Chapter 7

Everything, he reflected on the school, was designed to elicit nostalgia. Nothing about the school had changed since the seventies, he guessed, except maybe the secretary. Heck, he hoped she hadn’t been a former student, he thought as he passed and reached for the door. He’d hate to think of anyone being forced to work in their old high school.

The wooden door of the office noisily opened as he reached for it, and the shape of the school’s principal, Mr. Abe, straight-backed and bespectacled, blocked his path, silencing the disparate thoughts rattling about in his head.

“Mr. Calohan,” the older man said.

Jude nodded.

“Mr. Abe.”

They waited like that for a moment, the teacher unwilling to let him in and Jude refusing to go.

“You better come in then,” the other man said eventually, as if their confrontation had been verbal.