Melanie Travis 06 - Hush Puppy by Laurien Berenson Read Free Book Online

thought you might have the time to take a look through some of our archives in the basement.”
    “I’d be happy to,” I said. This was the first I’d heard of such a collection.
    “It seems Honoria Howard was a bit of a pack rat.” Russell frowned slightly, as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d described one of the school’s illustrious founders in such unflattering terms. “There are several dozen boxes stored in a rather shabby little room downstairs. I’ve never had occasion to sort through them myself, but I understand they contain all manner of records: correspondence, invoices, and perhaps even some photographs that pertain to the academy’s early years. I was hoping you might come across something that would hasten the committee on its way.”
    Hasten? I thought. Was that what he’d said? I knew the word existed, but I’d never actually heard it used in conversation before. Just for kicks, I tried it out myself.
    “I’d be delighted to hasten things along any way I can.”
    “Good.” Russell reached in his pocket and produced a key. “There are a number of entrances to the lower level. You’ll find the most convenient one in the front hall, tucked in the back beneath the stairs. The storeroom you’re looking for is beneath the southwest corner of the building.
    “I’m told there’s a table in the room, and there should be ample lighting for your purposes. Of course, you may feel free to bring anything upstairs that you wish to examine further. Krebbs informs me that the door is customarily kept locked, so I’ve had an extra key made. You may return it to me at your leisure when the project is finished.”
    I pocketed the key and turned to leave. Russell, however, remained where he was. “Is there something else?” I asked.
    The headmaster’s frown had returned. “First bell rings for assembly at precisely eight-forty-five. Not unreasonably, we expect our teachers to be in their classrooms, with their coats off and their day planned by then.”
    “Yes sir,” I said without a trace of sarcasm. First bell had been ringing as I’d come through the back door. Now I could hear the sound of the students beginning to fill the upper hallway. Assembly had just let out. I tucked my coat behind my back. “That’s not a problem.”
    “Quite right,” Russell agreed mildly. He turned and walked away down the hall.
    This is my first year teaching at Howard Academy and, so far, it’s been an interesting experience. The students are different than those I’d encountered in the public-school system, and their problems sometimes make me feel as though I’ve stepped into the setting of a Jane Austen novel. Asked to have a substandard test signed by a parent and returned the next day, I was given a choice between accepting the nanny’s signature or receiving a fax from the parents who were vacationing in Bruges. What the hell, I thought, and opted for the fax. It was probably as close as I was going to get to Belgium anytime soon.
    I’m a tutor, not a classroom teacher, so by the time a student gets shifted into my special help program a problem has already been identified. Usually it’s something simple and a bit of extra attention is all it takes to get things back on track. Because the needs of the children change constantly, so does my schedule, and I enjoy the freedom that gives me.
    Russell had been entirely correct. I often have periods during the school day when nothing is scheduled. That morning I had one at ten-thirty. Curious now about what I might find, I used it to head down to the basement.
    The main building at Howard Academy is a turn-of-the-century stone mansion, built in opulent times by a man to whom money was no object. Over the years, the salons and drawing rooms have been converted to more functional classrooms, but much of the charm of the mansion remains. This is especially true in the front entrance hall with its burnished hardwood floor, dramatic split staircase, and