"How could we? He didn't tell us-"
"And we're both so angry we want to beat somebody up and the only person within easy reach is each other." DeAnne stopped talking for a moment. Then, to Step's surprise, she laughed. Laughed and lowered herself to the edge of the bed.
"OK, share the joke with the rest of us in this room," said Step.
"I was just thinking-this is so stupid, it isn't even funny ..." She wiped tears away from her eyes.
"I know, I can see how funny it isn't," said Step.
"I just thought, when I said we're so mad and the only person we can reach is each other, I thought, `Let's go beat up Sister LeSueur."'
She was right. It wasn't really funny, and yet Step had to sit down beside her on the bed and laugh and laugh.
Step didn't actually ask for permission to leave work in the middle of the day. He just leaned his head into Dicky's office and said, "I'm taking lunch at two-thirty this afternoon because I have to go meet with my son's teacher after school."
"Your wife can't do that?" asked Dicky.
"Dicky," said Step, "it's my lunch hour, and I'm taking it at two-thirty. I'm only telling you because I want you to know where I'm going to be during that time period. I wasn't asking permission.
Dicky made no argument, just shrugged and gave a sort of half smile that made Step say to himself, You're too sensitive, too prickly Step. Dicky didn't mean anything by what he said, and you jumped all over him.
Then, at twenty after two, as Step was sliding his microcassette recorder into his right pants pocket just prior to leaving, Dicky buzzed him on the phone. "Come by my office, please," he said.
"I'm on my way out," said Step. "To lunch."
"On your way, then, please stop by my office."
Step felt a sick dread in the pit of his stomach. Is he firing me? Because I spoke rudely to him? Impossible.
Or maybe Ray Keene found out that I snuck a copy of my employment agreement, and so he thinks I'm looking for another job and so I'm being sacked because of that.
Instead, Dicky was all smiles when Step came into his office. There was another man there, a tall, thin fellow with a dark complexion and a sepulchral face that would have been rather fright ening if he hadn't been smiling so broadly. In fact, his head was so narrow and his smile so wide that it looked for a moment as if he really were, literally, grinning from ear to ear. A mouth like a Mup pet, though Step.
"Meet Damien Weinreiter," said Dicky. "We're interviewing him for that programming position we have open."
"Oh? I didn't know we were looking for a programmer." Step never knew when they were hiring or firing people-he wasn't exactly part of the personnel process.
"Oh, yes, and I thought we couldn't very well have him come through without you having a chance to interview him."
Interview him! When Step had to get to Stevie's school?
Of course, he realized. This was how Dicky was getting back at him for speaking so sharply to him earlier today. Trying to put him into a position where he had to stay and miss that appointment. And the worst thing was that it was going to work. There was no gracious way that Step could tell Dicky to sit on his thumb, Step was taking his lunch now.
"Dicky, why me? I write manuals."
"Oh, Step, don't be so modest. You're not just our manual writer."
I knew it! thought Step. He knew about my secret assignment all along.
Dicky went on. "You're also the programmer of Hacker Snack. So of course Damien wants to get a chance to meet you."
"Great game," said Damien. "You're the best."
Yeah, right, thought Step. And you want a job here and you have the delusion, you poor thing, that sucking up to me will help you get it. Dicky here has probably already decided that you're not going to get an offer, and he's just using you to screw up my family life.
Well, Dicky, it isn't going to work.
Step did as Dicky asked-came in and sat down while the interview continued. But he knew Dicky had no intention of actually letting Step take part in the conversation. This was a humiliation game, so Dicky was going to make Step sit there in virtual silence while he conducted an interview in which Step was obviously not needed for anything.
So Step opened his attache case, took out a yellow notepad, and wrote a brief note to Dicky.
Dear Dicky, I'm putting this on a note so I don't embarrass you in front of your interview.
I'm going to meet with my son's teacher, as I told you I would. And I can't wait to be there at the meeting when you tell Ray Keene that you are now including me in the hiring process for programmers. With such a broadening of my responsibilities, I'm sure I'll get a raise!
Affectio nately yours, Step He stood up, wordlessly put the note on Dicky's desk, and left, closing the door behind him.
On the way to the school, Step tried to calm himself down. His anger at Dicky would do no good if it made him approach Mrs. Jones carelessly. He had to handle this exactly right with her, or he would do more harm than good. Being angry wouldn't help.
DeAnne had let him take the car today. He had been trying to catch more rides with other employees more often lately, because he knew how trapped she felt, being home all day without a car. Somehow he knew they had to come up with a second car-especially after the baby was born this summer. No way could he leave her home with a newborn without transportation. And yet it really didn't work out well fo r him to ride with others.
He always ended up keeping them late. Or coming home with Gallowglass, and he hated bringing Gallowglass to his home. He didn't even want Glass knowing where he lived, though of course it was far too late for that.
And Glass still asked him, every time, when Step was going to call on him to babysit. No, Step needed a car and DeAnne needed a car and there was no way they could scrape together the money right now even to buy a junker, let alone something dependable.
He pulled up in front of the school as the last buses were pulling out. Too late he remembered that DeAnre had told him that he had to take Fargo Road so he could park in that hidden lot up on the hill. Oh, well, thought Step. What are they going to do, shoot me? So he pulled in behind the last bus and followed it around the turnaround and pulled into a visitor parking place.
Dr. Mariner was at the door as he approached the school. "I'll bet you didn't know that parents aren't supposed to use the turnaround after school," she said.
"Actually, I did," said Step, "but I forgot until I was here and then I saw the last bus was leaving so I figured it wouldn't do any harm."
"Why, in fact, I think you're right. No harm done at all. Can I help you with something?"
"I hope so, ma'am. I'm Step Fletcher, and I'm here to-"
"Stevie Fletcher's father?"
"Yes," said Step, "I am."
"Oh, what a remarkable young man you have! And your wife is such a sweetie. And I think you have a little boy who's going to be in our kindergarten next year."
"Yes, that's Robbie."
"Well, I can hardly wait, though of course I'll be sad to see Stevie leave us. He's the sweetest boy, and so smart. Why, Mrs. Jones is always telling me how well he does in class, and of course you already know how he did with his second-grade project."
"I did hear something about it," said Step. He wanted her to tell him, in part because he didn't know which story was going to be true.
"Hear something about it indeed," said Dr. Mariner. "First-place winner, and you 'heard something about it.'
We don't get many students of his caliber. You must know that."
"Oh, yes," said Step. "But I'm glad to know you know it."
"Well, of course," said Dr. Mariner. "But I mustn't keep you--I'm sure you came to have a consultation with Mrs. Jones, and we don't want her to be kept waiting."
"Actually, she doesn't know I'm coming."
"Oh, well, all the more reason to hurry-you want to get there before she goes home. My I hope she hasn't already left! Do you know where her classroom is?"
"Actually, no," said Step.