Down to Earth Reckoning! by Andrea Lena DiMaggio   Consider the flowers of the field in their beauty More lovely than even the clothes of a king Consider the birds of the air Flying high, flying free You are precious to me

This story is a continuation of A Question of Balance. Thus far: Three women, centuries old and practitioners of Draihoidel, the old arts, had come along side a girl in desperate need of understanding and encouragement. Each had taken the form of mortals to influence three souls close to the girl. The fourth member of the group, the girl’s brother had been a practitioner of the old arts for only a few days. The women have returned to help the family once again, along with others that need the healing that only love can provide...

“Dave…it’s my birthday tomorrow…her birthday…I miss her so much…”

He smiled at her as she gazed into his eyes, finally accepting the gift that she had been given long ago. The package that lay unopened in her heart was torn apart and the wonderful blessing within bestowed to a desperate, sad, and lonely woman. As she looked into his face she felt a warmth that had never been; an acceptance that she had never experienced. He pulled her closer and kissed her gently on the lips; romantic in a small way, but a part of the greater blessing of mercy and love that transcends. And for the first time in lifetime, Phyllis Jenkins knew what love was all about.

School Board emergency meeting…Friday evening….

“I’m sure we can all agree that this meeting is in the best interest of the children.” Superintendent Carlyle said turning to the panel. The school board was in quorum even if they were a bit short. Only five of the seven members were in attendance.

“Now, Mr. Lambert, Donald, we have some questions we’d like to ask you.”

“Before we go any further, I’d like to state for the record that in addressing me as Mr. Lambert instead of my name, Diane Lambert, it appears that you have already determined the outcome of this meeting. My legal name is Diane Lambert, and yet you insist on using my former name in these proceedings, which I believe is a violation of my human rights as well as policy.”

“I apologize,” Martina Carlotti said, leaning over the table. “Ms. Lambert, would you mind saying something to add to the letter you sent to the board; perhaps a word of explanation so that we can understand what your intent is?”

“My intention is to fulfill my responsibilities to the board and to the school as a guidance counselor at the High School.” Diane blew out a breath. She had debated wearing the skirt that accompanied the suit she wore, but felt it might be a bit provocative. Trudy argued unsuccessfully that Diane needed to be free to wear whatever she wanted, but ‘common sense’ prevailed and Diane stood before the board in slacks and a shirt-like blouse, looking almost androgynous.

“No one questions your commitment to your job. It is troubling that you received a negative review this past quarter.” Diane’s eyes grew wide as Robert Newsome held up a bunch of papers, waving them slightly as if to indict her. She went to pick the microphone up to respond but a voice from the back spoke up.

“I can answer that.” Phyllis Jenkins walked to the podium and stood next to Diane, who looked at her, puzzled.

“May I,” she said quietly to Diane, a smile on her face that had replaced the smirk she usually wore.

“The report is erroneous, filled with misstatements and inaccuracies.” She said almost in a whisper.

“Excuse me, Ms. Jenkins, but didn’t you write the report?” Ms. Carlotti asked with a confused grin.

“Yes, I wrote the report, but it is, as I said, erroneous.” She shook her head slightly and lowered her gaze.

“One moment,” the Superintendent said before covering the microphone. He turned to each side and spoke quietly. Diane leaned closer to Phyllis and said,

“What’s going on? I thought?” She asked nervously.

“Well…you thought wrong, Diane.” She smiled, but there were tears in her eyes and she shook slightly. She grabbed the podium and tapped the microphone.

“If I may explain?” All of the board members turned to each other and after a few nods focused their attention on the podium in front of them.

“I wrote the report in haste, without due consideration before submitting it. Ms. Lambert has done an exemplary job in providing our children with the utmost courtesy and regard to their various academic and emotional needs. I wrote the report without having all the facts, and I was influenced to a great deal by the advice of someone who has since been discredited.” A few murmurs and some head shakes before Superintendant Carlyle spoke again.

“And who would that someone be, Ms. Jenkins?” His tone was demanding and annoyed.

“That would be me, Sir. I let some preconceptions and bias sway my opinion of Ms. Lambert, and I want it be in the record that I formally recant my report. The report was filed without consulting my supervisor, Marion Langhorne, whom you know is attending a conference. At this time, I’d like to extend my apologies to Ms. Lambert and her family for all the trouble I have caused. I apologize as well to the board for taking up your valuable time, and at the same time I would like to tender my resignation as Assistant Principal, effective immediately.” She put her head down and placed her hand over her face for a moment before turning to Diane.

“I...I am so sorry, Diane…Please forgive me?” She went to turn away but Diane grabbed her arm softly and beckoned her closer. She stepped closer, tentatively and allowed Diane to hug her; allowing reluctantly while looking away, as if to satisfy Diane’s need to extend forgiveness while maintaining her belief that she deserved none. Diane pulled her closer.

“It’s okay, Phyllis…I understand. If I’m worth saving, then you are, too. I forgive you…I just hope you can forgive yourself.” Phyllis looked into her eyes and shook her head.

“How could you possible know…who told you?” She wasn’t so much resentful as embarrassed and ashamed that Diane could know about her story. A voice from the board interrupted them.

“You told me the other day…you spoke angrily to me, but your eyes…they spoke fear…for my sake, it felt. Like you were really just worried about my decision.” Diane had no idea where that came from; it almost felt like she sensed the un-sensible.

“I finally figured out where my treasure lies.” Diane looked at her and smiled and nodded as she finished,

“I…It’s a long story…I’ll have to tell you sometime,” she said between sobs.

“That’s all well and good, Ms. Jenkins, but we still have a matter her to dispose of regarding Ms. Lambert’s continued violation of school policy; specifically by encouraging students to dress in a provocative manner and then there’s the unsanctioned scheduling of controversial speakers for assemblies.

“If I may, I think I can help here.” Paul Giambrone strode forward.

“Who are you, and what is your business here; this is a closed meeting.

“First of all, I’m an employee of the school, which you should know, since you hired me, Mr. Carlyle. My name is Paul Giambrone; I coach and teach Phys. Ed. and Gym at the high school. My business, which should be the business of everyone here, is to see that Diane gets a fair shake; something I fear would be lacking in a so-called closed meeting.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but it is board policy.” Carlyle was getting abrupt.

“It may be board policy, but it’s against state law, Robert.” Yet another voice interrupted the proceedings as Marion Langhorne stepped to the podium.

“And so is holding a meeting ad hoc when the agenda is personnel discipline. The immediate supervisor is supposed to be in attendance to allow the personnel to discuss the issues openly.”

“You were out of town and….”

“And you knew I’d be coming tomorrow. This meeting could have waited until Monday. There was no emergency, and frankly I resent your decision to move ahead without me. If you had bothered to answer any of the e-mails I’ve sent over the past week, you’d have learned I was coming this evening. Oh, and by the way, the only condition allowing for an emergency personnel meeting is if there is a serious breach of policy. Clearly here there wasn’t.”

“But Ms. Jenkins’s report? “

“Oh, hell, Robert, she just explained what happened, and you seem to have carefully ignored all the commendations and letters from parents in Ms. Lambert’s file.” Marion turned to Phyllis while the board members once again began to talk amongst themselves.

“And you and I will be having a talk in my office first thing Monday morning!”

“But I…I just ….you’ll find my resignation on your desk Monday.” Phyllis turned away, almost looking for a way of escape.

“Found it there just before I came over here…I ripped it up. You can’t quit on me, Phyllis because I won’t quit on you, okay. Dave Ackerman e-mailed me this morning…I know…I know…’he had no right,’ is what you’ll tell him…he’s waiting outside for you, dear, and I suggest you make nice to him, too, while you’re at it.”

“If you’re finished talking, folks, I’ve got something to show you, okay?” Marion nearly shouted into the microphone. The board members looked up just in time to see the door to the meeting room open once again as student after student poured into the hall; each wearing clothing which would be more suited to the gender opposite their own. Petey Carlucci and Patty and Mike McCarthy entered first, all three wearing nice skirts and tops and sweaters. Then one-by-one they were joined by nearly one fourth of the student body. Mr. Carlyle banged his oft-used gavel and protested,

“This is a closed meeting.”

“By the regulations and laws we previously cited, Robert, this is an illegal meeting, and thereby cannot be a closed meeting.

Several boys from the baseball team came dressed in prom gowns. A few girls came dressed in boys clothes, which they had ‘girled up.’ The drama club came dressed in their costumes for, of all things, Twelfth Night. One girl came dressed as Abe Lincoln, complete with beard. And at least half the faculty came dressed as well.

“There’s nothing wrong with all of these folks, is there, Robert?”

“No, Marion…I suppose there’s not.” He hit the gavel on the stand once more before saying,

“This meeting is concluded.”

A chorus of cheers filled the room as one lone figure held back by the front door. Marion pulled on Diane’s sleeve and pointed to the solitary figure in the wheel chair.

“It was her idea. She did all the research regarding policy and law, and she called every single family and employee the last several days, including me. Where she got my private cell I don’t know, but I’m awfully glad she did. I can’t imagine how we’d manage without you.” Diane made her way to the back and knelt down, almost in the exact manner she had when she and Trudy first met years before.

“You did this for me?” A statement rather than a question until Trudy answered.

“I did this for us, sweetie. I love you so much and I am so proud of you.” She smiled and began to cry. Diane pulled her almost out of her chair and embraced her and kissed her tears.

“And I love you. Let’s go home, okay?”

“Like I said…first thing Monday…and you’ve got bus traffic in the afternoon for the rest of the year, do I make myself clear?” Marion smiled and Phyllis nodded. Marion took two steps toward the front of the hall before turning one last time.

“Oh…and Phyllis?”

“Yes?”

“Happy Birthday.”

Phyllis picked up her purse from the podium and made her way to the door. She spotted Dave Ackerman standing by the door way and picked up her pace. Part of her wished to make a hasty exit, but part of her wanted to confront him. No matter how well things turned out, she was upset with him over what he had told Marion. As she got to the door, she stopped and began to laugh as the crowd by the door dissipated to reveal a very tall girl in a USA Olympics Women Basketball team uniform…that is to say a moderately tall Dave Ackerman in the uniform. He was leaning on the door frame trying to look nonchalant.

“Best I could do…I borrowed it from my sister Val.” He shrugged his shoulders as Phyllis stepped closer to him.

“I don’t know if I should be angry with you or pleased,” she said, taking his arm.

“I’m sorry…I…” He stammered. She touched his cheek with her hand; another new thing for her as she said,

“I know, Dave…Thank you.”

“Well, I suppose this is payback for last year, right?” Robert Carlyle said as Marion stepped up to the desk.

“You know it is, Robert. We’ll get you this year, alright?” Marion said, referring to the annual BOE vs. school budget meeting.

“I’m sorry…I guess I was wrong about her.” He surprised himself with the use of the feminine pronoun.

“Yes you were, but I forgive you. You always were so opinionated and headstrong. These people need our support and encouragement and not condemnation. I hope you at least got that out of this?" He nodded and put his head down before she said,

"You gonna be at Mom’s for dinner on Sunday?”

“Yes?”

“You know what they say about family and friends, Robert?” He shook his head no.

“You can pick your friends….Don’t worry…I still love you.”

“Well, kids, I guess we should be headin’ home, aye?” Breena McCarthy smiled at Mike and Patty. Patty was hugging her girlfriend Chelsea and Mike sat in a chair looking a bit forlorn until a girl came up to him.

“I think what you did for Ms. Lambert is just wonderful.” Doreen Connelly stood with Mika Sinkowitz, both resplendent in jeans and sweat shirts with their hair pinned under their baseball caps. Doreen handed Mike a piece of paper and kissed his cheek before walking away slowly. It read,

“Dinner at my house…tomorrow…wear something ….pretty.”

Breena looked back and forth between the two before turning to Paul Giambrone.

“I best be going…would you mind taking me home?”

“Of course…may I…” Paul paused for a moment before continuing.

“May I see you again?” He smiled at her and she smiled back; a rare moment soon to gain more frequency as Breena McCarthy made the third most important decision in her life and said,

“That you may, Mr. Paul Giambrone; that you may!”

And in the back of the room, almost hovering, but not quite were three women. Looking down, they spotted two young ladies in their twenties sitting close toward the back. One wore an lilac cowl neck with sleeves pulled up to reveal a white blouse. She wore a light brown corduroy skirt and brown boots. Her red hair set off her lovely green eyes. Her friend...companion, really, was blond and petite and wore a charcoal cardigan over a royal blue shirt-waist dress, also in corduroy with black boots. The two had their heads together and were smiling and laughing.

"Who are those two...are they our next assignment?" Orla asked Calleigh, who smiled and shook her head no. Fiona tilted her head and Siohbhan laughed softly.

"That's Heather and her girlfriend Zoe. Distant 'relatives' if you take my meaning. They may be helping out from time to time. You know the kind of tasks we have...balladeers...they sing into existence the strength some of our charges may need, if you recall? But we've got work to do here yet, dears. Before we go, we have some partings to arrange and a new beginning."

"I thought we aren't supposed to interfere, Calleigh? What makes this different?" Orla asked as Fiona nodded her head.

"Oh, no, sweet girl...we won't be doin' anything except plannin' a party. We've got some celebratin' to do."

If a child asks her father on earth for fish or for bread
Who among you would give her a snake or a stone?
How much more does the Father above
Have a heart full of love
For the children that He calls His own?

Where your treasure is
There is your heart
Where your treasure is
There is your heart
There is your heart

Next: Goodbyes and Hello

Treasure
words and music by
the performing band,
Iona
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ssqrc5pE1Sc
http://www.iona.uk.com/

And for all of you folks who read all the way to the end, a special Bonus track:

Dervish, singing Boots of Spanish Leather
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KNFRvQrvLtM&feature=related