Kent Haruf - Plainsong

By now it was after midnight. It was cold and bleak outside the shed and utterly quiet. Overhead, the stars in the unclouded sky looked as cold and arctic as ice.

They came back into the house without yet removing their canvas coveralls and sat spent and bloody at the wood table in the kitchen.

You think she’s going to be all right? Raymond said.

She’s young. She’s strong and healthy. But you don’t ever know what might could happen. You can’t tell.

No. You can’t tell. You don’t know how she is. You don’t even know where he might of took her for sure.

He might of landed her in Pueblo or Walsenburg. Or some other place besides Denver. You can’t never tell.

I’m going to hope she’s all right, Raymond said.

I hope it, said Harold.

They went upstairs. They lay down in bed in the dark and could not sleep but lay awake across the hall from each other, thinking about her, and felt how the house was changed now, how it seemed all of a sudden so lonesome and empty.

Lloyd Crowder called him early in the evening. You better come down here. It looks like they’re going to try to blindside you. You better bring your grade book and any papers you have.

Who is? Guthrie said.

The Beckmans.

He went out of the house and got in his pickup and drove across town to the district office next to the high school and when he went in he saw them immediately. They were sitting in the third row of the public chairs off to the far side. Beckman, his wife, and the boy. They turned and looked at him when he entered. He took a seat at the back. The school board members were ranged about the table at the front of the room, each with his name tag facing the public. There were framed pictures of outstanding seniors from the years past on the walls behind them. They had already gotten beyond the minutes of the previous meeting and the approval of the bills and the various items of communication and were now finishing discussion of the budget. The superintendent was taking them through each step. They voted on matters, if that was called for by regulation, and it was going smoothly, all cut and dried since they’d prepared for it earlier in executive session. Then the board chairman called for public concerns.

A thin woman stood up and began to complain about the school buses. I’d like to put a plea out there, she said. My kids used to get on at seven and off at four, now it’s six-thirty and four forty-five. The bus driver gets disgusted and starts driving slow, that’s what it is. What happens is those kids, all their cussing and getting out of their seats. Well, all their language is cussing. If we took that away from them they wouldn’t have a thing to say.

The board chairman said, Safety is the big concern. Isn’t that right. That’s what we have to think about.

I’ll tell you, the woman said, one time the bus finally had to pull over. The driver had to stop and she come back in the row and said to this girl, You been yelling at the top of your lungs all morning, now go ahead and yell. And the girl did too. Can you believe that? Well, my daughter didn’t appreciate her yelling at the top of her lungs. I don’t think she should have to put up with that.

Riding the bus is a privilege, the board chairman said, till they violate the rules. Isn’t that right? He looked at the superintendent.

Yes, the superintendent said. After three misbehaviors they’re off.

Then somebody better learn how to count to three, the woman said.

Yes ma’am, the chairman said. You need to come in and talk to the principal about this. About your concern here.

I already did that.

Did you, he said. Maybe you can talk to him again. I appreciate you coming here tonight. He looked around the room. Anything else? he said.

Mrs. Beckman rose up and said, Yes, there’s something else. And I can see somebody called him to be here already. She looked at Guthrie. I don’t care if he is here, I’m going to say it. He hates my boy. He flunked him this past semester. Failed him out of American history. You know that can’t be right.

Ma’am, what are you talking about? the chairman said. What is this?

I’m telling you. First he fights him in the hall over that little slut. Then he keeps him out of the basketball tournament which might cost him his scholarship to Phillips Junior College, and then he flunks him for the whole semester, that’s what I’m talking about. I want to hear what you’re going to do about it.

The board chairman looked at the superintendent. The superintendent looked at Lloyd Crowder who was sitting off to the side at another table. The board chairman turned to the principal now. Can you give us some background on this, Lloyd?

He don’t need to, Mrs. Beckman said. I just told you.

Yes ma’am, said the chairman. But we’d like to hear from the principal too.

Crowder stood up and explained in some detail what each party in the dispute had done, and remarked on the five-day suspension the boy had been given.

Is Mr. Guthrie here? the chairman said.

That’s him sitting back there, Mrs. Beckman said.

I see him now, the chairman said. Mr. Guthrie, would you care to say anything?

You’ve already heard it, Guthrie said. Russell hasn’t done the work required of him. I told him that several times. That he needed to improve or he wouldn’t pass the course. He didn’t, so I gave him a failing grade.

You hear him? Mrs. Beckman said. That’s exactly the lie he keeps telling everybody. Are you going to sit there and have him lie to you like that too?

I have the grade book if you think you have to see it, Guthrie said. But I’d prefer not to show it in public. I’m not even sure it’s legal to do that.

Let him show it, Mrs. Beckman cried. I hope he does. Then everybody can just see what he’s been doing to Russell here. He makes it all up anyhow.

The board chairman looked at her for a moment. Now ma’am, he said. I’ll tell you something. We don’t like to interfere too much with what a teacher does in his own classroom.

Well you better interfere. Guthrie there, is a liar and a son of a bitch.

Ma’am, you can’t talk that way in here. You better bring this up with the superintendent if you have a complaint to make, and we’ll talk about it in executive session. We can’t decide all this in public this a-way.

I see now, she said. You’re just like the rest. We voted you in and you turn out like this.

Ma’am, that’s my word on it. For now.

Can he graduate then?

Not without American history. I don’t believe so.

Can he at least cross the stage and pick up a blank diploma?

Maybe. But I expect he’ll have to take the class in the summer for what he failed. For the time being, he better take the rest of American history with somebody else individual. Isn’t that right, superintendent?

Yes. That can be arranged.

That’s right, the chairman said. That can be arranged. He looked out at them. Mr. Beckman, you haven’t said anything. You got something to add to this?

You goddamn right I do, Beckman said. He stood up. We aren’t done with this. I’ll tell you that right now. You can be goddamn sure of that much. I’ll go to the law if I have to. Do you think I won’t?

For a while in Denver she took a job. It wasn’t much of a job, only working part-time at a gas station convenience store on Wadsworth Boulevard a mile from the apartment, working at night for others when they called in. She had gone in for the interview and the little man with his white shirt, the manager, had walked her through the store and said, Where would you stock the Vienna sausage and the sardines? and she had said, The shelves with the canned foods, and he said, No, next to the crackers. You want them to buy both of them at the same time. There’s a reason for what we do here.