“So if we’re to learn anything from what happened to Jessica and her parents, it’s this — we need to live life now. We need to notice each second, and fill ourselves with its wonders and mysteries... and its joys.”
His final words brought tears to Lane’s eyes. She blinked and wiped them away.
He’s so right, she thought. Each moment is precious.
Thismoment is precious, sitting here, listening to Mr. Kramer. She realized that she had never felt closer to him, not even yesterday when he was touching her.
“I want to share a poem with you. Then we’ll get on with class.” He lifted the slim volume off his leg and opened it to a bookmark. “This is by Allan Edward DePrey. It’s called, ‘Grave Musings.’ He lowered his eyes and began to read, his clear voice low and solemn:
If I should sleep, this moonless night,
Nevermore to rise,
I’ll keep with me the shimmering light
Of the love in my lady’s eyes.
I’ll keep the touch of dewy grass
Wet on my feet at dawn,
And how it smells, so sweet, alas!
After the rain is gone.
I’ll keep the flavors I have known
Of bread and meat and wine,
And cherish them when I am bone
Because they taste so fine.
A few of the kids tittered. Mr. Kramer looked up from the page. “If you’d rather not hear the rest of this...”
“Go on,” Lane urged him.
“Maybe I shouldskip over some of this,” he said. “It gets pretty long.” He took a few moments to search the poem, apparently trying to decide where he should resume reading. Then, he continued:
Into the grave with me I’ll take
Each sight and smell and sound
And pray that they will not forsake
Me in my sleep beneath the ground —
If memory, in truth, survives,
The reaper’s savage knife
I’ll keep with me my golden prize
Of what I loved in life.
But if an empty darkness waits
Bereft of all I’ve known,
I shall not curse the cruel Fates
That cast me there alone.
For I was given years to taste,
To smell, see, feel and love.
Though doomed, at last, to charnal waste,
I had my glorious days above.
Someone in the room said, “Yuck,” and a few kids laughed.
“I admit the poem has its grim aspects, but I think DePrey’s point is well taken — ‘I had my glorious days above.’ We have to always keep ourselves aware of those glories.” He shut the book and set it aside. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “Let’s take out our textbooks and pick up where we left off yesterday.”
When the bell rang, Lane stayed in her seat. The other students filed out. She remembered how, yesterday, Jessica had stopped in the doorway and scowled at her.
The girl should’ve been enjoying the time she had left, Lane thought. Not giving me crap.
Hell, she didn’t know.
None of us knows. Any one of us could die tonight.
Instead of striking fear into Lane, the thought reminded her again of Mr. Kramer’s advice to savor every moment.
She watched him step behind the table and load his briefcase. He met her eyes. He smiled. “How are you feeling today?” he asked.
“A lot better, thanks.”
“Bruised up?”
“Yeah, some.”
“Well, you’ll have to stay out of bikinis for a while.”
Lane felt the warmth of a blush spread over her skin. “Good thing summer’s over,” she said.
“I promise not to make you stand on any more stools.”
“Do you have some papers or something for me?”
“So happens, I do.” He walked to his desk and began searching through stacks of file folders. “Ah, here we go. Spelling sentences.” He came toward her with the folder and a red pen. “Make sure you check for everything: spelling, punctuation, grammar. Five points off for each mistake.”
“Right.”
Stopping in front of Lane, he set the folder and pen on her desktop. “If you have any questions...”
“I really liked what you said at the start of class,” Lane told him. She felt daring and embarrassed. “About appreciating each moment. It was very...” She shrugged, and felt her blouse brush softly against her nipples. “I don’t know. It made me feel a lot better about things.”
He looked down at her, sorrow in his eyes. “I’m glad if it helped. This was a terrible thing. I guess everyone’s pretty shocked about it. I know I am, even though Jessica was a bit of a problem in class. Were you friends?”
A corner of Lane’s mouth curled up. “Hardly. But even still... When something like that happens...”
“I know. It makes us aware of our mortality. If it can happen to her, why not to us?”
“Yeah. I was feeling... little. Like everything in my life is so petty and trivial compared to the big stuff.”
“You shouldn’t.” His hand reached out and stroked Lane’s hair. “You shouldn’t feel that way at all.”
“I guess I know that now,” she said, feeling slightly breathless as his hand slipped down to her shoulder. It moved from side to side, sliding the blouse against her skin. “Each moment is something... to be treasured.”
“Exactly.”
Did he notice there was no strap on her shoulder?
“Nothing is trivial,” he said. “Everything counts.”
“Yeah.”
He rubbed the side of her neck. “You’re one very tense young lady,” he said. “Your neck muscles feel like rock.”
“Yeah. Hasn’t been exactly a banner day.”
“Same here.”
The gently kneading hand sent warmth flowing through her body.
“Does that feel better?”
She nodded. Her head felt heavy.
Mr. Kramer stepped behind her. She heard a desk squeak against the floor as it was pushed out of his way. Then both his hands were on her shoulders, rubbing, squeezing.
“How’s that?”
“Wonderful,” she murmured. His fingers moved up and down. The front of Lane’s blouse moved with them, caressing her breasts. She took a shaky breath. She lowered her head.
He swept her hair out of the way so it hung past the side of her face. Then he rubbed her neck just below her ears. She felt drowsy, felt as if he were squeezing warm fluid into her head. She shut her eyes. She sighed.
“Nothing like a neck rub to make things right,” he said. His hands moved lower, his gently plying fingers easing down inside the collar of her blouse. They were warm and smooth on her bare skin.
She wondered how she could feel so lazy and so excited, both at the same time.
She felt powerless to move.
Her head wobbled as he massaged her.
The top button of her blouse popped open. Lane knew where his hands were. He hadn’t unfastened the button. It had simply pulled out of its hole because of the way he was spreading her collar.
She wished he haddone it.
She imagined him unbuttoning her blouse, spreading it open, taking her breasts in his big, powerful hands.
“I’d better call it quits,” he said, “before you get too relaxed to mark the papers for me.”
“Just a little more?” she asked, her voice a quiet murmur.
His hands went away from under her collar. They squeezed her shoulders. “Some other time. Hey, someone might come in and get the wrong idea.”
She supposed that was true. She couldn’t expect Mr. Kramer to risk his job for the sake of giving her an innocent massage.
He patted her shoulder in a coachlike fashion. “Now let’s see you grade those papers.” He stepped out from behind her and started walking toward his desk.
“Mr. Kramer?”
Looking around at Lane, he raised his eyebrows. His face was slightly red.
“I feel a whole lot better now. Thanks.”
“Glad to help.” He continued to his desk, sat down, and started shuffling through papers.