Slow Burn - Part 2 (My Original Short Stories)

A beautifully painted artist’s impression of the famous Lions Gate Bridge hung on the outer wall of Nathan Reichart’s office. Intricately detailed water effects and subtle isometric techniques gave the viewer a real sense of perspective. A skill probably sharpened from years of steadfast labour and dedicated craftsmanship. A soothing, hypnotic vision to the casual eye. Dwayne had never really paid any attention to it's beauty until now.   

Murmurings could be heard through the wall. Dwayne fidgeted in his seat whilst looking fixatedly at the grey matt carpet under his shoes. He was trying to piece together the events of the day. But the more he attempted to shuffle them into some sort of ordered sequence, the more fragmented his thoughts became.

How to explain the unexplainable? What possible reasoning could justify such a destructive consequence? The red capillaries distended through the whites of his eyes as he grew more anxious by the second. 

Finally, some movement behind the blurry glass of the office door.  He mentally prepared and readied himself for his presumed confrontation with Nathan. A combination of stress, provocation and insomnia forced his actions to an unfortunate end. That was putting it mildly, he knew. But stick to his story he must. 

His phone vibrated softly in his trouser pocket. Angrily, he withdrew it and switched it off. “One problem at a time, Dwayne.” he said calmly to himself. The door opened and out stepped Jarvis looking almost robotically neutral. Dwayne looked up at him timidly, as if repentant for some sacred broken sin, but all that was returned was a bitter glance. “Jarvis?” he called out in a stifled drawl. Nothing. He proceeded to march out of the room at which time Nathan called his name. “Dwayne? You may come in now.” 

His guts churned like a well-oiled mill as he nervously approached the office. He was trying to recall any issues that Jarvis and he had, to which he could find none. Then again, he didn’t exactly classify themselves as best buddies either, more social colleagues at best. 

He paused at the open door. “Nathan?” The tall slender figure of Mr. Reichart got up out of his chair whilst beckoning to Dwayne to take a seat. The office desk was a showpiece of organised pride. Apart from the telephone and a stack of neatly piled files at each corner, just a single sheet of paper with a ballpoint pen lay in its centre. He was as co-ordinated as he was slick in his presentation. A good few years his junior as well. Everybody was well aware of the inferiority complexes his fellow colleagues harboured when positioned next to him. Yet Dwayne secretly hated every inch of his being for it.

Nathan closed the office door quietly and was promptly returning to his seat. “Nathan, could I just start by saying…” He halted abruptly and motioned with a palm in the air for silence. Dwayne diligently did as he was told. He then proceeded to take out a small Dictaphone tape recorder from his jacket pocket and place it on the desk next to Dwayne. Lightly pressing the record button, he sat down in his office chair and began.

“So, Dwayne, thank you for attending our previously scheduled meeting. Though now perhaps, under slightly different conditions to before.” he said with a smirk.

Dwayne stared at the recorder. “What’s this for, Nathan? You’re taping me?”

He let out a deep sigh. “Well, I think it’s necessary for me to possess my own personal transcript of our little conversation today. I do hope you don’t mind as it might actually end up working out in your favour.”

Dwayne considered this for a moment before half-heartedly nodding his head in agreement. As if he even had a choice in the matter, he thought. If all he had to cling to was Nathan and his word of trust, he was in more trouble than he could have ever anticipated.

“Right then.” Nathan said in an altogether sombre tone. “I don’t have to tell you that you’re in a lot of trouble. Jarvis told me he came into the classroom after you had the altercation with Ms. Bailey. I’m I correct?”

Dwayne nodded again slowly. “Could you speak up a little, Dwayne?” Nathan asked, gesturing at the tape recorder. 

“Erm, yes, I believe he came into the room afterwards.”

“You believe? So you not entirely sure then?” Nathan inquired with a look of concern. 

“I think so. I mean it was all such a blur. Listen Nathan, can you level with me please? Am I being dismissed or suspended for what happened today?”

“We’ll come to that later. Firstly though, I must say I find it very troubling that you don’t seem to remember if Jarvis was there or not. In fact, for the last fortnight or so, you seem to be getting more and more distant. This is the third time in the last week you were late coming in again and frankly I was already considering giving you a formal warning. But after the unfolding of recent events, things have taken a much more serious turn as I’m sure you’d agree.” 

Dwayne tried to swallow but all he felt was a dry tug against his palate. The butterflies were playing merry hell in his belly now. ”Nathan, it wasn’t my fault completely. Please believe me, ask the other students. I was being provoked and taunted and lashed out in a terrible manner. I completely understand and take full responsibility for my actions. But I need this job. I’m begging you, Nathan. Suspend me if you must but don’t fire me. I’m pleading with you. I’ll lose everything I have because of it. I’m just going through a really bad phase right now but I’m in the middle of sorting it all out, I promise you.” His eyes started to brim with tears but Nathan just looked back at him nonchalantly.

“It’s not about keeping your job or sustaining your livelihood anymore, Dwayne. I originally called you for a meeting this morning for a much more pressing matter. You see, Ms. Bailey has accused you of trying to sexually assault her.”

Dwayne sat there, stunned and speechless. Today was now officially ranked as the worst day of his life. 

Nathan waited a few seconds before raising his eyebrows in expectation. “Well?”

Surprised back into reality, he escaped from his temporary trance as if commanded by Nathan. “Well, what? It’s obviously a lie. I was having problems with her ever since I called her in for detention last week and now this is her way of exacting revenge against me. Of course I didn’t assault her, Nathan. She has been a constant disruption to the class and you know full well I’ve made my feelings very clear on this matter in the past.”

“It’s a simple case of your word against hers. Well, that was the state of affairs this morning anyway. Now, though, you actually have assaulted her. Physically. Especially after the allegations she made about you just yesterday afternoon, the timing of today’s incident couldn’t be any worse.” Dwayne clenched his fists under the desk. Nathan wasn’t making this any easier for him. In fact, he may even have been enjoying it, he thought.  

“Nathan, I’ve worked here for over three years. Never has any complaint ever been received about me, never have I given you reason to question me in my role as high school teacher. I have an impeccable track record here. Doesn’t that carry any weight in my favour?” His palms became clammy and slippery from the pressure exerted onto them by his fingers.

Nathan leaned forward over the desk slowly and focused in on Dwayne, hard eyed. “Well, as I recall correctly, I did question you this morning, didn’t I? So do we count that as nothing more than a simple blemish on an otherwise untarnished run here at Scottsdale? Your erratic behaviour has been a real worry for me lately. Others working here have noticed this too so given our current predicament with young Ms. Bailey, it’s something I cannot take lightly of course. I hope you understand.” He eased back into his chair, face still frozen in an expression of concern.

Seething with rage, Dwayne felt like a cornered animal ripe for the slaughter. After all his dutiful loyalty and constant hardworking efforts put into this institution, he was being repaid in distrust, betrayal and hypocrisy. In a fit of rage, he slammed his fists onto the table, flaring up in anger. 

“Jarvis? Was it that fucking Jarvis? He doesn’t know me, nobody here does! This bitch spews bullshit accusations about me and all of you believe her? Is that what you all think of me behind my back? Well, I for one hope she gets raped in some ally! If that's what she wants then that’s what she deserves, that fucking bitch!”

Nathan held on to the arms of his chair, in complete and utter shock, eyes wide and filled with horror. Dwayne hunched over in his chair looking at him, panting like some crazed dog. 

“You, er… You finshed yet?” was the only response Nathan could muster, wondering whether his outburst had ceased.

Dwayne squeezed his eyelids tightly shut. A scant few seconds of lost control possibly leading to years of repentance. The final curtain call. He lazily opened them again and gave Nathan a resigned look, peace being restored. Rock bottom was the destination and he had well and truly arrived in style.

Nathan got up and reached a long arm across the desk. For a split second, Dwayne wondered what he was doing but then the final twist in the tail made its presence known. He grabbed the tape recorder. Pressing the stop button, he slid it into his jacket pocket and looked gravely up at Dwayne.

“You’re done here for now. Go home and we’ll contact you shortly.” With nothing more to say or do, Dwayne solemnly got up and shuffled towards the door. A broken man in mind, body and spirit. His cognizance was a blank canvas, getting ready to ink out the bleak future that awaited. “Erm, one more thing…” he heard behind him as he was opening the office door.

He looked back gingerly as an almost menacing grimace met his gaze. “I wouldn’t make any plans in the near future if I was you.” Barely listening at this point, a shadow of the man formerly known as Dwayne Shoeman made its way quietly out of the office into the long school corridor. 

It was already halfway through lunchtime and the place was littered with talkative, loud mouthed students causing an almighty din. However, as one student to the next caught sight of Dwayne, the racket subsidised to nothing more than hushed whispers and murmurings. The walk of shame seemed to last for hours. News of the day’s events had spread like wildfire and everybody in that corridor made him fully aware of that fact. The deafening silence was burning into his soul. He took care not to look up at any of the inquisitive, young faces staring in his direction. Reaching the main door, a high pitched voice called out his name.

“Mr. Shoeman.”

He paused and looked up. Standing directly to his left was one of the pupils of his class, the same one that had comforted Gina whilst she lay bleeding on the floor. Her face was filled with pure venom as she snarled at him. “You dirty old bastard.”

Not a sound was heard behind him as he unflinchingly continued on, making his way down the steps of Scottsdale High and towards his car. His career in tatters, his finances a mess, he was unable to produce neither speech nor thought. He opened the door and slid inside. Dwayne sat there, motionless for several minutes, glazed over and confused. He bathed in the pit of self-pity and humility as time stood still.

In the blink of an eye, he found himself hugging the steering wheel of his Honda Civic, sobbing into his folded arms. Life’s planned events of self-destruction for Mr. Dwayne Showman had finally drawn to a close.

(To be continued...)

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Hope you enjoyed this short story, please look out for more on the way... (author: @ezzy) 

Slow Burn - Part 1 (My Original Short Stories)