[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.”I gave him the short version.He scribbled a row of indecipherable hieroglyphics.“Which trail were you on?”“I don’t know for sure.We took the trail that starts right outside Leonard Chapel.”He nodded.“Tell me about the conditions of the trail that day.”“I don’t know,” I said.“It was like any trail.It wound, got narrow in some places.”“Were there an excess of protrusions?”“Pardon?”“Were there roots and rocks and such?” he clarified.“Oh, almost everywhere.Pebbles, rocks, some thin roots.”“How large was the root you tripped on? Was it blocking the path?”“To be honest, I really can’t remember, Lonnie—it all happened so fast.”He waited.I said, “I think it might have actually been a very thin, wiry root—it was like tripping over a taut rope.”He nodded quickly, jotted something down.“What is the extent of your injury?”“A bad sprain.I’m in a brace for a month.Maybe longer.”“And does the university health-care policy cover this?”Everett said “Ha!” so loud that Lonnie jumped.“I pay for my health insurance,” I said.Flustered, Lonnie ran his pen up and down the list of questions he’d composed beforehand.“Has the injury significantly hindered your ability to perform usual activities?”“It’s a hindrance, of course.I can’t drive.I can’t walk.Not well at least.But that seems beside the point once I’m in the classroom.”“How did you get into teaching?”I frowned.“Is this really pertinent?”“Biographical background,” he explained.I hesitated, but was anxious to finish this unexpected conference as soon as possible.“I got into teaching by default.I finished my master’s degree here.They offered me a teaching position.I was too worn out from grad school to consider anything else at the time, so I stayed.” I paused.“I like the trees.”“You don’t like teaching?”“Oh, no, I like teaching just fine.It’s challenging and varied.I enjoy getting to know the students.It’s just not what I expected to do.”“What did you expect?”“The usual.Flight attendant, ballerina.Astronaut.”He tapped his pen at the air, boldly maintaining eye contact for an entire twenty seconds.“Off the record, you could have been a superb ballerina.”“Doubtful.”“You’re very tall.”He looked down again, but he wasn’t taking notes anymore.He crossed his arms.He examined the Garfield on my desk.He asked if I’d ever taken dance lessons.I said no.He replied that he had.“Really?”“But only until the second grade.Now I do tae kwon do.I was two days from my black belt when I had to leave for college.”“So this is recent,” I said.“This is now.”“Are you going to get your black belt?”“I can do these tricks.”He stood, braced his hands on his hips, and slid effortlessly into the splits, knocking his chair into the desk and the tape recorder onto the floor.Everett stared.Lonnie pressed his nose to his knee.“That’s impressive,” I managed.“Very impressive,” I said.“You’d better get up now,” I practically pleaded.Lonnie got up from the floor and calmly took his seat as if nothing had happened.“I’m a little out of shape,” he said.“But I practice in the dorm when my roommate’s gone.It keeps me limber.”“I’ll bet,” Everett said, grinning.“What the heck are you guys doing in here?” Michael stood in the doorway.“I can hear you all the way down the hall.”I introduced Lonnie to Michael, who waved his hand, perhaps to say hello, though it was the same gesture a person might use to swat away a bothersome fly.“Are you ready to get out of here? Zoë sent me to get you.”Lonnie’s eyes darted from Michael to me.His face fell.“Maybe we can finish later?” I asked.He nodded and silently gathered his recorder and papers.“That one of your special-needs kids?” Michael asked as he helped me down the sidewalk to the car he’d left running at the curb.“Don’t make fun,” I said.“Let me carry that.”He took my bag and slung it over his shoulder, then opened the car door and helped me inside, his hand lingering on mine just two seconds too long.In the months I’d known Michael, he’d shown me about the level of affection due a punching bag.I was someone he could playfully abuse with an occasional kick off the couch or a swift slug to the arm.Since the afternoon he’d carried me out of the woods, his attitude had changed entirely.If we happened to touch, the contact was gentle.He held my arm to steady my balance.He set ice on my ankle.His hand brushed mine [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]