" I could only think of one reason for this call. Summers must really be an asshole. On the wall beside the door was a telephone-type intercom that could have been used. All that would have to have been done was to consult one of the three grade nine period charts.The class was quiet and everybody was looking at me. "I am sorry for disturbing your class, sir, and it seems the entire school. It would have taken too much work to just talk to you on the phone, I guess."I hurried to the gym and put a dime in the public phone and made a very quick call. When I got to the office I found an angry Mr. Summers outside his office. "It took you long enough."The comment did not need a reply and I just looked at him."Get in my office," he said as he stood to one side.I walked in to see another man sitting in a chair and glaring at me. The VP came in and closed the door behind him. He said without preamble, "Do you know who this man is?" Is that a rhetorical question, or would you really want me to. The frustrating part was that those sixteen days changed my life. No. Scratch that. They tore my life apart. A peal of thunder rolled overhead, shaking me back to reality. Rattles came from the stacks of plates on the counter and I could see little circular ripples on the surface of my drink. I looked around the diner. During the day, the 24-hour diner was a pretty busy place, but at 3 a.m. there weren’t many patrons. There was an old woman in the corner booth talking to herself while munching on a piece of wheat toast. Every once in a while, she would glance over at the entrance as if she were expecting someone to come through the door. A balding man sitting at the breakfast counter, his bulk spilling over the red vinyl stool, shoveled in a double order of ‘2s’, 2 pancakes, 2 eggs, 2 sausages or bacon. On the stool next to him lay a cane that he obviously used for walking. I had to wonder if it would truly hold him if he had to put all of his weight on it. The waitress, Estelle,.
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