"I don't have to justify my grades to you or anyone else!" said Mrs. Jones.
"Yes," said Step mildly. "In fact you do. You can justify it to me, today, or you can justify it before the school board."
"Are you threatening me?" asked Mrs. Jones.
Step almost brought out the tape recorder then, to confront her with it. But he knew that the moment she saw it, she would say nothing more-and there was more that he needed her to say.
"No, Mrs. Jones. I wouldn't dream of it. If my son earned a C, then he earned a C. I'm not trying to get you to change the grade. I just want you to help me understand it."
"This discussion has gone on long enough. It isn't right for you to be here alone in this room with me anyway, Mr. Fletcher."
"Perhaps you're right," said Step. "Let's go get Dr. Mariner to join in this conversation with us. I haven't mentioned Stevie's C to her yet, but I'm sure she'll want to know the reason for that grade as much as I do."
Mrs. Jones glared at him, then sat down at her desk and began rummaging through a file drawer. She came out with Stevie's paper. Sure enough, there was a big red C at the top.
And not another mark.
"I guess all the flaws in the paper are on the second page," said Step.
"What?" she said.
"There aren't any marks on the first page, so the errors must all be on the second page. I'd like to see them."
She handed him the paper.
He opened it. There was only one red mark on the second page. Mrs. Jones had circled the word octopuses and in the margin had written octopi.
"Oh, but you must be making a little joke here," said Step.
"A joke?"
"Look," he said, showing her the paper. "You must be kidding, right?"
"I'm not kidding when I correct errors on my students' papers."
"But Mrs. Jones, surely you know that the plural of octopus is either octopus, with nothing added, or octopuses."
"I think not," said Mrs. Jones.
"Think again, Mrs. Jones."
She must have realized that she was not on firm ground here. "Perhaps octopuses is an alternate plural, but I'm sure that octopi is the preferred."
"No, Mrs. Jones. If you had looked it up, you would have discovered that octopi is not the preferred spelling. It is not a spelling at all. The word does not exist, except in the mouths of those who are pretending to be educated but in fact are not. This is because the us ending of octopus is not a Latin nominative singular ending, which would form its plural by changing to the letter i. Instead, the syllable pus in octopus is the Greek word for 'foot.' And it forms its plural the Greek way. Therefore octopoda, not octopi. Never octopi."
"Well, then, octopoda. Your son's paper said octopuses."
"I know," said Step. "When he asked me the correct plural, I told him octopoda. But then he was still uncertain, because my son doesn't think he knows something until he knows it, and so he looked it up. And to my surprise, octopoda is only used when referring to more than one species of octopus, rather than when referring to more tha n one actual octopus. What Stevie put in his paper is in fact the preferred dictionary usage.
Which you would have known, too, if you had looked it up."
"So I'm human, Mr. Fletcher. I made a mistake."
"As did I, Mrs. Jones, as did I. But the fact remains that the only red mark on this C paper is in a place where you have taken a correct plural and replaced it with an incorrect one. Isn't that right?"
"If you say so," said Mrs. Jones.
"So I'm still baffled," said Step. "How can I possibly help Stevie do better next time? You haven't really pointed out a single thing wrong with his paper-oh, except that he didn't put a plastic cover on it."
"There won't be a next time," said Mrs. Jones. "Your son will never have to do another second grade project as long as he lives. So it doesn't matter, and therefore you're wasting my time as well as your own. Good afternoon, Mr. Fletcher!"
"One more question, Mrs. Jones."
"No," she said. "I have to go home, right now."
"It's just one more question," said Step, mildly. If she didn't stop, however, the tape recorder would definitely come out. She would not be going home anytime soon.
"Very well, what!"
"Who is going to take that ribbon home?"
Mrs. Jones looked at the ribbon that Step was pointing to.
"That is the first place ribbon for Stevie's project, isn't it?"
"It might be," said Mrs. Jones.
"Then who will take it home?"
"If it's the particular ribbon you're referring to, then of course Stevie will take it home at the end of the school year."
"Ah," said Step. "Then what in the world are you going to tell J.J.?"
She blanched.
Stevie's story was completely vindicated now.
"What do you mean?" she said.
"Why, I mean that Stevie's whole class is under the impression that J.J. received that award."
"That's impossible," said Mrs. Jones.
"Is it? Let's call J.J.'s parents and see," said Step.
"I certainly will not bother my children's parents over such a thing."
"Then I'll go to Dr. Mariner's office right now and she and I will place that phone call together," said Step.
"You won't mind, will you?"
Mrs. Jones was barely holding herself together now, Step could see that. She was wringing her hands and he could see that she was trembling. "It's possible that someone might have gotten a false impression. That perhaps someone made a mistake and ..."
No, thought Step. You aren't going to weasel out of this. You're going to say it outright. "You stood in front of the class and announced that J.J. won the prize, didn't you?" he asked.
"Oh, now, don't be silly," she said.
"What if lawyers representing the school board came to your students and asked them how they got the idea that J.J. won the ribbon? What would they say?" Step knew that of course such a thing would never happen, but he figured that Mrs. Jones was not going to be confident of that, not in the state she was in right now.
"I may have said something that gave that impression," said Mrs. Jones.
"May have, or did?"
She looked toward the window, weaving and unweaving her fingers. "I thought that Dr. Mariner had judged very hastily, and so she missed the superior merits of J.J.'s project."
"Ah," said Step.
"If you want," said Mrs. Jones, "I will change Stevie's grade. And of course I will correct the mistake about the ribbon."
Yes, I'm sure you will, thought Step. And then you'll torment and ridicule Stevie even more mercilessly every day until school ends. "No," said Step. "I don't want you to change Stevie's grade. In fact, I insist that you not change it. I want it there on the books, just as it is now."
Mrs. Jones looked at him narrowly. "Then what is all this about? Just the ribbon? Very well."
"The ribbon- yes, that would be nice. You can tell the students that there was a mistake and in fact the ribbon belongs to Stevie."
"Very well, I will do that tomorrow."
"But that's not all," said Step.
"I think it is," said Mrs. Jones. "Unless you changed your mind about the grade."
Step pulled the tape recorder from his pocket, pressed rewind for a few moments, and played it back. It was fuzzy, but it was clear. "... the superior merits of J.J.'s project." Then Step pushed stop.
Her face turned white, and it occurred to Step that perhaps he had overplayed this moment- it wouldn't be very good for anybody if the woman fainted right now.
But she didn't faint. And when she did speak, her voice was stronger than he expected. "That's illegal," she said. "To bug a conversation like that."
"On the contrary," said Step. "It's only inadmissible when it was obtained by a government employee without a warrant. I'm not a cop. I'm just a man who carries around a tape recorder. Besides, I don't intend to use this in court. I only intend to play it for Dr. Mariner and every member of the school board as I put an end to your career."