An Absence of Principal Read online

  An Absence of

  Principal

  Jimmy Patterson

  and

  Tom S. Morgan

  iUniverse, Inc.

  Bloomington

  An Absence of Principal

  Copyright © 2012 by Jimmy Patterson and Tom S. Morgan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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  Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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  ISBN: 978-1-4759-3946-0 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-1-4759-3947-7 (hc)

  ISBN: 978-1-4759-3948-4 (e)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2012912886

  iUniverse rev. date: 7/26/2012

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  EPILOGUE

  Acknowledgements

  Tom S. Morgan wishes to thank his wife, LaVerne, the “mover and shaker” of the Garrison Trask series, and proof-reader extraordinaire, Euda Lee Kemper.

  Jimmy Patterson wishes to thank his Uncle Bill Patterson, who taught Jimmy his love of the written word and showed him how moving writing could be. Uncle Bill died June 17, 2012. Jimmy also wishes to thank his Aunt Loretta, Euda Lee Kemper, his wife Karen, children Jennifer, Kelsey and James, and all their family friends at St. Ann’s Church in Midland, Texas.

  Prologue

  Beau Martin lifted his glass of sweet tea and, proposing a toast, congratulated the Man of the Hour.

  “To our recipient this year,” Martin said. “Your professionalism, caring for children, ability to work with others and love for family is an inspiration to us all. Your dedication to seeing that not just your school but all schools in Midland, Texas, are the best they can possibly be, we thank you and we honor you tonight.”

  Doggett found himself humbled and helpless as he took a drink. The heaping of praise continued. He didn’t know whether to blush or stick his chest out, but he was fairly convinced that he had successfully wrestled the title of the luckiest man on the face of the earth from the long-departed Lou Gehrig.

  “Without the dedication and devotion you have shown to your school, this night would not be possible,” Martin continued, “and so, on behalf of the teachers and administrators of the district, please accept this honor which you so richly deserve, Mr. Ben Doggett, Principal of Stephen F. Austin Elementary and Midland Schools’ Administrator of the Year.”

  Applause erupted in the ballroom for the man as widely admired as any in Midland, save for the sheriff of the county, himself a fan of Doggett.

  The respected principal walked humbly to the stage, waved to the crowd of friends, and offered Superintendent Martin his trademark soft, clammy handshake, maybe the only thing about Doggett that unsettled his peers.

  Doggett took his statuette, a small faux gold piece forged at a local sign company for $49.95 two weeks earlier. It bore an inscription that read, much to his disappointment, “In Doggett pursuit of academic excellence in our schools.”

  Doggett often softly chuckled when people used his last name as a pun instead of the correct ‘dogged pursuit.’ He had grown rather weary of the play on words over the years, but on this night, given the occasion and the room full of friends he was among as he was receiving such a great honor, he didn’t mind it at all, but still rolled his eyes to himself.

  Though complicated, Doggett was also a man of high character and morals. He was active in his community and, to a lesser degree, his church for as long as anyone could remember, and it was obvious he loved not only everyone around him, but was even more devoted to his wife and family, who loved him back just as much. He sat with anticipation, wondering who this year’s lucky recipient would be, and then it was his name called, and the utter surprise and shock shone through. His reaction was believable and his ‘Aw, shucks, who me?’ walk to the podium was sincere. No one would have ever guessed that Doggett had an arrogant self-centered bone in his body. Simply because he didn’t. His career was filled with examples of self-sacrifice, from bringing lunches to underprivileged students in the school to working late or for a teacher who had called in sick. Neither was it beyond him to attend a faculty meeting when a vice principal had to be suddenly called away. Simply put, Doggett would do anything for anybody. His character was unquestionably high, traits instilled in him by his Southern Baptist preacher father when Ben was a boy growing up in Tulsa. His father demanded the very best of his son and that he be courteous, kind and forgiving to everyone.

  Doggett had once passed up a job opening as principal of a local fine arts campus in Midland because he felt the other person applying for it had more appreciation of and understanding for the arts than he.

  “Mr. Doggett, I don’t know what to say,” the humbled job winner said after learning of the circumstances surrounding her being awarded the principal’s position at the nationally-honored Roy Orbison Magnet School.

  Doggett waved off her show of appreciation politely.

  “Don’t say anything, Melanie. You deserve the position. Anyone with a background on Broadway and in Midland Community Theater shouldn’t miss out on this kind of opportunity just because they’re a few hours short in the admin department. You are the kind of person who can lead young people into this form of artistic expression. Not me. I’m a numbers guy. You go in there and be the role model you are supposed to be for those kids.”

  The stepping down from his pursuit of the principal position was a favorite story of people in Midland education circles. Most people found the event to be typical of Doggett’s selfless personality.

  When he accepted his award from Superintendent Martin, his acceptance speech was trademark short. Don’t want to bore, he thought to himself. Just a quick thank you from the bottom of my heart
, and I’ll be moving right on. No need to wear out my welcome.

  “Thank you, friends. I am honored and humbled. And I am determined to be back here next year to pass this cherished memento on to someone more deserving than I,” he said, and everyone broke out into applause as he nodded and figuratively tipped his cap to the full room.

  Doggett’s knack for gentle, self-deprecating humor was exceeded only by his integrity and reputation in the community, in and out of his own elementary school and at central office where all the administrators knew everything about everyone.

  Doggett was nothing if not humble, and had been all of his life. His wife Angela and their twin 16-year-old children sat in the crowd, proud of the man who was their leader at home. Calmly wiping away a drop of a tear with the knuckle of her index finger, Angela quietly hoped her emotions had gone unnoticed. As humble as her husband was, she was private and seldom showed any emotion, either in public or at home. She hugged her Ben when he returned to the table. She said nothing, but noticed that he had forgotten to thank her and the kids on this evening, something he’d never forgotten before. He always put the three of them at the front and center of his universe and was quick to tell others of how nothing would be possible without his family.

  They gathered around Ben’s door like a subdued crowd at a Justin Beiber concert. One by one the principal’s coworkers and staff at Sam Houston Elementary filed in to give him his attaboy, high five, fist bump or the occasional, more traditional handshake or hug, followed by a “We’re proud of you!”

  Doggett took it all in with his trademark reserve and humility. He was the real deal. Anything he had he earned either through hard work, a strict upbringing or his unflappable character. He was at the pinnacle of his career and he understood his value to others.

  “Congratulations, boss man.” Tony Nail, a coworker, stuck his head in the room and flashed a thumbs up. “God bless you and the work you do.”

  Doggett, who was on the phone with the superintendent when Nail slipped in, lip-synced a thank you and returned a thumbs up, as well as a humble, gentle smile.

  “Thank you, Mr. Martin, that’s very kind of you,” Doggett said, sitting down at his desk. “An extra three days off with an all-expense paid cruise to the Caribbean is not necessary, but how could I turn down such a wonderful gesture from the district? Give my thanks to the school board, and please extend to them my sincere appreciation for the wonderful job they are doing as well.”

  Doggett hung up the phone as his personal assistant and secretary, Shanna Turner, peeked her head in the door.

  “Coffee, Mr. Doggett?” she asked.

  “Yes, thank you, Shanna,” he said.

  His phone rang again, something it had rarely stopped doing since the banquet the night before.

  “Good morning, honey,” Doggett said to Angela. “Quite a morning, yes. No, no. Always have time for you, sweetheart.”

  Shanna returned with his coffee and set it on his desk with a smile and a wink. She patted him gently on the shoulder and made her way back to her desk.

  “I love you, too, sweetheart. Let’s meet for lunch today. Wall Street? 11:30? Have to beat the lunch rush in this town, y’know?”

  Doggett hung up and leaned back in his chair. Life was good. His wife loved him. He was about to be a grandfather, he had a great relationship with his son, and he was well respected by his peers at work.

  Ding.

  A message popped up on his Macbook.

  “Hey there, Cowboy, how about a nice spin of the wheel?”

  Doggett looked at the image on his computer, a small arrow on-screen, inches away from the word “OK” in the box. He knew what OK meant.

  “Ah, what the heck,” he mumbled to himself. It’d been several days since his last hand. Besides, after last night, he had earned it.

  Doggett clicked OK and was taken immediately to a site called Bookemdano.com

  “Let the fun begin,” he thought to himself.

  CHAPTER 1

  Six weeks later

  MAY 24, 2003

  NAME: Ben41

  PASSWORD: AnteUp

  WAGER: $1,000.00

  Dealer: Hit or hold?

  Ben41: Hit me.

  Dealer: 5 of clubs. 16 showing. Hit or hold?

  Ben41: Hit me. Double or nothing.

  Dealer: 6 of Diamonds. Bust. Hand over.

  System Administrator: Please submit $1,000.00 before continuing to play Jack-A-Diamonds 21.

  Ben clicked cancel. He had already tried to escape the JackADiamonds site before tabbing out but his computer froze up, forcing him to log back in and pay his mounting debt before he could continue with another hand. In the last week he figured he had lost at least three thousand dollars at the JackADiamond site and Bookemdano.com. Ben re-logged in and returned to play some more. He paid up his losses and refigured just how much more he could lose before the family finances were a total shambles.

  The first bell of the morning rang and Sam Houston Elementary was filled within moments. The morning bell was Ben’s cue to step outside and greet the little tykes as they rumbled down the hallways, screaming and shouting and giving him a splitting headache to go with his morning chills and the cold sweats, the two most prominent symptoms that came with losing four figures in a single online casino roll of the virtual dice.

  “Hi, Mr. Doggett!” It was Margaret Camby, a precocious second grader offering her usual delightful greeting. Margaret had no idea that her cheery attitude was especially irritating to the principal this morning as she bounded off to her homeroom class.

  Timothy Turner, a nearly college-ready fourth grader, strolled past Doggett and shook his hand, just as he did every morning. “Good morning, Mr. Doggett, sir.”

  “Morning, Timothy. You get all your homework done last night?” the principal returned the conversation.

  “Yes, sir! Would you like to see it?”

  “No, no, I believe you,” Doggett said. “Just make sure you get it in to your teacher on time.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Doggett. Have a good day, sir,” the uber-brilliant young boy said.

  Doggett pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his brow, which was shiny with his self-made morning layer of perspiration by now. His heart was racing and it felt every bit like the Monday morning it was. The second bell bored through every inch of Doggett’s skull as his morning hallway principal’s smile was replaced with the look of dread that told the real story of his mood. Fortunately the last few students had slipped into their classrooms for the day and Doggett would no longer have to paste on the award-winning look of joy he could fake so well.

  “Teachers and students, good Monday morning. It’s a good day to be a Stephen F. Austin Patriot!” Doggett announced with his trademark glee, whether he actually possessed it or not. “We have an exciting week coming up, boys and girls, as we prepare for this year’s Field Day Competition and the end of school for another year. If you will all stand now for the Pledge of Allegiance and the Pledge to the Texas Flag …”

  After the morning’s patriotic duties were over, Doggett clicked off the microphone and fell back into his seat. His fondness for Internet gaming was as bad as any junkie or meth-head looking for his next high. He felt the rush overtake him every time he booted up and logged on.

  But the biggest problem was this: Ben’s unauthorized virtual recesses were slowly bankrupting his family, destroying his kids’ chances at college, and dashing any hopes his wife would have for going on their Alaskan cruise to celebrate the magical 25th anniversary they’d been working toward for so long. But it was all going to be OK. Because none of them knew about his little problem. Yet. And he was going to find a way to fix it all before it got too far out of hand.

  Ben Doggett, family man and education professional, hid his addiction well. It helped that it was his
responsibility to keep track of the family finances. That alone made it easier to gloss over any big deductions and blame them on bills or golf outings or overages on trips taken on behalf of the school system. The state had cut funding to so many programs there was really no telling how many times Doggett had to dip into his own pocket to pay for a DVD series, or a carton of construction paper or motivational coffee mugs for his staff of World’s Greatest Teachers. Some months, Ben knew, he could just blame the loss of so much of the family’s money on being an educator in today’s world. It may even work the first time.

  Doggett sat at his desk with his head buried in his hands. It was the closest he had come to tears since his expensive habit had taken hold of him several weeks earlier. The fleeting feelings of depression that overcame him so soon after the highs he experienced were not right, he knew that. He knew somehow he would have to find another way to fund, as he called it, his “hobby.”

  There was a knock at his office door. It opened quickly and in stepped Shanna, Doggett’s secretary, someone who in the last few weeks had become much closer. She cozied up to her boss, snuggled him and finally noticed he was shaking.

  “What’s wrong, Ben?” she said.

  “Problems at home. It’s nothing,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

  Doggett loved the feel of the young woman in his arms but often felt a pain inside knowing that he was so far into not only his online problem but to top it off, his illicit little affair. It was starting to dawn on him that there was nothing he could do to get out of either situation without a boatload of collateral damage somewhere.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just hate it when you’re not all smileys first thing on a Monday morning,” Shanna said.