An Old-Fashioned Education by Fiona Wilde Read Free Book Online Page B

spent the lunch hour with her nose in a corner. But as she headed to an empty table in the back of the dining hall, she didn’t know if she had any appetite for the food on her tray. Even the children who had come over to speak to her that morning stuck close to their parents.
    Polly pushed the food around on her tray, the lump in her throat too large to allow anything else to pass.
    “You need to eat something, Polly.”
    She looked up, surprised. Polly had not even heard Walt Springer approaching.
    “I’m not hungry,” she said, pushing the tray away. He sat down across from her and slid it back in front of her.
    “I’m afraid refusing food is not an option in this community unless a person is sick. We aren’t a wasteful people.” He nodded towards the tray. “Eat.”
    When she didn’t immediately comply, he leaned towards her.
    “Eat or be spanked over my lap. Your choice.”
    Her face reddened deeply. She could see others glancing in their direction. She was sure they could tell he was scolding her. Polly picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of chicken.
    “You’ll thank me tomorrow when you have enough energy to teach your class.”
    She swallowed the bite of food and stared at him in disbelief. “Mr. Springer, you surely don’t expect me to be able to continue to teach here. The parents hate me now. Even the kids are distant. I quit.”
    “No, you don’t,” he said. “If you don’t work, you don’t eat.”
    She shoved the tray back to him, angry now.
    “Fine,” she said. “I’d rather starve. I don’t want to be here anyway.”
    She rose and rushed from the main hall, Walt Springer following. He did not quicken his pace. The community had seen enough drama this day to set tongues wagging for months. They hardly needed more. Besides, how far could she get in the snow?
    The answer was not far at all. There was nearly a foot on the ground and it was starting to come down again. Even with sheepskin-lined waterproof boots and thick socks her feet were cold within minutes. Each breath of cold air she took burned her lungs. The only warmth came from the tears coursing down her cheeks.
    “Polly,” he called after her.
    She glanced back over her shoulder. “Leave me alone!”
    “Polly!”
    She stopped, knowing he was just going to catch her if she kept going. He walked around to stand in front of her.
    “Look,” he said. “I know this isn’t easy.”
    “Don’t pretend to commiserate, Mr. Springer,” she said, her voice quavering with anger. “You’re not the one who’s been beaten. I am. And don’t tell me that it’s okay because everyone here accepts it. You should have disclosed this community’s beliefs and practices before you called me out here. I never, ever would have come if I’d known this would happen to me. In fact, I can see now why your wife left!”
    The look of hurt on Walt Springer’s face was not as satisfying as she’d thought it would be. In fact, it made Polly feel even worse for taking a cheap shot when he was clearly trying to be more understanding.
    “That was part of it, yes,” he said. “When we came here she was in full support of what we were doing. But then she changed. She decided it wasn’t for her and left me and the kids.”
    “You wouldn’t change it to keep her?” Polly asked.
    Walt looked down. “I never got the chance. She took off in the middle of the night. I think she just … snapped. But you have to understand something, Polly. My wife loved our children. She knew the community’s philosophies were no longer for her but trust me; if she thought they were bad or dangerous, she’d have never have left the kids.”
    “But why did she leave them?”
    “The note she left said they would be safer here. She knew she had a lot to learn on the outside. Their friends are here, everything they know.”
    “Has she been in contact with them?”
    He shook his head. “No, and that’s the hardest part, for me and for them. I know here in my