After completing the tour, we thank Mr. Howard as he sees us to the door and wishes us good luck on the rest of our exploration of Kingsbrook.

“What did you think?” I ask as Caitlyn and I stroll down the path, back to the sidewalk while holding hands.

“I don’t like him. He’s mean.”

“Mr. Howard? Really? Why do you think he’s mean?”

“Not him.”

“Then … who are you talking about, sweetheart?”

“… No one.”

I want her to tell me. I feel like I need her to. I’m sure she’s nervous about a new school and she might let her imagination run wild to deal with it, but I don’t want her going into school and telling stories about someone being mean to her. Just like I don’t want her telling stories about people robbing banks.

“Caitlyn, who are you talking about?”

She hesitates, and then answers, “Mr. Carrington.”

“The man in the photo?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he is.”

Sure, I guess the guy looked like he may have been intimidating, and I suppose it’s better if she’s making up stories about people who are long gone, but I should still nip this in the bud before it gets out of hand.

“Well, we don’t know that, okay? He might have been nice.”

“No. He was mean.”

“Caitlyn, you never met him and it’s not fair to call someone mean or names if you don’t know them.”

“But I know him.”

“Caitlyn, stop.”

We take a few more steps towards the street.

“But you called that guy a ‘jerk’ and you’ve never met him.”

“What guy?”

“The baseball guy. When you were putting together the TV thing. You called him a ‘jerk’ and you haven’t met him.”

“I don’t remember saying anyone was— oh …”

She’s talking about my little outburst at the Cubs’ relief pitcher who blew a two-run lead while I was putting together the entertainment center. Had she not been there, I would have called him worse.

“Well, pumpkin, that’s … that’s different.”

She stops and looks up at me. “How?”

“Because … I was talking about …” My argument fizzles out and she’s waiting with those innocent, puzzled eyes.

I sigh. “You’re right. I shouldn’t do that.”

She seems content with my answer and we resume walking back towards the sidewalk at the end of the path.

Now, I really hate that relief pitcher not only for blowing the save, but also for blowing my teaching moment.

8

Our next stop is Concord Elementary.

The school sits on the outskirts of town, nestled against the forest. It consists of a large brick building and a handful of smaller buildings that have been added as the town grew, and are connected by hallways. It gives the school the appearance of a living organism.