“I’ll only be a minute,” I said, and darted off down the hallway to the stairs. I ran back toward the main entrance, past parents waiting outside classroom doors for their appointments. I expected, at any moment, to be told to stop running in the halls. I assumed the office would be near the front of the school, and I was right. Since this was an open-house kind of evening, the door to the office was unlocked and the lights were on. I stood at the counter and called out, “Anyone here?”

A short, middle-aged man in a dark suit who I assumed was the principal poked his head out of an adjoining office. “Yes?”

“Sorry, but would you have a phone book I could borrow for a sec?”

He looked puzzled, but nodded, went over to a desk, found one, and brought it over to the counter. I flipped it open to the back, found “W,” flipped through the pages for the Walker listings. I ran my finger down the dozens and dozens of Walkers, down through the alphabet. For every letter, there were several Walkers. I scanned right to the end, found a slew of “Walker W’s,” not one “Walker X,” a couple of “Walker Y’s,” and then I found my own listing. “Walker Z,” followed by our address and phone number.

There was only one “Walker Z.”

“Shit,” I said.

“Pardon?” said the principal. I didn’t bother to close the book before turning around and running back down the hall, up the stairs, and down the corridor where I’d left Paul, expecting to see him waiting his turn to see Ms. Wilton. But he was gone.

I looked into the classroom and there he was, sitting across from his teacher. I swept into the room, breathless.

“Sorry,” I said. “Really sorry. Sorry I’m late.” I extended a hand to Ms. Wilton, who took it reluctantly and smiled grimly. I grabbed a chair. “So, listen, really, sorry, but thank you for making time for this meeting.”

“Of course.”

“So, what’s the problem with Paul here?”

“Well, first of all,” said Ms. Wilton, opening a binder and examining a chart with all sorts of numbers and checkmarks and notes on it, “Paul seems to have a problem getting to class on time. He’s rushing in at the last minute, which causes a real disruption to the class, especially when everyone else is settled in.”

It was pretty hot in there, especially after all the running I’d done. I pushed my chair back, causing it to squeak against the floor, to allow myself room to work my jacket off. “Just hang on a second,” I said, struggling to free myself from one sleeve while in a sitting position. Once I had the jacket off, I slipped it over the back of the chair. “You were saying?”

“When Paul comes to class late, it can cause a disruption to the class.”