A Most Unusual Passage
Copyright© 2026 by J&J
Chapter 7
When the elderly gentleman first addressed me by name, I was flustered and confused, although I tried hard not to show it. For a brief moment of panic I wondered how ‘they’ knew where to intercept me. It was what my English godmother called “getting your wind up.” And I just as quickly recovered when I realized that “they,” if indeed there was a “they,” could hardly have known I would be passing here, since I hadn’t known myself two minutes before.
When he identified himself as the very man I was coming to see, I had no choice but to accept that good fortune had been on my side today.
He seemed friendly, showing no animosity, so I returned my best and warmest charm, the kind a southern lady is taught from birth. To his credit and my chagrin, he gracefully accepted the honey-coating and saw right through it to the serious purpose of my outing. I was momentarily disappointed when he invited me to the restaurant for coffee, instead of to the school. But his mention of the word “privacy” reminded me that we would be the center of a great deal of curiosity and attention at the school. Obviously, his choice was a much better place for us to have the serious discussion I so desired. Already I was realizing that this old gentleman might have some things to teach me.
Walking down the street, I chattered about nothing in particular, while I decided how much or how little to tell this man, a stranger after all. But my instincts put him about a full species above the like of Everett. An impression reinforced when he had the courtesy to hold the door.
On the other hand, he introduced me to Hazel, owner of the restaurant and just kept right on going, as if I were supposed to just wave at her or nod. Well, of course, I wasn’t about to be so rude to the very first woman I met in Otis. So I left Marcus to cool his heels a moment, while I complimented her on the décor. In truth it wasn’t anything extraordinary but she kept it neat and clean, and the linen table clothes were crisply ironed. And she beamed at the compliment, probably the first she had heard in years in this place.
We ordered some beverages, and Marcus seemed amused when I explained how southern sweet tea could induce instant diabetic coma in the uninitiated. I would have told him how the best came from the Piggly Wiggly but I didn’t want to take the time that it inevitably takes to convince anyone not from the South, that we actually have grocery stores called Piggly Wiggly.
After Hazel left and we were alone, I waited for him to serve the first volley. It was his home court after all.
His first words took a huge load off me. It was apparent that the idea of retirement wasn’t unattractive to him, and he apparently bore me no ill will.
His next words upset me, when it was apparent that he also smelled a rat and had no more idea what was going on than I did. Despite all my training at hiding emotion, I let my dismay show just for a second, but I could read in his eyes that he had seen. “Damn.”
“Well, it’s put up or shut up time,” I thought. “I can’t tell this man half-truths.” Daddy used to say that trying to tell an intelligent person half-truths was as pointless as a wet tee shirt. You’d just end up uncomfortable, and they’d see through you anyway. So you might as well bare all or cover up and spare yourself looking stupid and feeling miserable. I had to trust someone, or it was me against the whole state of Colorado. All my instincts said this was an honest man. I could easily imagine him being my adversary but not my enemy. I decided to bare it all and trust I had picked the right man.
I held nothing back. I told him about Everett’s strange visit and how nervous he seemed to be. I told him about my discussion with my father and our suspicion that I was being set up to take the blame for his being forced into retirement. I honestly told him how alone and isolated I felt, as if I was the target of some local conspiracy.
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