One Last Thing ✅

forty-six things

During fifth period, the school secretary gets on the intercom. Everyone looks up from their textbooks, exchanging curious glances.

"We will be dismissing all classes to the gymnasium," the secretary announces. "Students should proceed directly to the gym."

I throw a glance at the teacher, who is sitting at the front of the classroom with a newspaper. Even he looks like he doesn't know what's going on.

The halls are eerily subdued as we all walk to the gym. People speak in hushed tones, wondering what this is all about, but no one dares to jump on each other or shout the usual profanities.

I run into Riley in the hallway and give her a questioning look. "What's going on? Do you know?"

She shakes her head. "No idea."

When we reach the gym, I see that it's been set up with rows and rows of black folding chairs. At one end, there is a stage—the one they usually use for graduation—with a screen, a projector, and a microphone. Rose Evans and another girl from the newspaper are standing by the microphone, chatting with Principal O'Hara. Then I see a couple of familiar faces sitting in the front row, and I freeze.

Mr. Edwards.

And Harper.

Someone bumps into me from behind and swears. I force myself to keep walking, even though the man who told me to stay away is sitting at the front of the gym. My heart pummels my rib cage.

Breathe.

I follow Riley and sink into a chair next to her, trying to calm myself. The fact that Mr. Edwards is here means this assembly has something to do with the crash, doesn't it? I'm considering the idea of just leaving, but then Abbott's dad clears his throat and taps his fingers against his microphone.

"Is this thing working?"

A few kids in the front row nod at him, so he starts his speech. "Two weeks ago, we lost an important member of our community. I know that many of you have been struggling with this loss and might be uncertain about how to deal with your feelings of grief. A number of you worked with Mrs. Edwards on the school newspaper, and most of you have taken a class with her over the years. It is important for us to recognize Mrs. Edwards and all that she did for our school. Today is meant to provide you with some sense of closure, however inadequate. Several students from the newspaper have put together a slide show to commemorate one of the finest teachers we've employed at Thomas Edison High."

Abbott's father makes a strange choking sound, and I think about how awkward it would be if he started crying in front of the whole student body. I look around for Abbott and finally spot him sitting in the back, near the exit. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere than here. I can appreciate the sentiment.

I turn my attention back toward the stage. Rose messes with a computer that's hooked up to the projector. The other girl crosses her arms over her chest, clearly trying to hold herself together during a very emotional moment.

Someone hits the lights, and the gym goes dark. A weepy classical song begins to play. A picture of Mrs. Edwards during last year's community service day flickers onto the screen. In it, she wears a faded University of Iowa sweatshirt. Her long, brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She looks pretty, much younger than she did in the cardigans and pearls she always wore to school.

I find myself staring at the back of Harper's head. She's wearing a pink and gold scarf to cover her bare scalp. What is she thinking as she watches the pictures flash on the screen? Does she even realize her mother is gone forever? How old will she be before that idea becomes real for her? Perhaps she will pass away herself soon and join her mother in heaven or whatever. Or maybe they will both just be gone, existing only in pictures and our memories.