Telling Tales

Boris, headmaster at Ozymandias Academy, entered the outer office. He smiled at his assistant, Yvonne.

“Good morning, Mr. Boris.”

“’Morning, Yvonne… Anything I need know before I start my day?”

“Nothing important, sir… Oh, a local man wishes to speak with you.”

“Always a complaint. What’s this rube want?”

“No complaint, sir. He wants to commend you on your excellent students.”

“You’re serious?”

“He is. He states one of our students cured his sick daughter, from afar, no less. And get this, the student never met her.”

“Bizarre. I’ve no time for such claptrap. Tell him he’s welcome and send him on his way.”

She wrote something on her notepad.

Boris added, “Oh, and remind him ours is a highly respected college prep academy. It’s not some run-of-the-mill school of quackery or purveyor of new-aged mumbo jumbo. No witch doctors here… Hah!”

“Yes, sir.”

“We need to tighten our reins on these students. Term’s barely started. Don’t want them hob-knobbing about, absorbing the stench of local ruffians and their uninformed ideas. Won’t have it.”

“Yes sir.”

“The idea... As if I have time to listen to fantastical hallucinations of the marginal hoi polloi.”

She nodded.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a report to get out. Severin has been on my case for a week.”

She nodded as he moved to enter his office. He stopped.

“By the way, since I have your ear…”

Yvonne looked up.

“What happened at the track meet, Saturday? I got called away early and suspect I missed some crucial event. Nothing but rumors yesterday…”

Yvonne leaned forward. “A runner from another school was in the lead. He fell and didn’t get up. One of our runners stopped to assist the fallen runner in crossing the finish line. Of course, they both lost. Our boy would have taken first place had he stayed the course.”

“Appalling. So, the loser not only threw the race but jettisoned his scholarship in one fell swoop. Not the way to get ahead. Not in this world. Not here…”

“Right, sir.”

“What next? Can’t get through a weekend without some crisis rearing its ugly head.”

“Yes, sir…”

“Have to watch that boy. Ensure he’s not up to more mischief.”

“Will do.”

“He should know by now that winners take all. Losers eat dust, or become dust themselves. By God, it’s a contest. No place for weak sisters or mercy.”

Boris glanced at his watch.

“Sheesh! I’m late for my meeting. I’ll be back.”

“Yes, sir.”

Boris rushed out. Yvonne began typing.

Boris returned after lunch. “What a day it’s been. I miss anything?”

Yvonne handed a document to Boris. “Ms. Potter, eighth English, asked if you’d give this a glance. She’s not sure how to respond to it. Says it’s well written but the content is suspect. You know, ‘academic standards…?’”

Boris sighed. “Why…? That’s not my job. What’s it about, then?”

“A wastrel son returns to the fold and his father forgives him.”

“Fantasy, eh? What father would do that? No son of mine would dare show his face.”

Boris checked his watch.

“Bring the student in. Need to nip this.”

A few minutes later, the boy, Rudy, stood in the outer office. Yvonne buzzed Boris and sent him in.

When the boy entered, Boris looked up and said, “Sit.”

The boy had never seen such an opulent office with bookshelves lining the walls. A white washed bust of their school’s namesake rested on a pillar in the corner.

Boris held up Rudy’s paper. “What’s this about… uhm, Rudy?”

“I wrote it for an assignment, sir.”

“Starting out, some might enjoy having a father like that, but no one I’d respect wants a son like that. Rewrite it. It falls short of our academic standards.”

“But…”

“Listen to me. Everyone needs to chisel our motto onto their heart and repeat it each day, upon rising. ‘Look on my works, ye Mighty…’ You know it?”

Rudy nodded.

“Good. We, at Ozymandias Academy, have the highest standards to uphold. If you want a successful career here, get on board.”

Rudy said, “Question, sir?”

Boris nodded.

“Do you have children?”

Boris was not used to personal questions, but responded. “These misfits, ahem… The academy’s students are mine. If I caught them at the decadent shenanigans you describe, they’d be out on their ears.”

“I just wrote a story I’d heard, sir. Thought it was interesting.”

“It might interest you, boy. But I wouldn’t go bragging on that point. Rewrite it and put some spine into it. We want uplifting messages. Not twaddle undermining our stringent, upward striving standards. Got it?”

Rudy nodded. He stood, made a shallow bow and exited.

Boris returned to writing his report.

The next morning, Boris came in and found a memo on his desk. Yvonne had placed it atop another questionable writing assignment delivered by Ms. Potter.

It was another subversive tale written by another student. This one described a camping trip. Somehow, everyone went into the wilderness but forgot to bring food. They faced starvation until the group leader saved them. He pulled provisions for everyone, out of a hat.

Boris scoffed. “It’s ridiculous. Who goes camping without a kit or provisions? Makes no sense. They give one man’s magic trick credit for everyone taking care for themselves. Absurd.”

Boris paused. He sensed a pattern in these untoward stories landing on his desk.

A few minutes later, a dorm monitor named Townes called.

“Mr. Boris, I know I’m supposed to write a report but felt I shouldn’t wait.”

“Yes?”

“I discovered wine in our dorm.”

“Someone will pay for this.”

“The students caught with it claimed it was only water at first. They refused to say who turned it.”

“Preposterous!”

“I kept the contraband. And I’m applying all due leverage toward discovering the culprit who brought it in.”

“Keep on it. Thanks for keeping me informed. This cannot go on.”

Boris hung up and mumbled, “Smuggling spirits… unheard of. What’s going on? All these stories… not even a month into the term…”

He narrowed his eyes and nodded. He buzzed Yvonne.

“Yes, Mr. Boris…”

“Yvonne, I’ve had an epiphany. Contact that boy, Rudy, and summon him, please.”

“Of course.”

“ASAP, Yvonne. Thanks…”

When Rudy arrived, he handed Boris another story he’d written.

“Ms. Potter asked me to give this to you, sir.”

Boris scanned it. A woman gets caught betraying her husband. The main character, a teacher, tells the authorities that only an innocent can condemn her. He demands her release.

“This isn’t why I called you, but… You invent these wild stories all by yourself, Rudy?”

“Yeah, well, they’re not exactly my creations…”

“Like this one… You have a teacher defending this wanton woman over her accusers? Some teacher. Never saw that lesson in any book I ever heard of.”

“It’s based on… I heard a story…”

“Ahh… You didn’t make them up. Who told you these filthy tales?”

“You know… Heard them around school… No one in particular.”

“Tell you what… I need to know their origin. Is it one source? Report back with a name. I want to meet this story teller.”

Rudy squirmed in his chair. “They’re just stories… uhm, Sir…”

Boris leaned in. “Let’s get real, Rudy. Your grades are not stellar. Rather underwater. I’d hate for your parent’s investment to be for naught. If you help me, I can help you get into any college you choose.”

Rudy stared at the floor.

Boris said, “You have a future, young man. Don’t let this little glitch unravel it. Think about it, but quickly.”

Without making eye contact, Rudy nodded and left.

Boris leaned back in his chair.

Ahh… The light is dawning. I am moments away from squashing this squalid little cell of miscreants.

The next day, Rudy returned to speak to Boris. “It’s a casual group. We meet at lunch, relax and talk. Anyone can join in. We pass a loaf of bread. Each one breaks off a piece and it’s their turn to talk.”

Boris buzzed Yvonne.

“Yes, Mr. Boris?”

“Yvonne, dear. Please stop all deliveries of bread to the school. Until further notice. Health alert… or something.”

“Yes, sir…”

Boris smiled at Rudy. “That’s taken care of. Now, give me a name, boy. I need to know who’s the ringleader…”

Rudy shrank into his chair.

Boris grinned. “Tell me what you know. Your secret is safe with me. You’ll graduate with my commendations.”

Rudy held his hands together to keep from trembling. “It… It’s the foreign kid… A decent guy. Means no harm…”

“Foreign… foreign?” Boris racked his brain. “You mean the runner?”

Rudy looked down. Boris took that as confirmation.

“I should have known he was subversive from the moment I heard about his stunt at the meet.”

Voice wavering, Rudy asked, “Can I go now?”

Boris pointed. “Chris… Chris! That’s his name, right?”

Not speaking, Rudy nodded.

“At last! At last! This will be over in a flash.” Boris looked at Rudy, remembering he was still in the room. “What are you doing here? I’m not your sitter. Get to class.”

Rudy bolted from the room.

Boris buzzed Yvonne.

“Yes, Mr. Boris?”

“Yvonne… Please summon that exchange student… the runner. I have a question. He has the answer.”

“Right away, sir.”

It didn’t take long for the exchange student known as Chris to arrive at Boris’ office. Boris had him sit.

Before Boris spoke, Chris said, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Boris didn’t suffer impertinence. “What makes you think that’s why you’re here?”

Chris felt trapped. He didn’t want to get anyone into trouble.

Boris wondered, Did Rudy warn him?

Chris said, “Then why have you called me here?”

Boris snorted. “You answer a question with a question at home?”

“One doesn’t get invited to the headmaster’s for a chat, sir.”

“Very astute, boy. Your actions have drawn negative attention. People cite you as the source of unsavory stories. And your bizarre behavior in the race has raised many questions.”

“I’m a good student. Do my work and have only told stories about an ancient teacher I learned about as a child. He taught love. His enemies killed him.”

Boris scoffed. “Of course they killed an outside agitator… . Can’t go around spouting rubbish. Frankly, I’m surprised they didn’t do worse.”

Chris said nothing.

“In any case, such stories are not appropriate at Ozymandias Academy. We’re winners here.”

Boris paused to let Chris absorb his statement. Chris nodded but his expression betrayed doubt.

Boris cleared his throat. “I’d like to expand my criticisms of you but I’m very busy. And you have a plane to catch.”

Chris started. “What?”

Boris tried not to smile. “Yes. You’ve acted contrary to the school’s standards of decorum, young man. And have demonstrated over and again, you are not a good fit. You’re expelled. Pack your things. You’re heading home on the next plane out.”

“But…”

Ignoring the boy, Boris began to write. Chris sat, frozen in place.

Boris looked up. “Move!”

Chris ran from the room.

Boris laughed. “Short and sweet. Should always be that easy. Looking forward to a normal week…”

Boris had Yvonne escort Chris, to ensure he boarded his plane home.

The next day, when Boris entered the building, Rudy ran up to him.

“Sir? What happened to Chris?”

“Eliminated. Gone for good.”

Rudy gasped. “Wait… What do you mean?”

“I mean… his career at this school is over, dead, kaput. He’s been removed. Returned to his family’s ‘kingdom.’ Won’t bother us again.”

Rudy mumbled, “Keep your commendations. He was a good friend.”

Boris spoke with authority. “You know nothing about that little twit. He’d been telling unsavory tales. No doubt learned at the feet of some erstwhile pedagogue in their sad excuse for a ‘kingdom.’ A first-class dump, it’s a notorious, mosquito infested backwater.”

Head down, Rudy walked away.

For three days after Chris’ departure, peace reigned at Ozymandias Academy.

On the morning of fourth day, when Boris arrived at his office, Yvonne handed him a letter.

“What’s this?”

“Just came in. That boy you expelled has been reinstated. He’s on campus, back in class now.”

Boris glanced at the letter. “Ridiculous.”

Yvonne continued. “His family went over your head to the Superintendent.”

Boris frowned. “Severin?”

Yvonne nodded.

He said, “Money talks. Are there no other standards?”

“Oh, and Mr. Severin wants to chat. In person.”

“What’s he want?”

“He didn’t say. But Mary, Severin’s secretary, hinted he thinks we’ve lost control. Here’s your appointment.”

She handed him a memo.

Boris gasped. “This afternoon? No… I’m booked all day.”

“My guess is, they want your side of it… before initiating corrective measures.”

Boris munched a protein bar while driving to the appointment with the Superintendent. He hadn’t time for a proper lunch. This was serious.

Caught in traffic, he pondered his options.

Severin’s one of us. Called me mainly for show. Checking up. Nothing to worry about.

He leaned on his horn.

Don’t want to be late. Can’t be. Bad form. I’ll be straight up with him. He’ll understand. Have to show these pups who runs the show. And it’s not them. I don’t care how old their money is. We have standards to uphold. We wouldn’t be Ozymandias Academy if we didn’t.

Traffic moved again. Boris checked his watch.

Doing alright… But what if these upstart royals from their tin pot kingdom decide to pull rank? I’ll point to the fact they came to us. If they can’t fulfill our expectations, let them boost their standards too. How dare they brandish their genealogical bona fides… to elbow in… and try dictating to us… Us! Severin gets it. He’s one of us.

Boris was seated, alone, at the long table in the conference room at the school system’s HQ. The tall windows on the far wall shone brightly. Tempted to don sunglasses, Boris thought better of it.

They spared no expense on the paneling, did they? If this goes right, I could get a new office out of it. Budgets are coming due. No harm in asking.

He didn’t wait long. The door opened and the full council of five administrators entered. No one spoke as they sat opposite Boris at the long table. All eyes were on him. No one smiled.

The Superintendent, Severin, sat with two on either side. He opened a file, scanned several pages and then looked steadily at Boris.

The silence was excruciating. Boris didn’t dare fidget.

Boris spoke up. “I’m sorry… Please forgive me… I did what I could in a most difficult... I tried to maintain…”

Severin held up his hand for silence.

Boris stared at the dark mahogany table. He placed his hands out, palms up, in supplication.

He said, “I’m so sorry.”