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Jake had planned to drive back to Boston tonight. But he knew the janitor's story about Miss Annabelle had just begun. And from what Jake heard so far, the three heroes of the new millennium had their start right here in the third grade, 27 years ago in Miss Annabelle's classroom. Indeed, the three heroes made radical shifts from grooved-in appearances in their fields; they cut through to the essence in physics, medicine, and electronic business.
Jake asked the janitor if they could spend some time together over the next couple of days.
"Sir, in honor of Miss Annabelle, I'd find it a privilege to tell you the whole story, 'cause if I don't, Lord knows the world will never know what happened here."
"What do you mean?" Jake asked.
The janitor's face seemed to be full of emotions as he gazed at the horizon; he said, "My god, I sometimes imagine what could have been. ...Yeah, we'll spend some time talking; you'll find out soon enough. I'll tell you everything."
"Thank you, Mister..."
"Jessie...call me Jessie."
"Thank you, Jessie. My name's Jake...I'm attending Boston University."
"Are you writing a story for the college paper?" Jessie asked.
"You know, Jessie, I'm minoring in journalism, but I came here only out of curiosity. Now, it seems to be more than that...like I'm going to discover powerful ideas about life. But whatever I do with this story, I'll split the credit and, if the story sells, I'll split the money with you. We're partners, OK?"
"Ah, that's not necessary, Jake. I'm happy with my life here. I don't need nothin'. If you sell a story, my only price is that you tell it like it happened."
"You really care about Miss Annabelle, don't you?"
That statement seemed to surprise Jessie. He paused as if remembering her, then said, "Yeah, I really did." A somber look came over his honest face. He hesitated as if he were going to say more, but instead gestured for Jake to come along.
They walked back inside the school, down a hallway lined with red lockers to the first door on the right.
"Tomorrow, I'll show you Miss Annabelle's old room," Jessie promised.
"Whatever happened to her?" Jake asked, feeling the urge to meet the former third grade teacher.
"Ah, you'll find out. But ya gotta hear it in order, my man." Jessie was smiling. "Oh, and Jake, you're staying with me and the Mrs. We're going to need to spend some nights doing lots of talking to get you back to school in time for next semester."
They turned into the little room with the time clock. Jessie said he didn't have to work on January 4th, but he came in for a couple of hours to wax a few floors while no one was in. He walked past the time clock without punching his time card, for he hadn't clocked in. They walked straight through the small room to the back door. Jessie lifted his worn red and black flannel jacket off the only hook on the wall, and they left through the back door. The temperature had fallen, and the condensation from their warm breaths blew back into their faces as they walked into the school's side parking lot where Jessie's old beat-up Plymouth Fury sat with three other newer cars.
"I'll drive you around to your car," Jessie said.
Jessie unlocked the passenger door first, saying something about the lock only working with the key, and went around to open his own door. Jake stood next to the car looking at his new friend.
"Jessie, I really appreciate what you're doing."
"No, I appreciate what you're doing, Jake. For 27 years, I've waited for
someone like you to come along." Then, Jessie looked down at his hands
fumbling with the keys, and added,
"I only hope it's not too late for Miss Annabelle."
"What happened to her? What happened to Miss Annabelle?" But Jessie only smiled and whispered, "You must hear her story, first."
*
Jessie followed Jake to the motel. Jake got his things and checked out. Then he got in his car and followed Jessie. After a five minute drive through the suburbs, they pulled into Jessie's driveway. Jake looked at the small but nicely manicured house and lawn: new paint, trimmed bushes and trees, a recently raked lawn. Jake could see that Jessie was a proud man.
"Yeah, this is where I've parked it for over 30 years. House and car are paid for. Me and the Mrs. drive to Florida for a week every year. We're happy." As Jessie said the words we're happy, Jake felt as if those two words summed up the meaning of Jessie's life. Without a lot of monetary success per se, Jake sensed the summary of Jessie's life, `we're happy', had come from a life of honesty.
As they stepped inside, a pleasant lady's voice called out, "Darling, you're home!"
Instinctively, Jessie leaned over and removed his shoes. Jake followed his lead. The house was warm, and taking off the shoes felt cozy.
In a moment, the pleasant female voice was followed by the appearance of Jessie's wife. "Oh, hi there. I'm Angie."
Jake looked up from his shoes at the slim, tall black woman with long straight hair, and he quickly stood up. "Hi, I'm Jake," he said while reaching out his hand to shake hers.
"Honey, Jake's from Boston University," Jessie said. "He's my new friend. He's doing some research, and I asked him to stay with us for a few days."
"Oh? What kind of research?" Angie asked Jake.
As Jake started to answer, he noticed he already felt at home around Jessie and Angie. They were old enough to be his parents. Jessie was an honest, salt-of-the-earth working man. And his wife, who had wrapped one arm around Jessie's waist, struck Jake as the jewel of Jessie's life. She was attractive, loving, and she obviously took good care of Jessie.
"I'm looking into the schooling of Theodore Winters, Dr. Sally Salberg, and Dr. Ian Scott," Jake answered.
"He's the first one to know," Jessie almost whispered to Angie. Jake noticed Angie's expression change.
"He's figuring it out?" Angie quietly said back to Jessie. He nodded.
After a moment of looking at Jake, Angie took a deep breath and smiled. Her face was so smooth and sweet that Jake thought it could outcompete two-thirds of the young girls' faces back at Boston University.
"Yes...we know a lot about them," Angie said to Jake. "I was wondering when someone out there would figure it out. Are you writing an article?"
"No...no, I'm just a student," Jake explained, "but I think something big is going to come of this. ...Angie, when you said you wondered when someone out there would figure it out, what did you mean by `it'?"
"A few of the town folk know about the roots of the three heroes," Jessie offered. "I'm glad someone like you is here to find out more. The school has hushed it up. But when the three kids...I mean alumni...had their big breakthroughs, the few of us who remember...we knew it would be a matter of time before someone would show up here."
"A cover up? What happened here?" Jake was confused.
"Let's have dinner, dear. We can talk then." Angie turned and took Jessie's hand. From behind, they looked like a couple of teenagers, Jake thought, as he followed them into the kitchen and to the adjoining dining room.
*
"The pot roast was delicious, Angie," Jake pronounced.
"Yes it was, baby," Jessie agreed. "She takes good care of me, always has. I love ya, baby."
Angie, who was cleaning the table, mouthed back, "I love you."
Feeling right at home, Jake said, "Jessie, do you think Scott, Salberg, and Winters remember Miss Annabelle?"
"They'll never forget her," Jessie said without hesitation. "But I really don't know if they remember each other. Twenty seven years is a long time ago, especially for those giants."
"Well, then," Jake said, "Can I write them each a letter tonight to let them know?"
"No, dear," Angie jumped in, "Let Jessie tell you everything first. You need to know everything. ...Why don't you two go into the living room. Jessie darling, light a fire, and you two get comfortable. I'll bring you coffee."
Jessie nodded at her affectionately, leading the young visitor into the living room. Jake rested back in the love seat as Jessie stuffed newspaper under two dry logs in the fireplace.
"Son, I've lived long enough to know that a spectacularly wonderful thing can be too good for this world. If you put a beautiful work of art like a Michelangelo sculpture in front of people, someone will eventually attack it with a hammer."
"What happened?" Jake asked.
"Well, it didn't go bad all at once. It started slowly late one Friday afternoon, but it grew like a cancer. The students had been out of school for about two hours, and the faculty had also gone home. The school was empty, except for Miss Annabelle, preparing lectures for her class. She often stayed late like that, which is how I got to know her. About six o'clock Friday evening, I was cleaning the hallway floor around the corner from her room when I heard Miss Annabelle talking loudly in her room. Something was wrong -- she sounded afraid. I rushed to her room and opened the door. Mr. Burke turned around. Miss Annabelle's face looked frightened. `Is there a problem here?' I asked. `No, Jessie,' Burke replied. `We're going over some issues here about the kids. You can go on about your work.'
"But I could see Miss Annabelle didn't want me to leave. So I said, `Your room's next on the agenda; I'm here to clean.' Burke then left. While he was leaving, he said to her `We'll continue this discussion later,' and he bolted past me."
Jessie paused.
"Go on," Jake urged. "What happened next?"
Jessie continued his story, taking Jake's imagination back to the time and place 27 years ago...
*
Miss Annabelle was speechless after Burke left the room. She looked shaken and scared.
"Are you okay?" Jessie asked her.
She searched Jessie's genuinely concerned eyes for a moment then said, "Yes. ...Thank you for showing up."
"I heard you all the way from the other hall; you sounded upset."
"I was. That man...he was threatening to get me fired if I didn't...never mind."
"I'll call the police, ma'am."
"No, no...please don't. You stopped him before he could do anything. No, I'm just shocked. Thank you. Please, tell me your name."
"I'm Jessie. I'm the custodian." But seeing her still breathing hard from the adrenaline released in her system, Jessie added, "Miss Annabelle, are you sure we don't need to call the police?"
"No Jessie. I am OK now."
Jessie tried to point out that Burke left saying he would continue this discussion later, which was a threat. Miss Annabelle listened to Jessie and thought about what he said, weighing it heavily against another thought in her mind. After sorting through her own thoughts, she said, "Jessie, with this kind of thing, who knows what kind of psychoanalyzing and rumors can get started. In the end, I might find myself in the middle of a scandal and not be allowed to continue teaching my class." Her voice trailed off. She was unaware that she was muttering her own reaction to that last thought, "I could not bare to lose my kids."
At that moment, the young black man understood, for he saw a look on her face he would never forget: the greatest infliction on Miss Annabelle would be separation from the twelve children she now loved. Her drive in life, he realized, was to educate those children her way -- toward a new and limitless mind. Jessie knew that Burke's threats were sexual, which were very difficult for a woman to prove and could backfire and cause the worst kind of scandal for a third grade teacher. She could not risk something like that, which could interfere with, or worse, end her year with her pupils.
*
The following Monday afternoon, after the children had gone home, Jessie slipped into Mr. Burke's room and shut the door behind him.
"Listen up, Burke: When it comes to Miss Annabelle, I'm your judge and your jury." Jessie's eyes were wide and looking down, his nostrils flared open. "You continue that discussion with her again, and I'll come after you."
Something inside was driving Jessie to the edge of violence, and Burke could sense it. He was afraid, but he tried to act fraternal, for a moment. "Now Jessie, come on, I'm single; she's single. You know? I was just playing with her. Come on, you're acting like you're her father."
Jessie grabbed Burke's sports jacket and pulled him close, "You threaten her; I hurt you. You hurt her; I cripple you. Do you know what I'm saying?" Jessie stared at Burke who was nodding, too scared to talk. Then Jessie pushed Burke away.
Jessie left Burke crumpled and humiliated. Next Jessie went to Miss Annabelle's room. Her door was open, and he knew the moment he saw her that she was nervous. "Miss Annabelle?" he said as gently as he could, causing her to jump nonetheless. "I'm sorry, ma'am. May I come in?"
"Please do, Jessie. I've been on edge all day."
"You don't have to worry about him. I've put a scare into him. He'll stay away from you now."
"What did you do?" she asked, genuinely surprised.
"Let's just say he won't touch you if he respects his own life."
"Thank you, Jessie. Thank you. Now I can get back to my lectures. ...You're a real friend."
*
Early October brought cool mornings to this northeastern town...as well as increased absenteeism of the student body. But not a single student had missed a single day in Miss Annabelle's class. She gave more homework than the other teachers, lectured the basics more like a college professor might. But during those lectures, she would go off on important, related subjects, and she would uniquely dig past appearances to the essence of things to reveal startling new ways of looking at things. She showed her students how to begin to dig deeper by seeing common denominators.
Common denominators helped them dig past confusing appearances while pulling information together. Those daily "digs" into life were like delicious treats to the children. Children love to learn and understand, so for her students to miss a day of Miss Annabelle's class would be to miss out. Their young minds were putting together the exciting puzzle of life...and they did not want to miss a single piece to the puzzle! They had already learned the meaning of life and love...and there was something exciting about hearing long-standing beliefs, appearances, and the status quo routinely batted down by their teacher. Was she a rebel...or just very smart?
*
By mid October, things got back to normal. Miss Annabelle was delivering startling lectures. When the cold and flu season started and some of Miss Annabelle's kids got sick, they were arguing with their parents to go to school. Parents were amazed at their children's new love for school.
At the parents' request, Miss Annabelle started recording her lectures so sick children who missed school could listen to the lectures at home.
That same month, the parents began asking Miss Annabelle if they could make a copy of her lectures on cassette tape for themselves. They would pass around Miss Annabelle's original cassette tape and copy her lectures for themselves. They really enjoyed the General Lecture, her first lecture each morning before the specific lectures on math, science, history, and literature. But the parents' enthusiasm, like all adults in this world in which our dreams fade, never reached the level of their eight and nine-year-olds. For, their children, who were learning to see through appearances and illusions to the essence of things, sensed they would someday make their dreams come true.
Some adults had not given up, however. One evening when Miss Annabelle was walking toward her car, she noticed Teddy and his dad in the playground adjacent to the parking lot. They were throwing a football when they spotted Miss Annabelle.
"There she is, dad," Teddy said, giving away his father's ulterior motive for being there.
"Isn't it a little dark for football guys?" Miss Annabelle said with a chuckle, putting him at ease. "Hello, Mr. Winters."
"I'm so pleased to meet you, Miss Annabelle. My son has never loved school like he does now. I want to thank you for that...and for myself, too. I listen to the tapes of your General Lectures. Miss Annabelle, you have a special gift to see things differently."
"Not really," she said modestly. "I just learned how to see through appearances to the essence of things. And your son is learning how to do this, too. My hope is that someday he makes wonderful values for the world and lots of money and happiness for himself."
"He believes in you. I can see your gift growing in my son...growing every day."
Miss Annabelle stopped walking; she turned and looked directly into Mr. Winters' eyes. "I normally don't say this to parents...but, it can happen to you, too."
"Yes...I want more. My life is like a trap of stagnation. My job is a routine rut...year after year. There's got to be more!"
Miss Annabelle studied his eyes further. Then she said, "There is more, and I'll tell you how to get it. I don't know your specific situation, but in general, success in every area of life comes by piercing through whatever appears to be, to what is -- to the essence. Take your job and mine, for example. From what I've learned in my job, I would tell you to look past the stagnant responsibilities of your job, because they're misleading and not, in the end, what makes the business work, not what the business really demands. Forget about the managers, like I forget about my staff. They'll lead you either to miserable stagnation...or failure. I ask myself, what does educating a child demand, what's the essence? Let me tell you: it's not what meets the eye or what staff or managers tell you. When I started teaching, I was told, more or less, to teach the children to integrate effectively in society. Sounded good, like what appears to be good education, but the year of my awakening I learned to look past appearances to what is...in my case, to what teaching really is: to teach the children how to someday build magnificent values that a lot of people want to buy, which starts by teaching them how to think for themselves, how to see past appearances to the essence of things. By doing that, my students will start integrating substantial thoughts that hold together because they're down past powerless illusions, down to what is...where the power is. There, they'll have the power to build clusters of substantial thoughts and ideas to eventually create values for the world and experience the excitement and happiness of their accomplishments, not to mention the wealth from selling their values...just as you can.
"So, like I asked myself, you must now ask yourself, what does the business demand, what's its essence? You must look past the stagnant responsibilities handed to you, past all that to the essence of the business, which can always be reached in any job. What is the essence of the business? I'd say, to make money. How is money made in the business you work for? You must learn and absorb those responsibilities, Mr. Winters. Then, you're where the power is. Instead of just doing your boring routine rut and dreaming about a better life, you'll start putting together potent thoughts that count, that stick together and grow because they have to do with making money. At the essence of business -- where the money is made -- you'll feel the excitement of creating values and really living."
Miss Annabelle noticed that both Teddy's father and Teddy, too, listened intensely. Then Mr. Winters spoke in the tone of a man who just experienced an epiphany, "Learn and absorb the money-making responsibilities. Why, yes! What I do now at work has nothing to do with making money, nothing at all. ...But how do you suppose I'd take over those money-making responsibilities?"
"Go to where the power is -- down to the essence," she said, so simply. "The essence of each money-making responsibility would be the nitty-gritty details it's made of. From my experience, most people don't like doing nitty-gritty details. If some eager, capable person came along, willing to soak up those unpleasant details, I'm sure he wouldn't be stopped. Before long, once he's got the details, he'll soak up the entire responsibility, too. No one even needs to know what's going on as you ferret your way to where the power is."
Mr. Winters and his son both looked as if they were thinking some daring thoughts. Miss Annabelle smiled at the two of them and concluded, "None of this is too difficult to do if you remember to answer to the essences. That's what I answer to, and that's why I am who I am and why Teddy's so motivated in my class."
*
"I feel like I'm gaining the keys to success and learning the secrets of life," Jake said, interrupting the story being told. "How could anyone have a problem with that!"
"That toad started it all," Angie said in disgust.
"Burke?" Jake guessed.
"Yeah," Jessie said shaking his head. "While Miss Annabelle was creating little geniuses for the world and helping their parents, one jerk was quietly spreading cancer seeds throughout the staff. Seeds grow, you know. In retrospect, had I known it back then, I would've scared that loser right out of town."
"My husband's right. Being rejected by Miss Annabelle, Burke went on a quiet mission of revenge; none of us knew it. He quietly told a handful of staff members, privately on an individual basis so no one could pinpoint the source that started those rumors, that Miss Annabelle had been talking about the act of sex to her students. He took her valuable discussion out of context and made it seem perverted."
"What a bastard," Jessie said under his breath.
"It's hard to recover from this type of accusation, even if it's completely false," Angie continued. "Soon, the staff started talking among themselves. Miss Annabelle came under suspect. The principal summoned her class recordings, which unfortunately had not yet started by the day of her valuable lecture on love. With tainted, preconceived notions, the principal concluded that the new teacher was strange and needed to be monitored."
"The thought that Miss Annabelle had done something wrong made everything she did that was brilliant with the kids be looked at like it did not belong -- like something weird, something too different," Jessie said.
"After all, the public school's definition of an education was to prepare the children to fit in." Angie said. "And Miss Annabelle was different -- she was not about to teach her kids to conform."
"Besides, the principal of the school at the time was a mean-spirited woman who seemed to hate kids," Jessie said. "I noticed she didn't like Miss Annabelle. How could she? Miss Annabelle represented the child. She was everything good and wonderful the principal was not. Miss Annabelle was the essence of happiness. The principal was the essence of misery. Miss Annabelle reflected the beauty in life. The principal reflected the ugliness in life."
"So, Ms. Minner was quick to dig into the rumors with `grave concern'." Angie said. "The rumors now escalated into an investigation and got on the agenda of the school board meeting. The negative thoughts about Miss Annabelle were spreading fast. And envy fanned the flames. Here was an opportunity to tie down her free spirit."
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