Which, in Chris's case, was probably better than knowing where he'd come from. They were less afraid of him this way.
Seven
There was a little time remaining before the children were going to be waking, which was going to have to be enough time for Marie to get all of this dealt with, regardless of the fact that there was simply no way that she was going to actually do it.
There wasn't much choice, was there? No choice at all; the alternative was to cancel classes in either case, and she wasn't going to let that happen. Not if she had any other choice.
There would be talk, she knew, but it didn't stop her lifting her skirts and running through the middle of town. If she hurried, then she'd be able to get something started, at least. They'd understand her need, right?
She stops a few steps short of the door and takes what little time that she can afford to get herself back together as she closes the last few steps at a walk. Heads are turning to see the wild woman running through town, but they'd understand, when they saw the school building.
The boy looked up at her. It was the same one that she'd talked to yesterday, thankfully, which meant that there wouldn't be much explanation needed.
"You have to help me," she said, hints of breathlessness touching her voice in spite of her.
"I told you. It's going to run us twenty dollars in materials alone."
She sets her jaw. "I have a hole in my roof big enough that a boulder might have fallen through. Almost a whole ton of debris landed all over my students' desks. I don't have time to get all that money together. I promise, you'll be paid, but I need you to come now, before they start arriving."
He takes in a breath, and shakes his head. "I can't do that, ma'am."
"No, you don't understand—"
"If you could just give us ten, fifteen dollars—"
The numbers ran through her head. She could almost pay it, if she didn't eat for a few days. They could just get started… at some point, would they reimburse her for that?
Her lips pursed together as the numbers failed to add up several times, and she tried to turn them and make them fit some other way.
If she saved—no, there's no saving. It needs to be today, and it needs to be right now.
"How much do you need? Ten or fifteen?"
His jaw shifts left and right, whether he tries to decide or to figure out how to deal with this woman who's being pushy while, she knew, offering nothing at all in terms of peaceful terms.
"Fifteen up front would be doing you a favor," he says. "Ten would be a big favor. I know you're a teacher, 'n all, but I don't know you that well."
She closed her eyes. She could have done eight. She could have pretended that ten could be done, almost. But fifteen was outside of the discussion. It wasn't that she couldn't afford it—it was that she didn't have fifteen dollars to her name, not in the bank here.
If she wired back home, sure. But wiring back home meant closing the school for the day. She couldn't do that. She just…
Marie let out a long breath. "Thank you, Mr Peters."
"Sorry I couldn't be more help," he offers, as if it might change something. The only thing it changes is that he sounds sympathetic when he says 'no.'
"No, I'm sorry," she offers, finally. "Good luck with your work here."
"No hard feelings, ma'am. You have money to pay for our services, you're always welcome here."
She's most of the way out the door before her mind registers that he's spoken. "Thank you," she says finally, before stepping out.
It's only been a few moments, and the same folks who had stopped to watch her early-morning sprint are still standing around, hoping to see some satisfactory ending to the story. Marie ignores them as best she can and keeps her head up and straight ahead as she walks down the middle of the street back towards the schoolhouse.
It's not exactly what she'd like, but the only answer that she's got left is the only answer she's got left, no matter what she wants it to be.
She'll have to close the school, and that was all she could do. It stung more than a little. If she had a choice, maybe that would have made a difference. But she couldn't let anyone get hurt, and if the roof was falling in, she couldn't guarantee anyone's safety. It was as simple as that.
She'd figure out what to do about the school building after she put up a sign that said they were closed. A deep breath in. A deep breath out. She stepped inside. The good news was, it hadn't gotten any worse in the ten minutes that she'd been out. She looked up uncertainly at the roof as she passed it by.