Susan Butaud

Confession

            Addie walked slowly up the center aisle of the church where she’d spent most of her life. This was the building were she was baptized, made her first confession and communion, confirmed, married and mourned her husband’s death. It was home. She genuflected when she reached the alter and headed for the confessional. This was something she felt compelled to do. She had to purge her soul of the sin she’d committed. Pushing aside the red velvet curtain, she entered the small booth and knelt on the squeaky kneeler.

            The noise alerted the priest that there was someone there. The silhouetted window opened and Father Michael began, “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

            “Amen.” Addie’s heart was pounding. In a Irish accent she said, “Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been one month since my last confession.” She paused and inhaled deeply as she thought of what she was about to say. “I’m responsible for the death of Ann Mueller.”

            There was silence on the other side of the thin, white curtain.

            “Father Michael? Are you still there?”

            He cleared his throat. “How … how are you … responsible?”

            Addie bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t physically kill her. I just… Well, I prayed for it – everyday – for three years.” She could see the priest’s shadow sit back.

            “Why would you do that Addie?

            “Damn,” she dropped the accent, “I should have known. How’d you know it was me?”

            He chuckled. “I saw you come in. But seriously, why would you pray for the death of a Catholic school principal?”

            “Well…” Addie thought back to the day she’d first met Ann Mueller. 

Ann Mueller arrived in town four years earlier. She was hired as the new principal of St. John’s Catholic school when the old one, Mr. Conrad, retired. The only two things anyone really knew about Ann Mueller was that she was the only one who applied for the job and that she was qualified. The day she was introduced to the faculty, she appeared grandmotherly. She had extremely short, white hair, a large round body and she waddled severely when she walked. It could be said that her demeanor was sweet … sickeningly sweet.

“I can’t tell you how much joy I feel standing here today. I can’t wait to get to know each and everyone of you,” she said.

Addie glanced towards her friend Lynn, who was completely enraptured in everything that the elderly woman was saying. Scanning the room, everyone else seemed to be just as captivated. Addie looked back at Ann Mueller. There was something about this woman that rubbed Addie the wrong way. No one is this nice. She thought.

“Of course there will be a few changes, but nothing major.”

Addie looked down and rolled her eyes. Yeah right! This school had been a part of her family for three generations – her parents had attended St. John’s, as did she, and her daughter was currently a first grader there. She’d seen the St. John’s go from one of the top schools in the state with three-hundred students, to a school that had been struggling to keep its doors open with barely a hundred students. She honestly felt that this woman would be the downfall of St. John’s.

“I won’t keep you any longer. I know that you’re anxious to get back to your classrooms and finish preparing them for the blessed angels who will be crossing those thresholds I just a few days.”

Standing up, Addie pushed her chair in and headed out the door and down the stairs. Upon entering her classroom, she noticed something: her classroom was a mess … messier than usual … worse than when she had gone to the meeting. It appeared that someone had begun to rearrange her furniture and then decided against it.  There were also a few things missing, like her computer and the table that sat next to her desk. Other personal items were missing as well, like her software, her electric pencil sharpener and the mini-refrigerator where she stored juice for the After School Program. With a sigh, she stood and went to the office to report the thefts.

When she entered the office, she was halted by the sight of all of her missing items, which were set up in the receptionist area. “Why is my stuff in here?” Addie inquired.

The aging woman waddled towards her and said, “I thought the office would get better use of it.”

“But it’s mine!” Addie told her.

“It’s school property. It belongs…”

“No ma’am. I bought all of this. The school couldn’t afford to purchase what was needed to teach my classes, so I paid for them. Those things belong to me.”

Ann Mueller’s face seemed to distort. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t donate it to the school!”

Addie’s temper began to get the best of her. “I’m the computer teacher and the After School Program coordinator. Everything that you took from my classroom enables me to teach my classes. ”

“Well, I think we can get better use of these things here, but if you insist on taking them back…”
Without hesitation, Addie began to collect what was hers.

Ann Mueller frowned but said nothing more.

            The thing about Ann Mueller was that if she didn’t like you, she made it her personal mission to make your life miserable. It started with the P.E. teacher, Belinda Roberts. Ann Mueller blamed her for the fact that her granddaughter, Kathryn, who was a student at the school, was thirty-five pounds overweight. It didn’t matter that the teacher’s program went above and beyond the state’s requirements, it didn’t matter that the child’s diet was atrocious. It was Belinda’s fault.

            The art teacher, Beatrice Walker was Ann Mueller’s next victim. St. John’s had always had an award winning art program, but Ann Mueller insisted that the children focus on making invitations for fundraisers to send to wealthy parishioners. When Bea tried to explain that the Diocesan Art Contest was coming up and the students needed to work on those projects, she was dismissed. It wasn’t until Ann Mueller found out that the school also received cash awards if their students won, that she relented.  However, Bea was now on her list.

            Addie, of course, was on the list as well. It didn’t become apparent until one day in October when she walked into the office during her conference period. Representatives from the uniform company the Diocese used were there with samples of different styles and colors of

Jumpers. A third grader came through the door wearing a blue sailor’s dress.

            “Oh, now I like that,” Ann Mueller gushed. “Oh Addie, isn’t it adorable?”

            Addie looked at the girl. The dress hung on her lifelessly. “It’s … cute,” she responded. “But don’t you think it kind of … a novelty?”

            Ann Mueller’s face twisted.  “What do you mean by novelty?”

            “I mean they’re cute, but after a while, the cuteness is going to wear off and the girls are going to hate them. I know this might sound stupid, but Catholic school parents like plaid.  It’s what distinguishes our kids from other private schools in town.”

            “Well … well…,” Ann Mueller blustered. “Your opinion doesn’t matter. I’m presenting them to the school board for approval.”

            Addie shook her head and left the office without another word.

            The school board rejected Ann Mueller’s suggestion.

            The year progressively got worse. The Art and P.E. programs were stripped to a bare minimum functioning capacity. The art supplies dwindled quickly … too quickly for a small elementary school. Beatrice often had to buy and bring her own supplies, which she needed to teach the subject she was passionate about.  The equipment Belinda needed for P.E. would either be missing or damaged beyond use. All of the balls mysteriously went flat at the same time; the strings of the volleyball nets were shredded overnight. It was heartbreaking when, the night before the charity jump rope competition she had so carefully planned was jeopardized when the ropes mysteriously disappeared.

            “How are we supposed to raise funds to replace equipment when the equipment we are supposed to use is missing?” Belinda demanded.

            Ann Mueller simply shrugged. “Well, since there are no funds to replace the ropes, I suggest you cancel the event.”

            “I can’t cancel the event … it’s tonight!”

            Once again, Ann Mueller shrugged. “Then I guess you’ll just have to explain to everyone that you didn’t adequately secure the equipment and your mistake allowed them to be taken.”

            Poor Belinda was almost in tears at this point.  “I am certain I locked the cabinet.”
            “Well, obviously you’re mistaken.”

            It was at that moment that Addie burst into the gym, carrying over a hundred jump ropes.  “Belinda, tell me how much you love me!”

            Belinda was visibly overjoyed.  “How … where…?”

            As Addie dropped the jump ropes on the floor, she said, “I was in Father Michael’s office when you called his secretary to see if anyone had rented the gym last night.”

            “What were you doing in Father Michael’s office?” Ann Mueller interrupted.

            “It’s a personal matter,” Addie replied as she turned back to Belinda and continued. “Anyway, I called my sister, who works for the public school district, and I asked her if there was any way we could borrow some of their ropes for tonight. She just dropped them off.”

            Belinda hugged Addie and said, “I cannot thank you enough. You always help anyone who needs you – even if they don’t know they need you.”

            Addie smiled, “It’s what friends do.”

            Ann Mueller sneered.

            When the teachers came back from Christmas break, what they found left them shocked and in a foul mood. All of the schedules had been changed, and because of the shift, Addie no longer had a conference period.  Needless to say, she was infuriated.

            Addie marched down to Ann Mueller’s private office and walked in without knocking. 

She threw the schedule on the desk in front of the principal, and put her hands on her hips, and through clenched teeth demanded, “Where’s my conference period?”

            “Since parents never come in to see you, it was decided that you don’t need one.”  Ann Mueller said as she peered over the newspaper she was reading.

            “I get here at six o’clock in the morning to open the school for the early drop-offs. I watch the children in the cafeteria during lunch period so the other teachers can eat in peace. On top of all that, I’m usually here until six o’clock at night or later, depending on the time the last child is picked up.  My conference period is the only time I get a break. That is when I get to eat my lunch.”

            Ann Mueller’s face remained expressionless as she replied, “Not anymore.” 

            Addie was seething. “What the hell did I do to you to deserve this treatment?”

            “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said as she popped the newspaper, “I’m busy.”

            A week later, Addie’s fate was sealed. The Diocesan School Superintendent and School Board paid a surprise visit, something they periodically did to ensure that schools were being run by Catholic school guidelines. St. John’s wasn’t.

            When Addie greeted the visitors who arrived at 6:15 that morning, she was told not to call Ann Mueller; they wanted it to be as normal a day as possible.

            “You’ve been here for three years, haven’t you?” Dr. Glassman, the superintendent, asked.

            Addie was shocked that he remembered her.  “Yes sir, I have. How do you remember that?”

            He smiled as he said, “I’ve heard some good things about you. I got a phone call from a couple of years ago from one of the parents, a Mrs. Sanchez. She said that her daughter was having some problems and you helped her out.  She was really grateful.”

            Addie couldn’t help but blush. “Wow. That’s a little embarrassing.”

            “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said as he put his hand on her shoulder. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you help her?”

            “Had it been a serious problem, I would have gone through the proper channels, I assure you. She was just going through something that all sixth graders go through. I didn’t tell her what she should do … I didn’t give her advice; I just listened to her. She’d ask me a question and I’d answer her. Sometimes kids just need an adult to listen to what they have to say. It’s what I did; as a matter of fact, it’s what I still do.”

            Dr. Glassman smiled and said, “You’re an exceptional teacher and Mrs. Mueller is very lucky to have you on her faculty.”

            Addie smiled, but didn’t answer.

            One member of the board asked, “Are you here every morning or do teachers rotate coming in early?”

            “I get here every morning at six to open the school and the students start arriving at 6:30,” Addie replied.

            “Is that your only job here?” another board member asked.

            Dr. Glassman answered for her, “She also teaches the computer classes and runs the After School Program.”

            “That’s quite a full day,” Sister Stephen Christopher, the only nun on the board, said.

            Addie nodded, “Yes, it is, but it does have its advantages.  My daughter, Sydnie,” she pointed to a little girl with long blond hair who was coloring”, is a first grader here. I get to see her pretty much all day. That makes it all worth while for me.”

            “Do you have a copy of your daily schedule?” Dr. Glassman asked.

            Addie grabbed the paper that was held up by a magnet on her file cabinet and handed it to him.

            As he looked over it, he grimaced and said, “The only break in your day is at lunch?”

            “No sir”, Addie said, “I do cafeteria duty so that the other teachers can eat while their students eat. I used to eat during my conference period, but Mrs. Mueller said that I don’t need a conference period.”

            “Does she now?”

            Ann Mueller showed up at 7:20, as she did every morning, and like usual, she grabbed her mail from her box and walked back to her office.  This particular morning, Dr. Glassman was sitting at her desk in her chair waiting for her. She immediately pulled her grandmotherly charm out and said, “Why Dr. Glassman, what an unexpected surprise. I’m so glad to see you!”

            Dr. Glassman folded his hands in front of him, looked directly at Ann Mueller and said in a very low, eerie voice, “We need to talk.”

            Instead of things getting better, Addie’s situation worsened. Ann Mueller proved to be a very vindictive woman. While Addie was given her conference period back, little by little, the principal took away some of the responsibilities that made Addie’s job enjoyable.  Addie was no longer allowed to do cafeteria duty; she was no longer allowed to work with her daughter’s class. The students were no longer allowed to talk to her about their feelings or their problems. And perhaps worst of all, Addie found out that Ann Mueller’s granddaughter, Kathryn, was bullying her daughter; and nothing was being done to stop it. The teachers were afraid that if they intervened, they would lose their jobs.

            Normally, Addie was not one to complain, but the situation was completely out of hand.  She spoke to a friend of her father’s who was on the parish school board; but like everyone else, Ann Mueller had him snowed. She tried to call Dr. Glassman, but he had taken a leave of absence because his wife was ill. Her only solace was the Art teacher and the P.E. teacher.

            That April, the proverbial axe fell: Beatrice was the first one fired. The next was Belinda. Addie thought that her job was safe…until five o’clock on April 30^th, that is.  It was then that Ann Mueller came into her room as the children were watching a movie and said, “Addie, I need to see you for a few minutes.”          

            Addie looked at her aide, shook her head, and then followed the woman she’d grown to despise.

            Sitting behind her desk, Ann Mueller offered Addie a seat as she began, “We’ve gone over the budget for next year and it has been decided to cut the computer classes and the after school program.  I’m sorry, Addie, but your jobs are being eliminated.”

            While Addie had known in her heart it was coming, for some reason it was still a shock. In a quiet and deliberate manner, Addie said, “You know, Mrs. Mueller, one day all of this bad karma your building up is going to bite you in the ass.” She stood up and walked back to her classroom. She had a month of school left and she was determined that her kids were not going to suffer because of that evil, horrible woman.

            That night, Addie began her prayer vigil for the demise of Ann Mueller.

            Father Michael couldn’t believe his ears. “Why didn’t you ever come to me this information?”

            “I don’t know. All of us who were fired were told, not only by Ann Mueller, but by the school board as well, that you backed their decision.”

            “I did … but only because of the information I was given at the time.” He swallowed. “When I found out that she just didn’t like you … that she was jealous of you … I hired you as Youth Director.  You’re good at your job.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Look what you’ve accomplished! You’re a single mother; you’ve become one of the top youth directors in the diocese … and you’ve earned your Masters.  If she hadn’t been deceitful…”

            Addie interrupted him, “Don’t you dare justify her actions with my successes. She was a terrible, vindictive, bitch!” She sighed as she went on, “I know it’s a sin … but … I’m glad she’s dead. I’m sorry that I wished it, but I’m not unhappy it happened.”

            Father Michael nodded, “Well, you are sorry, so I’ll absolve you for your sin. As your penance … say three Hail Mary’s. Now let me hear the Act of Contrition.”

            When she finished, Addie felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her chest. She stood to leave and begin her Penance when the priest stopped her.

            “If you want the job, I’ll give you a glowing recommendation.”

            Addie shook her head; she couldn’t have heard him right.  “Excuse me?”

            “The school needs you. Those kids need you. All you have to do is complete the application. I will personally take it to the Diocesan School Board.  What do ya say?”

            Tears sprang to her eyes. “Thank you, Father.”

            “You deserve it. Besides, I owe you. ” He paused, and a huge grin appeared on his face as he said, “Ann Mueller was a manipulative … bitch.”

            Addie laughed as she left the confessional.  She knelt on a kneeler in the back of the church, said the Hail Mary three times and left.

            Once she was gone, Father Michael exited his confessional and entered the one on the other side of the church. 

The silhouetted window opened and Father A.J. began. “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen. Bless me Father, for I have sinned.  It has been four hours since my last confession.”  Father Michael swallowed as he continued, “I’m glad Ann Mueller is dead.”

Revision Account

            When we got this assignment, I struggled with what I wanted to write about.  I knew that I should write about a subject that I was familiar with so I decided to sit at my computer and just let it flow. At first I was going to write a tragedy:

Late Night Phone Call

            My sister, Paige, had always been close even though there is a seventeen year gap between us.  I never minded my little sister tagging along with me and my friends to the movies or the beach or just hanging out at the mall.  Our mother never had to worry about either of us.  I would be on my best behavior when Paige was around and Paige would be well taken care of and spoiled rotten when she was with me.  Being the youngest, Paige got away with a lot more than our older brother and sister did growing up.  I often complained loudly to our parents about that fact but they’d just laugh it off or tell me that I was jealous that I was no longer the baby of the family.  I guess in a way that was true, but she was cute and adorable and I adored her.  Unfortunately, times change and little girls grow up.

            When she entered elementary school, my baby sister was a firecracker.  Her teachers loved her.  She did her work, played well with the other children and was always the first one to volunteer my mom to bring whatever they needed for class the next day.

(It was so awful that this was as far as I got.)

            My next idea came to me when I was sitting in a little diner in Baytown and a man paid for a homeless man’s lunch:

An Act of Kindness

            The old man sat at the counter eating his bowl of chili and crackers.

(The end. I couldn’t get past this point.)

            Write what I know. I know about the loss of a husband and being a single parent. I was going to write about that. Then Amanda presented her story about her friend’s death.  It made me cry. I didn’t want to make people cry. So I had to wrack my brain again. That’s when it hit me. I taught in a Catholic school for three years. The first two were wonderful, the last, not so much. So I set out to write about that.

            Once I finished my very first draft, I decided to let the people who knew the true story read it, my family. After my parents read it, they did what all parents do, they told me how wonderful it was and not to change a thing.  No help there, but I needed the confidence boost. Then I let my daughter read it. After all, she was at the school and saw the events unfold. Her response was a bit more critical. She said it was good, but she wanted her name in it. After making that all important correction, it was time for the real critics.

            First I sent it to Valerie Gordon. She really helped me with punctuation and a few word changes. Val questioned the line where Father Michael calls Ann Mueller “a manipulative bitch”. She wasn’t sure that a priest would speak that way, but I assured her that they do. Although the names have been changed to protect the not so innocent, it is an actual quote from a priest. Overall, Val enjoyed my story. I also sent it to my friend, Mary Anne Kane. She has a real flair when it comes to writing and has always helped me get to where I need to be with my essays. Mary Anne helped me come up with a few phases and sentences that were more colorful. When I reread my story, her edits really helped it flow a little bit easier.

            In the past, I have always had a problem with people reading my works, especially editing them. I felt that if they changed too much, it would no longer be my work but theirs. Going through the workshops has helped immensely. When someone else reads your work and gives you suggestions of how to improve it, it is still your work. Although Val and Mary Anne helped me, “Confession” is still mine.

            I am very pleased with the end result. I have never had a story that I have written mean so much to me. Writing this story was a wonderful catharsis for me. It helped me get past resentment I have held on to for four years. No amount of therapy could do what this story has done for me. What’s next for Confession? I don’t know. I could publish it, but I think I’ll keep this one to myself.

Confession (Original Draft)

            Addie walked slowly up the center aisle of the church where she’d spent most of her life. This was the building that she was baptized in, made her first confession and communion in, confirmed in, married in and mourned her husband’s death in. It was home. She genuflected when she reached the alter and headed for the confessional. This was something she felt compelled to do. She had to purge her soul of the sin she’d committed. Pushing aside the red velvet curtain, she entered the small booth and knelt on the squeaky kneeler.

            The noise alerted the priest that there was someone there. The silhouetted window opened and Father Michael began, “In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.”

            Addie’s heart was pounding. In a British accent she began, “Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been one month since my last confession.” She paused and inhaled deeply as she thought of what she was about to say. “I’m responsible for the death of Ann Mueller.”

            There was silence on the other side of the curtain.

            “Father Michael? Are you still there?”

            He cleared his throat. “How … how are you … responsible?”

            Addie bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t physically kill her. I just… Well, I prayed for it – everyday – for three years.” She could see the priest’s shadow sit back.

            “Why would you do that Addie?

            “Damn. I should have known. How’d you know it was me?”

            He chuckled. “I saw you come in. But seriously, why would you pray for the death of a Catholic school principal?”

            “Well…” Addie thought back to the day she first met Ann Mueller. 

Ann Mueller arrived in town four years earlier. She was hired as the new principal of St. John’s Catholic school when the old one retired. No one really knew anything about her except that she was the only one who applied for the job and she was qualified. The day she was introduced to the faculty, she appeared grandmotherly. She had extremely short, white hair, a large round body and she severely waddled when she walked. Her demeanor was sickeningly sweet.

“I can’t tell you how much joy I feel standing here today and I can’t wait to get to know each and everyone of you,” she said.

Addie glanced towards her friend Lynn who was completely enraptured in everything that the elderly woman was saying. Scanning the room, everyone else seemed to be just as captivated. She looked back at Ann Mueller. There was something about her that rubbed Addie the wrong way. No one is this nice. She thought.

“Of course there will be a few changes, but nothing major.”

Addie looked down and rolled her eyes. Yeah right. This school had been a part of her family for three generations – her parents, herself and her daughter who was currently a kindergartener. She’d seen the school go from one of the top in the state with three-hundred students, to a school that had been struggling to keep its doors opened with barely a hundred. She honestly felt that this woman would be the downfall of St. John’s.

“I won’t keep you any longer. I know that you’re anxious to get back to your classrooms and finish getting them ready.”

Standing up, Addie pushed her chair in and headed out the door and down the stairs. Upon entering, she noticed something. Her classroom was a mess … messier than usual … messier than when shed gone to the meeting. It appeared that someone tried to rearrange her furniture and then decided against it.  Also, a few things were missing like her computer and table that sat next to her desk and other of her personal items like her software, electric pencil sharpener and mini-refrigerator where she stored juice for the After School Program. With a sigh, she stood and went to the office to report the thefts.

When she entered the office, all of her missing items were set up in the receptionist area. “Why is my stuff in here?” I inquired.

The aging woman waddled towards me.  “I thought the office would get better use of it.”

“But it’s mine!” Addie told her.

“It’s school property. It belongs…”

“No ma’am. I bought all of this. The school couldn’t afford to purchase what was needed to teach my classes and I paid for it. It belongs to me.”

Ann Mueller’s face seemed to distort. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t donate it to the school?”

Addie’s temper began to get the best of her. “I’m the computer teacher and the After School Program coordinator. Everything that you took from my classroom enables me to teach my classes. ”

“Well, I think we can get better use of it here, but if you insist on taking it back…”
Without hesitation, Addie began to collect what was hers. Ann Mueller frowned.

            The thing about Ann Mueller was that if she didn’t like you, she made it her personal mission to make your life miserable. It started with the P.E. teacher, Belinda Roberts. Ann Mueller blamed her for the fact that her granddaughter, Kathryn, who was a student at the school, was seventy-five pounds overweight. It didn’t matter that the teacher’s program went above and beyond the state’s requirements. It didn’t matter that the child’s diet was atrocious, it was Belinda’s fault.

            The art teacher, Beatrice Walker was Ann Mueller’s next victim. St. John had always had an award winning art program, but Ann Mueller insisted that the children focus on making invitations for a fundraiser send to wealthy parishioners. When Bea tried to explain that the Diocesan Art Contest was coming up and the students needed to work on those projects, she was dismissed. It wasn’t until Mueller found out that the school also received cash awards if their students won that she relented.  However, Bea was on her list.

            Addie of course was on the list as well. It didn’t become apparent until one day in October when she walked into the office during her conference period. Representatives from the uniform company the Diocese used were there with samples of different styles and colors of

Jumpers. A third grader came through the door in wearing a blue sailor’s dress.

            “Oh now I like that,” Ann Mueller gushed. “Oh Addie, isn’t it adorable?”

            Addie looked at the girl. The dress hung on her lifelessly. “It’s … cute,” she responded. “But don’t you think it kind of … novelty?”

            Ann Mueller’s face twisted.  “What do you mean by novelty?”

            “I mean they’re cute, but after a while, the cuteness is going to wear off and the girls are going to hate them. I know this might sound stupid, but Catholic school parents like plaid.  It’s what distinguishes our kids from other private schools in town.”

            “Well … well…” Ann Mueller blustered. “Your opinion doesn’t matter. I’m presenting them to the school board for approval.”

            Addie left the office without another word.

            The year progressively got worse. The art and P.E. programs were stripped to the bare functioning minimum. The art supplies dwindled quickly, too quickly for a small elementary school. Beatrice often had to bring her own supplies, but she continued to teach what she loved.  For Belinda equipment would go missing or be damaged. All of the balls mysteriously went flat at the same time, the stings of volleyball net shredded overnight, and the night before the charity jump rope competition she’d planned, the ropes disappeared.

            “How are we supposed to raise funds to replace equipment when the equipment were supposed to use is missing?” Belinda demanded.

            Ann Mueller simply shrugged. “Well, since there are no funds to replace the ropes, I suggest that you cancel the event.”

            “I can’t cancel. It’s tonight!”

            Once again, Ann Mueller shrugged. “Than I guess you’ll just have to explain to everyone that you didn’t secure the equipment and allowed them to be taken.”

            Poor Belinda was almost in tears at this point.  “I locked the cabinet.”
            “Well obviously you’re mistaken.”

            That’s when Addie burst into the gym carrying over a hundred jump ropes.  “Belinda, tell me how much you love me.”

            Belinda was visibly overjoyed.  “How … where…”

            Addie dropped the jump ropes on the floor. “I was in Father Michael’s office when you called his secretary to see if anyone had rented the gym last night.”

            “What were you doing in Father Michael’s office?” Ann Mueller interrupted.

            “It’s personal,” Addie replied and then turned back to Belinda. “Anyway, I called my sister. She works for the public school district and she asked if we could borrow their ropes. She just dropped them off.”

            Belinda hugged Addie. “I cannot thank you enough. You always help anyone who needs you – even if they don’t know they need you.”

            Addie blushed. “It’s what friends do.”

            Ann Mueller sneered.

            When the teachers came back from Christmas break, they were shocked at what they found. All of the schedules had been changed.  Because of the shift, Addie no longer had a conference period.  She was pissed.

            Addie marched down to Ann Mueller’s private office and walked in without knocking. 

She threw the schedule on the desk in front of her and put her hands on her hips.  “Where’s my conference period?”

            “Parents never come in to see you.  You don’t need one.”  Ann Mueller said as she peered over the newspaper she was reading.

            “I get here at six o’clock in the morning to open the school for the early drop-offs, watch the children in the cafeteria during lunch so the other teachers can eat in peace and I’m here until six o’clock at night or later depending on the time the last child is picked up.  My conference period is the only time I get a break. It’s when I get to eat my lunch.”

            Ann Mueller’s face remained expressionless. “I don’t think so.” 

            Addie was seething. “What the hell did I do to you to deserve this treatment?”

            “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she popped the newspaper, “I’m busy.”

            A week later, Addie’s fate was sealed. The Diocesan School Superintendent and School Board paid a surprise visit. They periodically did that to ensure that schools were being run by Catholic school guidelines. St. John’s wasn’t.

            Addie greeted the visitors when they arrived at 6:15 that morning. She was told not to call Ann Mueller. They wanted it to be as normal a day as possible.

            “You’ve been here for three years, haven’t you?” Dr. Glassman, the superintendent asked.

            Addie was shocked that he remembered her.  “Yes sir, I have. How do you remember that?”

            He smiled. “I’ve heard some good things about you. I got a phone call from a parent, a Mrs. Sanchez, a couple of years ago. She said that her daughter was having some problems and you helped her out.  She was really grateful.”

            She couldn’t help but blushed. “Wow. That’s a little embarrassing.”

            “Don’t be embarrassed.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you help her?”

            “Had it been a serious problem, I’d gone through the proper channels. But she was going through what all sixth graders go through. I didn’t tell what she should do. I didn’t give her advice. I just listened. She’d ask me a question and I’d answer her. Kids sometimes just need an adult to listen. It’s what I did. It’s what I still do.”

            Dr. Glassman smiled. “You’re exceptional. Mrs. Mueller is lucky to have you on her faculty.”

            Addie didn’t answer.

            “Are you here every morning or do teachers rotate?” One of the board members asked.

            “I get here every morning at six to open the school.  Students start arriving at 6:30.”

            “Is that your only job here?” Another board member asked.

            Dr, Glassman answered for her. “She also teaches the computer classes and runs the After School Program.”

            “That’s quite a full day.” Sister Stephen Christopher, the only nun on the board, said.

            Addie nodded. “Yes, it is, but it does have its advantages.  My daughter,” she pointed to a little girl with long blond hair who was coloring”, is a first grader here. I get to see her pretty much all day so that makes it all worth while.”

            “Do you have a copy of your daily schedule?” Dr. Glassman asked.

            Addie grabbed the paper that was held up by a magnet on her file cabinet and handed it to him.

            As he looked over it, he grimaced.  “The only break in your day is at lunch?”

            “No sir”, Addie said. “I do cafeteria duty so that the other teachers can eat. I used to eat during my conference period, but Mrs. Mueller said that I don’t need a conference period.”

            “Does she now?”

            Ann Mueller showed up at 7:20 as she did every morning.  Like usual, she grabbed her mail from her box and walked back to her office.  Dr, Glassman was sitting in her desk chair waiting for her.

            She immediately pulled her grandmotherly charm out. “Why Dr. Glassman, what an unexpected surprise. I’m so glad to see you.”

            Dr. Glassman folded his hand in front of him. “We need to talk.”

            Instead of things getting better, Addie’s situation became worse. Ann Mueller proved to be a vindictive woman. Little by little she took responsibilities from Addie. No longer was she allowed to do cafeteria duty. She was given her conference period back, but she was no longer allowed to work with her daughter’s class. She was no longer allowed to let the students talk to her about their feelings or their problems. The worst of all, Ann Mueller’s granddaughter Kathryn was bullying Addie’s daughter.

            Normally, Addie didn’t complain, but the situation was completely out of hand.  She spoke to a friend of her father’s who was on the parish school board, but like everyone else Ann Mueller had him snowed. She tried to call Dr. Glassman, but he had to take a leave of absence because his wife was ill. Her only solace was the Art teacher and the P.E. teacher.

            That April, the axe fell. Beatrice was the first one fired. The next was Belinda. Addie thought that she was in the clear until five o’clock April 30^th.

            Ann Mueller came into her room as the children were watching a movie. “Addie, I need to see you for a few minutes.”

            Addie looked at her aide and shook her head.  She followed the woman she’d grown to despise.

            Sitting behind her desk, Ann Mueller offered Addie a seat. “We’ve gone over the budget for next year and it has been decided to cut the computer classes and the after school program.  I’m so sorry, but your jobs are being eliminated.”

            Addie knew in her heart it was coming, but for some reason it was still a shock. “You know, one day all this bad karma your building up is going to bite you in the ass.” She stood up and walked back to her classroom. She had a month of school left and her kids weren’t going to suffer because of that bitch.

            That night, Addie began her prayer vigil for the demise of Ann Mueller.

            Father Michael couldn’t believe his ears. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

            “I don’t know. All of us who were fired were told not only by Ann Mueller, but by the school board as well that you backed the decision.”

            “I did.  But only because of the information I was given.” He swallowed. “When I found out that she just didn’t like you … that she was jealous of you … I hired you as Youth Director.  You’re good at your job.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Look what you’ve accomplished. You’re a single mother; you’ve become one of the top youth directors in the diocese and you earned your Masters.  If she wouldn’t have been deceitful…”

            Addie interrupted him. “Don’t justify her actions with my successes. She was a terrible, vindictive, bitch.” She sighed. “I know it’s a sin … but … I’m glad she’s dead. I’m sorry that I wished it upon her, but I’m not unhappy about it.”

            Father Michael nodded. “Well, you’re sorry so I’ll absolve you for this. As your penance, say three Hail Mary’s. Now let me hear the Act of Contrition.”

            When she finished, Addie felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her chest. She stood to leave and begin her Penance when the priest stopped her.

            “If you want the job, I’ll give you a glowing recommendation.”

            Addie shook her head.  She couldn’t have heard him right.  “Excuse me?”

            “The school needs you. Those kids need you. All you have to do is complete the application. I will personally take it to the Diocesan School Board.  What do ya say?”

            Tears sprang to her eyes. “Thank you, Father.”

            “You deserve it. Besides, I owe you.  Ann Mueller was a manipulative bitch.”

            Addie laughed as she left the confessional.  She knelt on a kneeler in the back of the church, said the Hail Mary three times and left.

            Once she was gone, Father Michael exited his confessional and entered the one on the other side of the church. 

The silhouetted window opened and Father A.J. began. “In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.”

“Bless me Father for I have sinned.  It has been four hours since my last confession.”  Father Michael swallowed.  “I’m glad Ann Mueller is dead.”