on your life not to ever ever no matter how someone questions you to ever tell about us—not even a kiss can be told… ”
Other notes were revealing, too. Among them was the briefest communication, but fifteen words, that suggested a dynamic not considered.
He had written:
“Who said you can put your Legs Raped around ME.”
Mary's note back:
“I was just getting comfortable.”
If either cop or husband had taken a moment to really assess what was going on between teacher and student, they might have found a clue in the smallest exchange—not in the obvious spelling mistake of “Raped” instead of “Wrapped.” The note had been written when speaking was not advisable. More than likely when Steve was asleep in the bedroom and Mary and Vili were camped out on the couch watching videos. She was trying to snuggle and fantasize about a future with Vili. And yet she was apologizing for wanting to be close him; Vili was telling her to back off. Not because he didn't want to have sex with her, but maybe he just didn't want the closeness for which she had longed.
Who had been in control of the relationship? For those who bothered to consider the tiny note, a different scenario was possible. Vili Fualaau was in charge. Other missives and writings indicated that Vili called Mary when he wanted sex. He allowed her to see him when it was convenient and didn't interfere with hanging out with his buddies or the young girls he preferred.
Mary Kay had wanted love and attention. She could only have Vili's attention when he gave his permission.
In another note she wrote:
“I see and feel you wanting me to fill in for the sex you're not getting from your school girlfriends. That's not why I'm in your life. Don't call me ever to be a fill in.”
She was functioning like a junior high girl writing lists and making plans for a fairy-tale future. They were a reincarnated love. She worried about getting his mother's permission to see him; her parents' support when she needed it. She was a girl in love with a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. A favorite song asked the question: