Soldiers of Solidarity

Soldiers of Solidarity 

"What's this thing you’ve been passing around for the last ten minutes, boys? What are you looking at?" 

"Ma'am, you really need to see this, I swear."

"Show me?" 

Mrs Patterson was intrigued. There was nothing spectacular about the photograph in her hands. It was just a photo of their school in a pitiful state that seemed to have been taken recently. And yet, she had to admit to herself she felt uneasy looking at it. She dismissed it and tried to focus on the class again, but the boys insisted:

"Ma'am, there's something written on the back."

The teacher rolled her eyes and took a look reluctantly. It read "Sold" in black capital letters.

"Look at the date, Ma'am!"

May 25th, 2021. Mrs Patterson frowned. They were right to worry, she thought -the photograph had been taken exactly a month ago. Except the school had looked nothing like that at that time. In fact, it was sparkling clean and had all been freshly repainted to greet the local MP who was expected for a visit that day. But they never showed up and no explanation had ever been given to the staff or the students. 

"They must have got the date wrong. It must have been another year or so."

"But Ma'am, they changed the windows exactly a month ago, they're brand new! See?"

The teacher was starting to feel really uncomfortable. Not only did the story feel stranger and stranger but also did she fear she would be reprimanded by the headteacher if one of the students complained the class had stopped abruptly. She wasn't sure about what to do, but she also knew that her students, whose curiosity had been aroused, wouldn't let it go. She needed to find a way to put an end to the mystery right away and get them back to work. There was a simple way to do that as she was well versed in the topic. 

"I must admit it is intriguing. But let's finish the class first, and then we can talk about it. Now open your books page 15, please."

"But Ma'am, I have to catch the bus after class!"

"We can talk about it tomorrow morning, then. Now take your books. We've lost a lot of time already."

Mrs Patterson would have been lying if she'd said she carried on teaching as usual. Her students were right -it was strange. She was certain the picture had been taken recently, but then why did their school look so shabby in it? And why on earth would you put a perfectly functioning school for sale? Just like her students pretended to follow the lesson, she acted like everything was absolutely normal -until the bell rang. 

A little group had formed around her desk. If the situation hadn't turned so bizarre, she would have grinned at that sight as she loved it when the kids came and talked to her rather than run home after a long day. But everyone was concerned and theories were going every which way. Did someone really sell their school?

"Wait a minute,” said Mrs Patterson, "are we absolutely positive that this is our school in the picture?"

"Look, Miss, here is the graffiti Rafael never managed to clean."

"No way, Rafael did it? I had no..."

"Alright, this is no time to discuss Rafael's over-creative mind", Mrs Patterson snapped. "Where did you get that photo, Clarissa?" 

"Em...it fell off someone's bag this afternoon."

"Whose bag?"

"The PE teacher's, Miss!"

"You're such a telltale, Melissa!" 

"It's ok, we'll deal with this later. Does the PE teacher know you have this?"

"No...it fell off his bag and when I saw it I just thought it looked too weird to give it back. I wanted to find out what's going on."

"I'm glad you came to me. But you know you should never steal, though. I'm going to keep it for tonight."

"But what are we gonna do in the meantime, Miss?"

Mrs Patterson wasn't sure herself. She could go and ask the admin about it -and it is probably what she should do indeed- but if there really was something shady going on, they would likely try to dismiss it. They had to find a way to solve that riddle as soon as possible.

“You said it fell off Mr Cox’s bag, Clarissa?”

“Yeah. I saw Mr. Rodriguez hand it to him just before the class.”

“Ma’am, I don’t wanna gossip, but we’ve seen them hang out lately. They always seem to be plotting something.”

“Well, we have no proof of that, do we? They may just not want you to overhear their conversation, it’s confidential sometimes, especially when it comes from the deputy principal.”

“But then why don’t they do it in their office? They were standing right in the middle of the hall!”

Mrs Patterson had ran out of arguments -she had also caught them chatting and passing documents to each other often over the past few weeks. They had kept quiet and ran off every time she approached. Her colleagues and her had also begun to worry as to the fate of the school which budget had significantly shrank over the past few years. People thought private schools were often wealthy but somehow the budget had been severely mismanaged in this one, especially over the past few months which had been tough for everyone. A visit from the local MP would have ensured some much needed funding. Who knows what might have happened there? 

Just as she was about to dismiss her students, another one of them ran into the classroom.

“Riley, what are you doing here? I thought you’d caught the bus!”

‘I did, but then I started scrolling through Facebook and I found this pic someone posted last week. Look, it’s exactly the same as the one Clarissa’s found except it’s the real one! Someone must have Photoshopped it!”

Mrs Patterson couldn’t see a better explanation. It sounded quite plausible, indeed. But what about the sale? Could it have anything to do with the school’s budget? 

“Who posted it, Riley?” she asked.

“Some guy also in Year 10. Nearly everyone from the school liked the post because of the graffiti.”

“Well, it certainly gained traction, and for a good reason. It’s a shame the message had to be displayed like that though.”

“Where else in the school can you write Black Lives Matter, Miss?” 

She wanted to remind her students how vocal the school community had become and the many ways that could have been done, but she had also felt like everyone who tried to express their voice was automatically silenced lately. The school had gained a strong following from the parents’ community who had themselves become increasingly vocal about the government’s lack of actions when it came to dealing with social inequalities. Mrs Campbell, the headteacher, was herself very active and encouraged the whole community to gather once a month to discuss the issues, and many had even formed the habit of going to protests together. But even Mrs Patterson and her colleagues had felt like they were not always welcome to bring it up these past few months.

“Alright, kids. I think we all need some rest. Let’s talk about this tomorrow during the break. I’m sure it’s all a bad joke. Come on Riley, I’ll call your Mom to ask if it’s ok for me to drop you home.” 

When Mrs Patterson finally reached home that night, she was even more confused than she had been back at school earlier. The conversation with Riley’s Mom had put even more doubts in her mind. She had found out that Mrs Campbell had not gone to last month’s protest and had been severely bullied on social media. No one knew exactly who was behind it.

This is when it came back to her. A friend from school had been so disgruntled that the local MP skipped her visit she had sent her a fuming email. She had even complained she had never had the decency to get back to her. Mrs Patterson decided to call her. 

“Hi Jen, Sam here. Sorry to bother you this late.”

“Hey, love, it’s quite alright. How are you? I never even got to see you today at work.” 

“I know, I've been so busy. And then the kids showed me something really weird after class today.”

“You know what, I also saw them play with some kind of a picture today. The bell rang before I had the time to see what it was.”

“Well, turns out it’s something pretty odd. It’s a picture of the school -like an edited picture that has nothing to do with the school, really- and it says “SOLD” on the back.”

There was a short silence on the line.

“What the heck is this all about? That’s really bizarre.” 

“I know. The kids say it fell off Adrian’s bag.” 

“Oh God, didn’t I tell you there was something odd about the lot of them these days? I've heard they’ve been pretty nasty to some kids lately. It’s weird the admin staff hasn’t picked up on it yet.”

“That’s exactly what I thought and they’ve been trying to avoid me every time I bump into them in the hall.” 

“Same here, but d’you know that literally everyone was saying that in the staffroom today? There’s something dodgy going on, Sam.”

“That’s what I called you for. Did you say you'd emailed the MP?”

“Oh I did, that lady really is a treat, believe me! She’s actually only just replied to me, can you believe it? A super rude, angry email saying she’d never even got the invite in the first place and neither did her secretary. Given how much visibility she's trying to get everywhere I’ll have to believe her, I guess.” 

“Well, I’m pretty sure we can find a way to confirm that -Rodriguez was in charge of the whole thing. You know he always handles the celebs.”

“Are you kidding me, he’s the expert in the field! Well, do let me know if you find anything.”

“I will. Thanks again, Jen. See you at school.”

“Bye, Darling.” 

After talking to her friend, she couldn’t bear the thought of waiting another day to find out more. There must have been a reason why Mrs Campbell went quiet all of a sudden, and if it was true she had received threats and insults, she must have felt very lonely by now. They had always been close at school but never quite dared to push the relationship outside. Sam thought this might be the perfect time to make the first move, and texted her. 

I KNOW YOU’RE GOING THROUGH A ROUGH TIME. I’M HERE TO TALK IF YOU NEED TO. Xx, SAM. 

Her phone beeped almost instantly.

COULD USE A FRIEND RIGHT NOW… POP OVER FOR COFFEE? Xx

Sam was petrified when Mrs Campbell finished her story. She had told her everything. How the deputy principal and the PE teachers had been bullying her for months and threatened to destroy her reputation should she ever talk. They wanted her gone, and they wanted the school to be finished. They had claimed everyone had been suffering too long from the poor funding and had blamed her for “setting fire to the school’s values” for using it as a shield against the government. She knew Mr Rodriguez had never sent the invitation to the MP but had no evidence to prove it. And she also knew they had already found an influential seller who would be ready to buy the moment she was gone. But there was one story she hadn’t heard yet. When Sam told her all about the photograph the kids had found that day, her eyes glimmered with hope. They smiled at each other playfully. They had an idea. 

The next morning, as Mrs Patterson was making her way to her classroom, she saw Mr Rodriguez hurrying down the corridor, apparently furious. 

“Morning, James. Everything al-”

“No time to talk,” he snapped.

And he disappeared at the other end of the hall. 

Mrs Patterson headed to the staffroom for her five-minute break only to find the three PE teachers engaged in an animated conversation. 

“Where the heck has it gone? I’d asked you to keep an eye on it! What kind of idiot would take it to class anyway!”

“Lost something, Steve?” Mrs Patterson asked chirpily. 

Looking like they had all just seen a ghost, the clan walked out of the room without a word. She was rather certain what it was they were looking for. 

During the morning break, she shared the whole plan with her students who added yet more an ingenious twist to it. As they were making their way out of the classroom, they caught glimpse of Mr Rodriguez walking past them, looking a lot more serene than he had earlier. Mrs Patterson winked at her students -it looked like the gang had found the photograph she had slipped in the PE teacher’s bag earlier in the morning. Now the plan could finally unfold. It was only just a matter of time. 

At 6.45pm, Mrs Patterson wished good night to the cleaners and left her classroom. She nodded politely at the three PE teachers and the deputy principal who were walking side by side in the hall, and discretely grinned at Mrs Campbell whose door was open as she walked past her office. She looked extremely calm. Everything was going according to plan. 

It took only a few seconds for Mrs Campbell to forward the audio file to Riley.once the four men had left her office. Minutes later, she heard a loud male voice resonate through the whole playground. She stood by the window and watched the show anxiously. 

They were all there. The whole community of parents standing side by side with their children and the teachers outside the school gates, surrounding the four men. They were all there to boo Mr Rodriguez, Mr Cox and the two other PE teachers as they heard their menacing voices through the speakers the kids had set up at each side of the playground. They heard them threaten Jane Campbell to send the photograph to the press. Threatening the school’s reputation would be well and truly destroyed if she didn’t leave immediately. And swearing, finally, to make her life and that of her children miserable shall she ever go to the police, and not just on social media. It was all there, out in the open, and all over. 

A police siren echoed in the distance, and so did the cheerful music of the ice cream van. A few moments later, the four men were arrested, and a party initiated by the students who had saved the day was soon in full swing. With an ice cream cone already melting in his hands, Riley came close to Sam Patterson wearing his mischievous, infectious smile.

“We did it, Miss! Thank you so much!”

“There’s nothing to thank me for. You did all the job, kids. You can be proud of yourselves -you saved the school! But no more stealing from people’s bags, Clarissa, right?”

The whole gang walked away giggling. Sam shouted:

“And thanks for the drinks, by the way! Really thoughtful of you, guys.”

Her friend Jen came to join her, a glass of fizz in each hand. She handed one to Sam.

“Long day, huh?”

“A bit, yeah…more like a long year, actually. I’m relieved Jane can finally get her life back. But we still don’t know how we’re gonna fund the school.”

“Well, there might be a way to fix that,” Jen said, taking a long sip. “Look over there.” 

A journalist from the BBC was interviewing Mrs Campbell near one of the three centenary trees. 

“That might bring a few donations, don’t you think?” 

“Well, let’s hope so. There’s still something else to figure out, though.”

“What’s that?” 

“We still need to find that buyer. Something tells me a bunch of influential people are behind all this. They might not back off easily. But that’s for another day. Cheers!”

Word count: 2,705

By Marie-Camille Grangier