While I was now a mother, I had been a school teacher by profession. It wouldn't have surprised me if I found faults with the academic direction imposed upon my children. I'd spent enough time on the other side of the apple, listening to harping complaints from dissatisfied parents. Not so, at least for mother Sarah North here is Summerside. I adored both children's teachers and the progress my darlings were making. Both excelled, far above their grade level but both were given enough extra projects to keep their active minds interested. Any fear I had that Karen would be deemed weird by fellow students because of her knowledge base, was unfounded. Her closest friends were in awe of her abilities when she allowed them a peek at her intellect.
It was several weeks after the quarry incident before Mary Ellen reentered our lives. I returned one afternoon to find her in our kitchen with Karen. We'd begun leaving Karen and Timmy alone for short periods. She was, after all nearly thirteen. There was, however, a firm, agreed upon rule of no friends when they were alone. I was ready to erupt until I remembered Paul was working at home, closeted in his den. I assumed he didn't know about Karen's company but at least it wasn't an empty household violation.
"Hello, Mrs. Blanding," Mary Ellen greeted me. I immediately sensed Karen's unease.
"Hello, Mary Ellen." She wasn't a pretty girl and was somewhat over weight. Though I'd seen her at waving distance with Karen, we'd never spoken. That didn't stop me.
"I understand Karen accompanied you to the quarry. That was against our rules and I didn't appreciate it. The incident caused her the penalty and embarrassment of missing two soccer games. The quarry is a dangerous place and nobody with any common sense would go there."
"Yes, Mrs. Blanding. I didn't know she wasn't supposed go there." Liar, liar, pants on fire. "I'll be going now." She turned to Karen. "Thanks for the cookie."
As soon as she'd left, I expected an immediate reaction from Karen but it was slow coming, mild and said matter-of-factly.
"You practically called her stupid to her face."
"Maybe I should have called her a liar instead. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have mentioned the quarry to her, especially in front of you. Please forgive me for my usual big mouth."
"You know I won't go back there. I promised you."
"I know. I trust your word." I gave her a hug that she didn't resist, and she was off to start cooking supper.
That night, her friends began calling to report the sad news that a teacher in the school had been killed in a one car accident. Karen spent most of the evening on the phone. Later, I went to her room to assess the effect of the tragedy on her. She was propped up in bed, Woof at her feet, writing in her diary. I asked her how well she knew the teacher.